A/N: Okay, here we go, second chapter of Wrong Way. I'm glad you all seem to be liking it! I was worried that it would be too perverted and/or fucked up and that everyone would hate it. Don't worry; this chappie is a lot cuter and funnier.
Dedication: Meg. Because you were sad when you missed out on the last dedication. But don't worry…I still love you! No one has replaced you! *huggles and smooches for Meg* Be HAPPY! ^.~
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from School of Rock, not the characters, music, plotline, etc. I do not own "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" or any part of it, especially not the quote I used. I do not own Freddy's shirt, because I got the logo from a shirt at Hot Topic. I do, however, own the drum logo on it which I used in place of the guitar logo which was there.
Claimer: I do own Mr. Peterson (who is tres cool), Freddy's still consistently cool outfits, and, once again, his t-bird.
IMPORTANT: Freddy and Zack are NOT DATING. They get teased as if they are, but they're not….it's just that: teasing. Never fear, though, they SHALL be together eventually! Just not now…but they're all flirty and stuff, so be content!
~*~
Freddy shot up in bad, gasping for breath. His entire body was coated in a thin layer of sweat and he felt as though his lungs were caked in tar. He clutched the sheets tightly as he waited for his breath to become steady again. A few moments later, he was able to draw normal breaths and he sighed, much more content. He glanced at the clock. Shit! 7:15?! I am sooo late! He kicked his legs to the side, trying to stand up, but instead got tangled in his bed sheets and fell to the floor, hitting his head on his night stand and falling hard on his ass.
Freddy simply sat there for a moment, feeling wave upon wave of pain pass over him. He felt very much like weeping. He wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and cry himself to sleep…or to do some more heroin. Speaking of which…he grabbed the $200 off of his nightstand and tossed it on the bed. He would get some more heroin on his way home from school. Opening his dresser drawer, Freddy pulled out the first shirt and pair of pants he found. The pants were black, baggy, and at least two sizes to big around the waist. He slid the $200 into his back pocket and patted it affectionately. The shirt he pulled on was a black one that had a drum set and the words "Musician Looking for Groupies" etched across the front of it. It still fit him like a second skin, but it was better than the belly shirt. Pulling on a pair of flame-patterned converse, he grabbed his book bag and high tailed it out the door. It took him no time at all to get his car going- a beat up black t-bird- and he was on his way to school.
~*~
"So if a equals 145, then what does b equal?" The teacher scanned the room looking for the answer, but the class was less than enthusiastic. "Anyone. Anyone?"
Bueller? Zack couldn't help but think, rather amused. Bueller? Bueller?
"Summer?"
Zack tuned Summer out, not caring what the answer was or how it was achieved. He glanced yet again at the empty seat next to him. Where the hell could he be?
The door flew open and 24 pairs of eyes all fixed their attention on the blond boy standing in the doorway. Zack smiled, happy to see his best friend…who was, he noted, looking rather nice that day. Freddy's pants were hanging loosely about his hips, so loose it looked as though they would fall off if given half a chance. The shirt was nearly skin-tight, and clung to Freddy's toned chest in all the right places. The entire class was staring and it wasn't just the girls who swooned. Zack's smile grew as he noticed about half the boys staring at Freddy appreciatively, but the smile faded when he looked at Freddy's face closer. The blond looked positively exhausted. There were bags under his eyes, his hair was more tousled than usual, and his face looked…drawn. As though he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in a while.
"Sorry I'm late," Freddy said. He adjusted his backpack, tugging it a bit higher on his shoulder.
The teacher smiled. "I'm sorry, too, Freddy; I like having you here. I'll let it slide this time, okay? But I'd like to see you after class."
"Sure thing." Freddy walked to the back of the room. Either he was unaware that people were ogling his ass or he just didn't care. He slid into his seat next to Zack and dropped his bag to the floor, half-heartedly pulling out pencils and a notebook.
"Dude, you okay?" Zack asked. Freddy slowly turned to face him, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. "Freddy, you look like hell, man!"
"…warmed over," Freddy said. "I look like hell warmed over. And thank you for pointing it out," he added dryly.
"Sorry," Zack said.
"You're my best friend. You're supposed to tell me that I look ravishing."
"Okay…you look ravishing."
Freddy shot Zack a scathing look. "Like you mean it."
Zack grinned and opened his mouth to respond, but the teacher cleared his throat loudly.
"If the lovebirds in the back row would care to be quiet for the last two and a half minutes of class…?"
The class broke into giggles and Freddy perked up a bit, tossing a smile to the teacher and scooting his desk closer to Zack. "Sorry, Mr. Peterson," he said, a flamboyant air in his voice which wasn't normally there. He leaned over, wrapping his arms tightly around Zack. "Just can't keep my hands off him, you know how it is."
The teacher laughed. "Well, try to do so in my class, please."
"Okay, I'll try," Freddy said, running his fingers through Zack's shaggy hair. "…but I can't guarantee it'll work." He smiled at Zack, a sultry smile, and Zack blew him a kiss. The class giggled around them and Mr. Peterson suppressed a smile, but with some difficulty. The bell rang before he could speak another word of Algebra. He sighed.
"You two always manage to wreak havoc in my class…oh well, be gone with you!" They were halfway out the door when he called "except you, Freddy…you come here."
'I'll wait for you' Zack mouthed, and went into the hallway. Freddy turned back to the now empty room. Mr. Peterson beckoned to him.
"Come here, Freddy." The blonde came a bit closer. "Now…do you want to tell me what's going on?"
"I don't know what you mean, sir."
"Come on, Freddy, I treat you with respect, please show some to me. I know that something is wrong. You were always good about coming to class on time. You never made…great grades…but you tried hard, and with the help of that Zack of yours you did just fine…but lately…" he sighed. "Lately your grades have suffered. You show up late to class, and even when you show up on time you still look positively exhausted. Is there something going on? A problem at home?"
Freddy shook his head. "No, sir. Everything's fine."
Mr. Peterson stared at Freddy, who stared back with his best poker face. Finally, the older man sighed, unconvinced. "All right," he said wearily. "All right. You can go."
Just as Freddy was stepping out the door, he heard his name again.
"Freddy," Mr. Peterson called. Freddy paused and looked over his shoulder. "If…if anything is wrong…I want you to know that you can come to me. Always know that. And you have Zack there, too. Don't keep it all bottled up inside, okay? It's not good for you. Promise me you won't do that."
There was only a fraction of a pause. "I promise," Freddy said.
~*~
"So what was that all about, huh?"
"All what?" Freddy asked, pretending he didn't know what Zack was talking about.
"Mr. Peterson," Zack said. "You know what I'm talking about Freddy, don't pretend you don't."
Freddy kicked his locker and it sprang open. He began rifling through his books. "It's nothing, Zack, just stay out of it."
"It's not nothing, Freddy. You look like shit. You look like you got hit by five bikers, three cars, two pick-up trucks and a sixteen-wheeler."
"Gee, you're certainly fantastic with the compliments this morning, Mooneyham," Freddy said sarcastically.
"Well, it's true, Freddy. You look terrible and I want to know why."
"Step off, Zack."
"Talk to me, Freddy."
"I said step off, Zack!" Freddy slammed his locker shut.
"Not until you tell me what the fuck's going on!"
"Step the FUCK off, Mooneyham!" Freddy turned to face Zack, eyes blazing. Zack looked shocked at Freddy's words. Feeling just the tiniest hint of remorse, Freddy turned away and began walking down the hall. A moment later, Zack followed him, shoving other students out of the way.
"Geez, you don't got to be fucking rude, Freddy," he said quietly.
"Well you didn't leave it," Freddy replied, not looking at Zack.
"Look," Zack's hand shot out and he caught Freddy by the shoulder, halting the other boy in his tracks. Freddy stared balefully at Zack. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. But…you know…." He looked around at all the kids filing back and forth past them to class. The bell rang and all the kids bolted into various rooms. They were alone in the hallway. "You're my best friend, Freddy. I'm just worried about you. If anything happened to you…" he took a deep breath and made a helpless gesture, at a loss for words. "…I don't know what I'd do! I don't think I'd be able to function without you! I need you around, man. You keep me sane."
There was a pause. "Don't kid yourself," Freddy said. Zack looked at him, stricken; Freddy smiled. "You were never sane."
Zack smiled back. "Well….you keep me as sane as I can be. Seriously, Freddy. If something is wrong…you know you can talk to me….don't you?"
Freddy nodded, eyes averted. "…yes."
"Then promise me." Zack's voice was fervent, his hands clutched Freddy's shoulders tightly. "Promise me that if something happens, if anything goes wrong in your life, promise me that you'll tell me…that you'll talk to me if you need help...promise me."
Freddy hesitated a moment, then nodded. "I promise."
It was the first time he had ever lied to Zack.
~tbc~