Author's Note- Still not mine. Doi.
Thankyou SO much to my reviewers. You guys are absolute champions. Thanks for building my self esteem- it's really great after a crappy day at school to see your review. But remember, crits are helpful too. I know this is kind of light, fluffy, done-before goo, but it's my break from schoolwork, and I'm trying to improve my writing.
Anyway, yet another chapter. I try and keep them a bit short so you're not wading through long decorative passages about how beautiful someone's milkshake is (it's been done before, I swear)
Oh, and I'm trying mostly to keep romance out of here, but if there's any pairing you want ESPECIALLY, you review and let me know, ok?
And now for...
CHAPTER THREE
It was very quiet at home. It was always very quiet at home. Zack let himself in- the front door was already unlocked, meaning his mom was home- and took off his school shoes, placing them neatly in the shoe rack like he'd always done. He took his schoolbag up to his room and unpacked it, taking all his schoolbooks out and piling them on his desk. Mrs. Harrison wasn't as averse to giving homework as Mr. S...Mr. Finn...Dewey...had been.
Zack wanted to go and see Dewey, to explain and apologize. But he figured Katie and Freddy would tell him soon enough, and when would he ever get the opportunity to talk to Dewey again? He regretted it though, not being able to tell Dewey face to face.
He took off his wrist cuff and gothic cross and hid them behind the schoolbooks again. They'd never be discovered, as long as he kept them there. Taking off his uniform, he put on trousers and a shirt that his mom had made him first try on, and then actually buy. He was expected to do this- to come downstairs looking like a preppy wanker who's aim was to make the Honor Roll. Which was, in retrospect, exactly what his parents wanted him to be.
'Zack?' His mom's voice drifted up the stairs.
'Yea...yes, Mom?'
'Bring your uniform downstairs to the laundry so I can wash it.' That was his mother's only concern- that her 'baby' was clean and tidy for school. She didn't ask him about his day- that thread of conversation would be used to fill the empty speechless void of the dinner table.
'If you care so much about me, you'll let me go back in the band', he said to himself, under his breath, gathering up his uniform.
Thankyou SO much to my reviewers. You guys are absolute champions. Thanks for building my self esteem- it's really great after a crappy day at school to see your review. But remember, crits are helpful too. I know this is kind of light, fluffy, done-before goo, but it's my break from schoolwork, and I'm trying to improve my writing.
Anyway, yet another chapter. I try and keep them a bit short so you're not wading through long decorative passages about how beautiful someone's milkshake is (it's been done before, I swear)
Oh, and I'm trying mostly to keep romance out of here, but if there's any pairing you want ESPECIALLY, you review and let me know, ok?
And now for...
CHAPTER THREE
It was very quiet at home. It was always very quiet at home. Zack let himself in- the front door was already unlocked, meaning his mom was home- and took off his school shoes, placing them neatly in the shoe rack like he'd always done. He took his schoolbag up to his room and unpacked it, taking all his schoolbooks out and piling them on his desk. Mrs. Harrison wasn't as averse to giving homework as Mr. S...Mr. Finn...Dewey...had been.
Zack wanted to go and see Dewey, to explain and apologize. But he figured Katie and Freddy would tell him soon enough, and when would he ever get the opportunity to talk to Dewey again? He regretted it though, not being able to tell Dewey face to face.
He took off his wrist cuff and gothic cross and hid them behind the schoolbooks again. They'd never be discovered, as long as he kept them there. Taking off his uniform, he put on trousers and a shirt that his mom had made him first try on, and then actually buy. He was expected to do this- to come downstairs looking like a preppy wanker who's aim was to make the Honor Roll. Which was, in retrospect, exactly what his parents wanted him to be.
'Zack?' His mom's voice drifted up the stairs.
'Yea...yes, Mom?'
'Bring your uniform downstairs to the laundry so I can wash it.' That was his mother's only concern- that her 'baby' was clean and tidy for school. She didn't ask him about his day- that thread of conversation would be used to fill the empty speechless void of the dinner table.
'If you care so much about me, you'll let me go back in the band', he said to himself, under his breath, gathering up his uniform.