Chapter 4:
Just the Beginning
Gilbert threw the basketball into the air a couple times, catching it smoothly. It seemed like he wanted to mention something, but didn't know what to say. Alfred was bent over his right leg, stretching for the practice, and was about to switch legs when Gilbert finally spoke.
"So dude, uh, you know that school musical thing?" He paused for a moment, fumbling for a second comment that wouldn't make him seem too suspicious. "Is it true you get extra credit just for auditioning?"
Alfred finished up his stretches, and straightened up. He made it a point to roll his eyes and give his best friend an are-you-crazy look. "Who cares?"
"You know it's always good to get extra credit," Gilbert laughed and smiled slightly, before pausing and frowning, "for college."
"You ever think that Lebron James or Shaquille O'Neal auditioned for their school musical?" Alfred asked rhetorically, scoffing.
"Maybe," he answered quickly, but unsure.
"Gilbert, look," Alfred began, stretching his arms over his head one at a time. "The music in those shows aren't hip hop, okay? or rock, or anything essential to culture." He paused for a moment, smiling at his friend's laugh. "It's like, show music. It's all costumes and makeup." Alfred shuddered, "Dude, it's frightening."
"Yeah, I know," Gilbert responded, slightly down trodden. "I just thought it might be a good laugh, you know." He paused, debating if he should say the next thing or not. Of course, he did. "Francis is kinda cute, too."
"So is a mountain lion," Alfred snorted and began to walk away, taking the basketball from his teammate's grip. "But you don't try to pet it."
Gilbert looked down, internally scolding himself for even bringing the topic up. He put his hand on his hip and took a deep breath, then sighed. Really, he shouldn't be thinking about anything but basketball right now, the team needed him.
"All right, Wildcats! Pair up!" He announced loudly in the gym, clapping to get the team going. "Let's go! C'mon!"
The team broke up into pairs, some starting off by passing the basketball around their sides to their partner. Other pairs began some dribble drills, or practicing their lay-ups. The different types of basketball drills and basketball shoes squeaking on the floor filled the gym, echoing into a beat.
"Coach said, fake right, and break left," Gilbert sang, following the lyrics by passing left. "Watch out for the pick / and keep your eye on defense," he reminded his team mates, "You gotta give the give and go / and take the ball to the hole."
Dodging his team mates, he made his way outside the defenders and continued to sing, "But don't be afraid / to shoot the outside 'J'" Gilbert shot the basketball to the hoop and scored, clapping in achievement, reminding himself to, "Just keep ya head in the game."
"You gotta getcha, getcha head in the game," he called out loudly to the team.
Echoing back, the gym was filled with a chorus of voices singing, "We gotta get our, get our, get our head in the game!" Everyone spread out, doing quick passes and dribbling, continuing to shout the chorus.
A player shot the basketball, but didn't make it, and Gilbert jumped for the rebound.
"A second chance / gotta grab it and go / maybe this time / we'll get the right notes" He sang again, drawing the o in notes out theatrically, before pausing and looking mortified. "Wait a minute / it's not the time or place / wait a minute / gotta get my head in the game."
His teammates noticed and began singing again as well, "You gotta getcha, getcha, getcha, getcha head in the game." Gilbert agreed, "I gotta get my, get my head in the game." They went back and forth, singing loudly and pumping the team up, before everyone kneeled and Gilbert was left standing alone.
"Why am I feeling so wrong? / my head's in the game / but my heart's in the song."
Gilbert sighed, quiet for a moment. He stopped singing long enough to ask no one in particular, "Should I go for it? Better shake this, wow."
"I gotta get my, get my head in the game," he sang for the last time.
Agreeing, the team echoed with their encouragement of, "You gotta getcha, getcha, getcha head in the game."
They laughed and cheered together, throwing their basketballs at their captain. Jumping on each others shoulders and being loud, they walked away from Gilbert, leaving him standing alone. He was left with their chants of "What team?" Wildcats! "What team?" Wildcats!
Sighing, he stood there alone, unsure of what to do. He looked up grimly at the hoop, and halfheartedly shot a basket. It scored. Soon enough, even the chants had stopped echoing, and the gym was quiet. Staring longingly at nothing in particular, Gilbert reluctantly turned around and slowly made his way to the locker room.
Matthew looked down at his paper intently, tapping his pencil on the table absentmindedly. He smiled as the answer came to him, and wrote feverishly before being interrupted by a voice.
"So," Francis announced, coming out of nowhere, "It seems like you knew Gilbert Beilschmidt."
"Not really," he denied, looking up, before smiling politely. "He was just showing me around." Thinking the conversation was done, he shifted his attention back to the math assignment. Matthew glanced up once more when the teen continued talking.
"Well, Gilbert doesn't really interact with new students," Francis explained with a chuckle.
Matthew turned slightly, glancing at the chalkboard in the front of the room. Without paying much attention, he mumbled, "Why not?" before concentrating on what looked like to be an error on the board.
"It's like, pretty much 24/7 basketball with him," Francis explained, but was ignored.
"That should be 16 over pi," he commented, still facing the chalkboard, but didn't go out of his way to correct the teacher. Arthur, who was sitting next to him, perked up at the announcement. Which was, apparently, heard by the teacher.
"Yes, Mr. Williams?" the teacher drawled, looking unimpressed while he fidgeted.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I just, uh…" Matthew trailed off, shy and nervous. Gathering the courage, when the teacher nodded, he asked "Shouldn't the second equation read 16 over pi?"
"16 over pi?" the teacher scoffed while Francis rolled his eyes. She moved forward to her desk, commenting, "That's quite impossible." Quickly calculating the second equation with the calculator on her desk, she straightened up and smiled good naturedly. "I stand corrected," she admitted and turned to fix the equation on the board, before turning back and smiling, "Welcome aboard."
Arthur carefully glanced between the chalkboard and Matthew, who was currently smiling shyly. His lips quirked into somewhat of a smile, one that screamed he was planning something. For the last glance at the new student, Arthur smirked and crossed his arms triumphantly. Of course, at the same time, Francis was looking utterly disgusted by the course of events.
Gilbert carefully observed the area surrounding the sign up sheet, before determining it was clear and shuffled up to the bulletin board. Eyeing the sheet for a few seconds, he looked extremely conflicted, awkwardly moving his feet and glancing around suspiciously. He licked his lips before nodding to himself and walking off.
Leaning on the side of the staircase, Feliciano smiled without malice as Gilbert walked off. He walked forward, at first to look at the sign up sheet, but changed his mind as he pulled Francis aside to the bulletin board.
"Gilbert Beilschmidt was looking at our audition list," Feliciano explained to his brother.
"Again?" Francis asked, disbelieving. Feli raised his eyebrows in confusion. "You know, he was hanging around that new guy and they were both looking at the list. There's something freaky about him," Francis commented as the other teenager turned to stare at the list. "Where did you say he was from?"
He rolled his eyes when his brother didn't answer. Feli was too busy staring at the sign up sheet, seeming to daydream. Scoffing, he turned and walked away from the bulletin board, but was soon followed by his loyal entertainer. They went to the computer section of the library and quickly did a search on Matthew Williams.
"Wow!" Feliciano chirped, pointing at the first link that popped up. It read in big, bold letters, Whiz Kid Leads School to Scholastic Championship. The siblings looked at each other, dumbfounded and read the article. "A modern day Einstein, huh. So why do you think he's interested in our musical?"
Francis pondered this for a moment. He shrugged and explained, "I'm not sure that he is. And, we needn't concern ourselves with amateurs. But…" Francis smirked, a plan forming in his mind. "There is no harm in making certain that Matthew's welcome to school activities that are, well, appropriate to him. After all, he loves pi."
Feliciano looked down to see his brother staring at him, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. Francis laughed, before pushing up from the computer area and walking away. Confused, Feliciano took one last glance at the computer, and everything suddenly made sense. His brother had just printed the article.