Disclaimer: No ownage of Newsies of the Sloan song 'Everybody Wants You'. Please don't sue—I'm so poor I couldn't even afford Christmas presents for my friends.

Chapter 3 – Everybody Wants You

Mush groaned, glaring at the half-sheet of paper in his hand. Their guidance counsilor had decided to have them each answer a 'get to know you' question in front of the class in light of David's arrival. Mush's read, "Tell about your favorite movie." It figured he'd get something boring.

"Alright, everybody, settle down! We're going in alphabetical order, so we'll begin with Mr. Ballatt, please."

Kid Blink stood and strolled to the front of the room. "My topic is, 'Who is the most important person in your life?' I think I'd have to say my boyfriend, Mush, because he gives great head." With that, Blink marched back to his seat.

Mrs. Keely, the councilor, cleared her throat and called, "Mr. Conté?"

Bumlets leapt up and walked to the front of the room with his paper clutched in a hand. Clearing his throat, he read aloud, "'What is your life's ambition?' I plan to start up a business somewhere and make lots of money."

David was next. "My topic's a little ironic," he began, "since it asks for a description of my best and worst birthday. My worst would have to be my 11th birthday—you guys were all there. Remember?"

Blink yelled, "Yeah, yeah! We were playing Crims & Cops and you jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge because we were beating you with our cop-sticks!"

"Only you couldn't swim," Mush added.

"Oh, yeah—and the guy who saved you wasn't sad that you almost died, just pissed because you hurt his river or something," Skittery said, recalling the experience with a grin on his face.

David continued, "Yeah, that's why we left. My best was probably my 14th, simply because nothing bad happened."

Next was Dutchy. "I'm supposed to tell about my parents," he said bitterly. "Of all the people in this grade with fucked-up parents, the one with NORMAL ones gets it. There's nothing to tell—uh... they're from Holland? There's nothing weird about them."

After Dutchy, Jack went. Mush had to admit he wasn't all that interested in the answers—he already knew plenty about the other boys, thank you very much. So Mush zoned out until he heard his name called. Even then, he just got up, said something about the musical RENT, and sat back down.

When it was Spot's turn, he read, "'Tell us about your best Christmas.'" Then with a smirk, he said, "I think I'd have to say last Christmas when I was dating Jason—you guys remember Jason? Mush should."

Mush nodded. "I remember. He pierced my nipples."

"Yeah. So anyway, I got up and went out to the tree and Jason was waiting for me. He told me to drop my pants. Naturally, I did, and he—"

"Okay, I think that's quite enough, Mr. Conlon," Mrs. Keely interrupted.

Spot held up a hand. "No, no, it's not sex, really."

"Well... go on, then, I guess."

So Spot continued. "Anyway, he took out his piercing stuff and gave me a Prince Albert."

Racetrack leapt up. "You have a Prince Albert?!"

"Yeah."

Jack licked his lips. "That's so fucking hot. Spot, can I see?"

Spot smirked. "Does this mean I get a blowjob?"

"As long as I can see your PA."

"You've already seen it."

"As long as I can see it again, then! It just gets hotter every time."

"Right on!"

Jack and Spot walked out. Out of the corner of his eye, Mush noticed David looking sort of a mix of annoyed, stricken, pleased, and interested.

---

Jack and Spot lay on Spot's bed, both in a hazy, euphoric state only experienced after an amazing orgasm. Spot's chest was still heaving and Jack's entire body shimmered from a thin sheen of sweat, smeared on his pecs from Spot's flailing, groping hands. They'd gone quite a bit farther than the simple blowjob they'd been expecting, but neither one was complaining.

Lethargically, Jack flopped on arm over his forehead, wiping the sweat from it. Turning onto his side, he eyed Spot's body.

The two lay in silence for a good five minutes before Jack lifted himself up on one elbow.

"Um, Spot? D'you think we should, y'know... date?"

"No."

Jack frowned. "Oh."

The silence stretched until Jack began again.

"Because I've kind of been thinking... maybe we should?"

Spot didn't move. "Why?"

"Well... I dunno, I mean, it seems like we end up hooking up a LOT—"

"I'm a gay, horny teenage boy. You're a gay, horny teenage boy. It's natural."

Feeling discouraged but determined, Jack continued, "And, um, I dunno... I think I might be kind of... getting feelings for you..."

Silence.

"Jack, do you have a vagina?"

"Wha—no!"

"You're acting like it."

"I'm just saying—"

"I like no-strings-attached sex, okay Jack? Hooking up with friends is what I do. Liking friends is not."

"Yeah, I guess," Jack mumbled, turning his back to Spot. "It was stupid of me to even..." He blinked hard. His eyes burned.

---

"Okay, guys," Blink said, clapping his hands together in a down-to-business manner at lunch. "It's up to us to find out if David's gay. Because he and Jack HAVE to hook up."

"Why?" Skittery asked.

"They'd be so cute together!"

Snitch asked, "What about Spot?"

"If he's anything like he used to be, they're not dating anyway, so it doesn't matter."

"If he's anything like he used to be, he won't like having his boy toy taken away from him."

Blink shrugged and Mush jabbed a finger at Snitch. "Point."

"So anyway, I figure, who better for the job than a team of four gays?"

"I'm bi," corrected Skittery.

With an irritated glance, Blink ammended, "A team of three gays and a halfie. Here's how it's gonna happen—Snitch, you're on recording responses, okay? You just write how he responds to certain pre-recorded scenarios and questions and so on. We'll congregate at some point to contemplate the results, tally them up, and come up with a verdict."

Skittery turned to Mush. "Your boyfriend's scary when he's planning something."

"I know, isn't it hot?"

Blink continued as if neither boy had opened his mouth. "Phase One begins at dinner tonight."

---

David's entire morning had been taken up by the silly introduction ceremony—as if he didn't already know these boys—in which he had learned very little beyond:

Mush liked RENT, which David also liked.

Jack and Spot were both at LEAST bi, if not gay. And probably dating. Or just fucking with him, no pun intended.

Spot had his penis pierced.

Specs had once had a wet dream about Bigfoot.

Still, he had to get through this afternoon's classes and free period from four to six before dinner. At lunch, Kid Blink had invicted him to sit by them at dinner.

First was choir—he was sitting between Racetrack and Skittery, directly behind his sister, soloing a 3-octave scale so the teacher could get a better idea of his range. So far, this class wasn't David's favorite.

Apparently the chorus was learning a large selection of music that David had never heard of. Immediately David got a formidable feeling—how the hell could the expect him to learn all this music as well as everyone else when they had a three-month head start?!

Gym was slightly less alarming, although no less unpleasant. The class was in the middle of a wrestling unit. David hated wrestling with a passion. He was matched with Spot for the whole class, who appeared to love it. No words were exchanged, Spot just kicked David's ass repeatedly and with very little struggle... all 45 minutes of class. David couldn't WAIT for the class to end, and when it finally did, he jumpted into his normal clothes and bolted.

---

Sarah groaned, pressing her forehead against her door. "I can't believe this!"

It was her first day and already she'd lost her key. What's more, she'd been informed at registration that they were never reissued keys.

A voice behind her asked, "What's wrong? Did you lose your key?"

Sarah turned. The boy was raising his eyebrows and grinning. "Yeah," she said, fully ready to kick his ass if he started mocking her.

Instead he pulled a thin wire from his pocket and stuck it in the lock. It took about five seconds of jiggling and the door popped open. "They're so easy to jimmy it's not even funny. Bring a wire everywhere for the rest of the year. I don't have a key either." He moved aside to let Sarah through. "I'm Itey."

Sarah grabbed him by the upper arms and let her head drop on his chest. "Thank you so much..."

---

When dinner came, Blink, Mush, and Skittery were talking in hushed voices. Snitch was flipping through a notebook labeled 'Phase One'. David sat down. He had a plate of pizza and an orange juice. Mush gave Snitch a meaningful glance.

"Oh, David—I've got a question." Blink shoved a forkful of beans into his mouth. "Did you have any girlfriends in Wisconsin?"

"No...?"

This time Mush spoke up. "What color is your shirt?"

David didn't even have to look. "Azure with lavender pinstripes."

Everyone stared at him for a minute until Skittery said, "Wow."

Snitch scribbled something on a page and, flipping to the next, asked, "David, what brand is it?"

"Prada."

Blink's eyes popped open. "Holy shit! How much did it cost? You've gotta be fucking LOADED!"

"I got it for Christmas from my loaded grandmother. She's really into designer fashion and made me memorize the designers, cuts, and colors of everything she bought me that year. She's crazy. Believe me—left to my own devices, I wouldn't know Prada from a Wal-mart off-brand or azure from maize."

Snitch made some notes in his notebook. Mush and Blink exchanged a meaningful look, and Skittery shoved a forkful of green beans in his mouth.

"Did you ever play with Barbies as a kid?"

"My sister made me play with hers. She threatened to put makeup on me if I didn't—in her words, make me 'the prettiest little brother in the world'. And she didn't even know how to apply it yet."

"Who was your best friend in Wisconisn?"

"I didn't really have a best friend... I was kind of a loner. But I guess a girl named Jessica—we were pretty close. She let me borrow a bra when I was a girl for Halloween. She had a nice rack—36Ds."

"Did people make fun of you in Wisconsin?" Snitch glanced up from his notebook just long enough to address David.

"Oh yeah—people called me a nerd, dork, geek, noob, faggot, fairy, Bardhead, etc..."

"Bardhead?"

"Yeah. That's what people called theatre geeks there."

"Ah. Who wrote 'I Touch Myself'?"

"The Devynils, although Jack Off Jill did a great cover of it."

"What're some Madonna songs you know?"

"I only know 'Like A Virgin'..."

"What's your stand on gay rights?"

"I'm for them, for sure."

"Fabulous!"

---

Bumlets ran a hand through his hair. He and Swifty were working on their homework together while Snoddy and Pie Eater were—Bumlets furrowed his brow. He didn't know where they were. Shaking his head, Bumlets went back to his Shakespearean Lit homework.

---

Dutchy and Specs sat back on Specs's bed, leaning on the wall and watching Moulin Rouge on Dutchy's mini-TV. The air was thick with smoke that stunk strongly of weed, and their eyes were red and their pupils dilated. Spec's favorite pipe lay on the bed, and a open bag next to it. For the third night in a row, Dutchy enjoyed himself. For the third night in a row, late at night when he had come down, Dutchy wondered if he'd ever be able to kick the habit.

---

Snoddy's thigh was slick with blood. With a kleenex, he sponged away as much as he could. As more blood bubbled up, he looked at the three deep slashes criss-crossing over the pink or pearly white scars decorating his legs. Dropping his pocketknife to the floor, he let his face flush and his eyes sting. A few tears leaked out and he made no move to wipe them away. He'd promised himself so many times—This is the last time. I'll never do it again. Why couldn't he just stick to that?

---

Pie Eater pulled his pants back on. He was still breathing hard and his face was covered in sweat, beading up and running down into his eyes.

Next to him, Racetrack was yanking his sweatshirt back over his head. The two dressed in silence. Then, Pie Eater spoke.

"Good job, today, Racetrack. Seems like nobody can outrun you."

Racetrack shrugged. "Everybody's good at something, and I'm good at running. Thanks, though. You didn't do half bad yourself."

Pie Eater picked up his bag. Track was his one hobby that Bumlets, Swifty, and Snoddy disapproved of. They thought it meant he mixed too much with the 'lesser' population of the school. Dutchy, of course, didn't give a shit, and, for once, Pie Eater was tempted to side with him.

As much as he knew Dutchy as a pothead (a fact that Dutchy knew he knew, and both very carefully kept from Bumlets and the others) and thought he was too laid-back and open, Pie Eater was starting to feel himself siding with Dutchy more and more. Honestly, at this point, Pie Eater often thought that the only reason he put up with Bumlets' bigotry was the enormous, inexplicable crush he'd developed.

---

"Okay," Blink said, clapping his hands together. He, Mush, Skittery, and Snitch sat around the Phase One notebook on Skittery's bed. They had a small whiteboard with two columns drawn on it labeled 'GAY' and 'STRAIGHT'. There was also an enormous bag of barbecue chips between Snitch and Skittery. "We'll discuss the answers David gave and we'll score them into gay points and straight points."

For the first question—the girlfriend one—Blink marked a tally beneath 'GAY'.

"David could identify his shirt as azure and lavender—AND he knew it was Prada. That's gotta be worth at least two gay points," Skittery said, licking orange off his fingers from the chips.

"Yeah," Mush responded, "But he said it was his grandmother's fault. He said he wouldn't know anything about it if it weren't for her."

"So... one gay point for knowing and one straight point for it being his gran's fault?"

"Alright."

Blink spoke up after marking down the two tallies. "He played with his sister's Barbies, which is pretty gay."

Holding up a finger, Skittery added, "But only at the threat of makeup, which is very straight indeed."

"Point," Blink conceded, "But he said it in a way that implied that if Sarah actually knew what she was doing with her makeup he'd have been cool with it."

"One straight, one gay?"

"Word," Snitch said.

Everybody stopped for a moment and stared at him.

"NEVER try to be cool again," Mush said before moving on to, "His best friend was a girl, but he said he liked her boobs."

"Again, one of each."

"But he was called a fag in Wisconsin, so one gay."

"He only knew one Madonna song, so we'll give him a straight."

"But he seemed well-versed in 'I Touch Myself', so we can award him another gay."

"And he's for gay rights, so—"

"Oh, come on, that's a really dumb question. Even straight people can be for gay rights. Who wrote that one, anyway?"

"You did."

"Shut up."

Blink interrupted the quarrel by announcing, "It's six to four—things are looking good for Jack, but it's not over yet!"

---

That night, David had a dream. Jack and he were in bed... together... completely naked... covered in sweat... and he was going to come soon... and—

"Get up, David!" Jake shook David's shoulder roughly and yanked the covers off. "Ah..." his eyes traveled down to David's crotch and he blushed. Averting his eyes, he said, "I'll... you can have the bathroom first if you want to... take care of that..."

David glanced down. The front of his pajama pants was tenting. He blushed as well and rushed off to the bathroom.

A/N: Longest chapter of this fic so far. It took me forever to finish because I kind of deserted it for a little while... I've been on a HUGE RENT/Anthony Rapp (mostly the latter) kick lately. I haven't written any RENT fanfic either, but I've been like "OMGRZ ANTHONYYYYYYY!" 24/7. Reread his memoir Without You, watched Adventures in Babysitting, a movie he was in when he was like... 16 or something. So I haven't really been in the mood for Newsies, just ANTHONY ANTHONY ANTHONY! I love him tons. So Sunday I buckled down and finished it. Then I had to put it through my beta, and now, finally, I'm putting it up.

I bet you perverts thought the part with Pie Eater and Racetrack was sex at first... you sick bastards! Pie Eater and Racetrack?! NEVER!

I loved writing the part with Jack asking Spot out... it was so cute!

Reviews make me feel loveded... please?! Sorry to beg... but I feel like I really want feedback on this chapter. It was superlong and not as humerous as I expected it to be...

Okay, so... I'll stop babbling now and just... go. Because this Author's Note is getting ridiculous.