A/N: "Hey there my little muffin tops, isn't it a bright and sunshiney day today?" Yeah...I feel like that's what I hear every time I turn on the tv in the morning. Kid's shows are getting more and more intoxicated as time goes on. I mean sure, Dragon Tales and Barney were a little flambouyant, but the shows they have on nowadays are ranking up to well past the point of being emotionally unstable, psychosis-inducing.
Anywho...just thought I'd go ahead and update. I figured nobody would mind. :D
Chapter 11: What Lurks Behind Closed Drawers
Blair's POV
"Mr. Foster!" The sharp, snapping tone of the horse-riding instructor jerked me out of my stupor. She was a short, thin woman with a mousey little face and fierce blue eyes. Strands of her blonde hair fell out of her riding helmet and lay against her slightly sweaty forhead. She was currently perched ontop of a large, dappled horse named Minnie, and it made her seem as intimidating as her loud voice.
"Er...who? Oh...me! Yeah..." I said, pointing to myself like I was retarded or something. Me and Bob had been laughing about our recent prank on Eric, and apparently, Ms. Folger had caught that my attention was elsewhere other than her instructions.
"Mr. Foster..." she repeated sternly, staring straight down at me where I sat on a hay bale with Bob, "Would you kindly share with us the name of THIS body part? It should be easy enough, seeing as I've just gone over it." She pointed to a spot on the lower part of the horse where it's back met it's thigh. I stared at it for a minute, the answer completely escaping me. The only time I had come anywhere near a horse was almost ten years ago. I was seven and we were on a Girl Scout fieldtrip.
In fact, I had wanted a pony for a little while. At least until I figured out that all a pony really meant was huge steaming piles of crap all over your lawn, but no rainbows or magical fields. :(
"Er...the...edible part?" I said hesitantly, looking around for help. Bob looked just as baffled by the question. The other students burst out laughing at this, and Ms. Folger shook her head in dissappointment.
"No, Mr. Foster...I believe the correct term is loin. I catch you not paying attention again and it's detention after dinner." And with that, she went on to her next topic of discussion. The whole lesson was pretty boring until the end when we actually got to go near the horses. Only then did it actually get interesting.
"God...how are you supposed to get on these things?" Bob was saying, eyeing the horse suspiciously. He walked cautiously to it and put both hands on it's back. It gave a soft whinny, and he backed away abruptly. "Uh-uh...no way. That thing is going to eat me or something." He raised both hands in the air as if in surrender, and continued to back up.
"Relax Bob, it's not as hard as it looks. It's actually pretty easy. Come on...I did it when I was in Girl Scouts, and that was like...ten years ago." I gestured at the horse while he stared at me like I had suddenly grown another head. I looked behind me. "What?" I said, confused when I saw nothing. "Did I say something?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Er...nope, not at all. Okay..." He tentatively approached it again and this time cocked his head to the side. "Alright..so I'm just gonna..." He leaned in and tried to push himself up onto its back. It neighed this time, and shifted, causing him to almost fall forward. "Alright, so it's gonna be like that, is it now?" Bob cracked his knuckles, backing up again. I shook my head, wondering what exactly he meant to do. And suddenly, he was climbing up onto a nearby pile of boxes filled with horse feed.
"So it's come to this, has is, Bessy? Well...I'll show you a thing or two about horse riding." Bob muttered to himself from the top of the pile.
"Er...Bob, what exactly are you doing up-" And he suddenly jumped ontop of the horse from where he stood. It emitted a shrill scream of neighs and brays, before bucking wildly. Bob, who had his arms and legs wrapped around it's middle, slid to the side so that his face was burried in the horse's rib cage. And then it swished around and shot out of the holding area like a bullet, with Bob still hanging on for dear life.
"Mother fucker!" I heard him yell as the horse bashed through the slightly open fence entrance and out towards the sports field a little ways away. I stood where I was in dismay, watching it circle around a group of boys in jerseys. Ms. Folger calmly trotted up beside me on her horse, pulling a walkie-talkie out of her pocket.
"Hello, we have a bit of a situation down here. We had another one try to jump onto the horses to mount the saddle. We'll be needing an ice pack and some rags, then. Thanks." I looked up at her as she watched Bob calmly from where she sat, not even bothering to pretend to be concerned.
"Umm...what do we need the rags for?" I asked, looking back at Bob who was now slipping slowly from the horse as it high-tailed it back towards the stables.
"You'll see in five, four, three...two...one..." And Bob was suddenly thrown from the horse. He flew a couple feet forward, airborne, before landing smack dab in a big pile of...
"Shit? Of all the places I could've landed after falling off of that stupid horse, I had to land in a heaping pile of horse shit? It's official...God hates me." Bob was complaining loudly as we trecked up the path back towards school. The rest of the kids had run ahead of us as we lagged behind, but T.J. was also accompanying us back up the hill.
I rolled my eyes as we listened to him complain all the way up to the big double doors that led us to the entrance hall. "And guess what, Bob..." I started to tease, "We have history class next. Doesn't that sound like fun?" He groaned loudly.
"Ugh...well, I have to go change anyways. Maybe it'll take me longer than I thought it would, and perhaps my two friends will back me up with the story that I sprained my ankle in a horse riding accident..." He smiled at us hopefully and put his hand up to his face to complete the angelic look. Me and T.J. looked at eachother.
"Well, it depends what's in it for the two friends." I hinted, raising my eyebrows.
"How about a freebie cover up story from me the next time you guys want to skip. I can come up with some good ones." I thought about it. Hmm...well, not much of a benefit for me, seeing as I was leaving tomorrow morning, but... Oh crap...I was leaving tomorrow morning. And that familiar sinking feeling returned to the pit of my stomach. I looked at Bob and saw him riding sideways on his horse again. I looked at T.J. and saw him laughing hysterically after the prank we played on Eric.
It made me wonder...What did they see when they looked at Mason? Not me...that's what. They saw a pseudonym for Blair. A fake. And they believed it. And that's when the guilt started to creep in. The feeling that I was using, and betraying. "We'll take it." T.J. offered, grabbing my arm. "Now come on...we're late enough as it is." And I allowed myself to be lead to the history classroom, hollow again.
I spent the rest of the day stumbling around listlessly, not able to concentrate on anything but my immenent departure tomorrow morning. T.J. asked me on multiple occasions if I was alright, to which I responded that I was fine, just tired from a bad night's sleep. He seemed a little skeptical about my story, but didn't push any more questions at me.
It was now dinner time. Usually, one of the most jovial times of my day here. When all of us were together in a group, laughing and joking around, not a care in the world. But today...it was a solemn affair for me. I wasn't even hungry. I pushed the fish sticks around on my plate and made halfhearted attempts to put a strawberry or two in my mouth, but it all tasted like dust. And when I'm not hungry, you know that something is SERIOUSLY wrong. And apparently, Mikey caught this as well.
"You okay?" he asked me under his breath, as he was sitting next to me. I nodded my head, and took a bite out of a fish stick to appease him. He looked at me with a critical eye. "No you're not..." he pressed, "What's wrong? I've never seen you like this. What happened? Did somebody find out about your...situation?" I turned to him, feeling suddenly a bit bitter at all these questions he was throwing at me.
"You know what, Mikey? There's really alot that you just don't understand right now, okay? And I can hardly concentrate on my own thoughts let alone someone else's questions." His expression suddenly looked quite withdrawn and he slowly turned away and resumed munching on his food, not looking at me. I sighed, feeling guiltier than ever. What the hell had Mikey ever done to me? He'd kept my secret, been my friend, and now all he wanted was to make sure I was okay. And here I was...yelling at him.
I reached out and touched his shoulder. "Mikey, I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. I've just been on edge today, I guess. But no...nothing's seriously wrong." I lied, almost trying to convince myself of this. He was quiet for a minute, but then he looked at me again.
"That is complete and utter bullshit, and you know it. If you don't wanna tell me what's wrong, that's fine. But I though we agreed, no more secrets." For the first time since I had known him, he looked a little pissed at me. I felt my eyebrows raise, and I backed up a little bit. I had never seen him angry before. I bit my lip. He looked at me for a little bit longer as though expecting me to say something.
"Mikey...I-I don't know how to explain. I just..." I was completely at a loss for the right words. Now didn't seem like the right time to tell him that I was leaving. I couldn't just spring it on him like that, but he was pissed that I wasn't telling him. He sighed heavily and stood up.
"Hey, I have to go. The biology teacher wanted to see me about something." And he started to walk away from the table, followed by the confused expressions of his friends. I was the only one who knew that it was me who had made him leave. And I felt an absolutely horrendous amount of guilt set in. They all turned to look at me. I avoided having to talk by taking a huge bite of fish stick, and nearly gagging on it.
The rest of dinner, everyone was unusually quiet. Almost as if everyone knew something was on the verge of happening. When everyone's plates were clean, but no one moved, I finally climbed up from the table and asked if anyone was actually going to GO to study hall that night. They all shook their heads. I sighed and then said that I was going to go upstairs and lay down because I felt sick. No one said anything.
I wobbled up the stairs, and almost made it to the room, when I got this uncontrollable feeling inside of me, and a sob wracked my lungs. I ducked quickly into the bathroom, thanking God that it was deserted, and locked myself in a stall. I let the tears run down my face, breathing loudly against any sobs that wanted to escape. I closed my wet eyes and leaned my head against the side wall, sitting on the toilet with the seat down. I hadn't cried this hard in years. I wasn't normally a crier. Ever.
I was so wrapped up in my unexplainable tears, I didn't hear that someone was walking quietly into the bathroom, and continued to cry as quietly as possible. In fact, I didn't even notice until I saw a pair of black shoes standing outside of my stall. I halted my tears as quickly as I could, drawing in a shaky breath and holding it. Whoever was standing out there was completely silent. I swallowed the lump in my throat. And then, they began to speak.
"Mason...what's going on?" I felt my misty eyes go wide. Gerard was standing on the other side of the stall, his voice full of concern. I let my breath go, almost choking on the air.
"Um, nothing, really...Just using the bathroom and stuff. Everything's cool...I'll be out in a minute." I tried to sound macho, wiping the tears fiercly from my cheeks with a wad of toilet paper. I heard Gerard sigh.
"Mason, do you really think I'm that stupid? I can hear you crying. What's wrong?" I saw him walk a little ways forward.
"Wh-What are you talking about? I'm not crying. Guys don't cry. You know...they just...don't." I stood up and flushed the toilet to make it sound as though I had been using it. Wiping as much of the redness as I could out of my probably puffy eyes, I opened the door to the stall. Gerard stood solemnly there, just looking at me. He raised his eyebrows. I cleared my throat awkwardly and stepped over to the sinks to unnecessarily wash my hands.
"You're full of shit...Now seriously...what's wrong?" He crossed his arms and stood behind me. I could see his face in the mirror. It was concerned, but stone hard since he knew I was lying my face off. I tried to speak.
"I-I don't know...I guess I'm just having a bad day. I cant...I can't get anything under control." I bit my lip because my eyes were starting to sting again. If I cried now, Gerard would either think I was some sort of pussy, or realize that something out of the ordinary was up. But even when one tear slipped out, his facial expression only showed deeper concern. "Really, Gerard, you shouldn't worry about me." I gave a weak smile, but felt my lips itching to slide down into a deep frown. I fought it off.
He stepped in front of the exit and planted himself firmly there. "Mason, you're not getting out of this bathroom until you tell me what the hell is going on. You don't seem like an easy crier, so what on earth happened?" I looked down at my feet. Did I really want this? He was giving me an opportunity to just tell him everything. To get this burden off of my chest. Maybe he could even offer advice. Maybe he'd take it just like Mikey had. Surprised, but too interested in the situation to do anything serious about it. "Mason, it's okay. I've cried before when something's gone wrong. And I'm not ashamed to admit it."
There he went again with that trustful manner of his. It was impossible not to feel comfortable around him. Not to feel like you could tell him absolutely anything, and he wouldn't judge. Those hazel eyes held nothing in their depths but compassion, loyalty, and an honorable soul. And he had just given me the perfect opportunity. "I...I..Well it's hard to explain..." I stuttered over the words, but he waited patiently, prepared to look past my stuttering issue. I started to scrape a bit of dried toothpaste off of the sink as I became nervous. There was nothing in here to organize. "I...Well, you see...my..." He looked at me expectantly. I took a deep breath. "Uh...my grandma died." I blurted out.
I caved. It was too nerve wrecking to spill the beans. I couldn't stand to take the chance that he might not trust me anymore. But then again...I had just lied about my grandma dying. An expression of such sympathy took over Gerard's features, that I could actually feel it coming off of him in waves. "I...just found out about it..." I continued, cringing inside. He walked slowly over to me and then put a hand on my shoulder. He patted it, and I felt my heart skip a beat, like in every cliche book describing it.
"Jeese...I'm really sorry. I had no idea." He said, looking apologetic that he had pushed me to tell him what was wrong. Of course, I felt nothing but guilt.
"It's...It's okay, really. You couldnt've known." I looked around nervously, praying for something to happen that would stop this little conversation. Make sure it was never brought up again. Maybe if I knocked him out hard enough...I eyed him curiously, wondering how hard exactly I would have to hit him to iduce amnesia.
"No, it's not okay. But, if if makes you feel any better, I know how you feel. My grandmother passed away a couple months ago, too. The woman practically raised me and Mikey. She was amazing. Taught me everything I know. And now she's just...gone. Its an awful feeling isn't it?" I felt my eyes go wide. His grandma had passed away? Oh god, I was going to hell...
"Er...yeah...it's awful." I said sheepishly, trying to look into his sympathetic eyes without feeling the burn of guilt. He patted my shoulder again and then stepped back.
"Hey listen...you can come back to my room for a little bit if you want, man. We could watch Dawn of the Dead or something. Nothing like a good zombie movie to cheer you up." He smiled, and my insides melted. I felt a goofy grin trying to work it's way onto my face. I supressed it, not wanting to make Gerard think I was intoxicated or something.
"Yeah, alright...Dude...yeah. Gore and...guns. Whoo!" I fist pumped and he looked at me a little skeptically before chuckling.
"Well, you recover fast. Come on...I've got microwave popcorn and everything."
"AHHHHHH!" The laptop blared out with a wild scream, followed by the pop of gun fire as the woman on screen ran from her undead attackers. I was sitting on the floor, my back leaning against Gerard's bed, the laptop in between us as we crunched on a bag of buttery popcorn hot from the microwave in the office. Clarette had been nice enough to let us use it for our gluttonous needs. I glanced at the clock on the bedside table to my right, catching that it was 7:20 p.m.
I yawned slightly, feeling exauhsted. It had been a long day. Gerard glanced away from the movie to catch me in mid yawn. He raised his eyebrows. "Dude, are you tired ALREADY? It's only like... 7:00 at night." I shrugged my shoulders and stifled another yawn. "Wow...I'm not even...even...close to being...tired." But his sentence was interrupted several times by a long, stretching yawn. I snorted.
"Right...you seem WIDE awake." I shoved another handful of popcorn into my mouth and turned my attention back to the movie. We were just over an hour into it, and it was beginning to get suspensful and action-filled. Of course, I would pick now to start getting tired.
As the movie wore on and started entering into the final, climaxing fight scenes, filled with gore, and chainsaws, and machine guns; I could feel my eyes starting to droop. Not even the fact that they were beginning to drop grenades into the sea of zombies could keep my attention. I leaned my head back against the rim of the bed, and turned my eyes to Gerard. He had slumped over to the side, his face smushed against the bedpost. From the looks of him, and his deep breathing, he had been asleep for a little while now.
I chuckled under my breath to myself, and looked up at the cieling of the bunk. "Oh, if you only knew..." I muttered.
"If I only knew what?" My eyes went wide. Gerard had replied in a sleepy murmur, not even bothering to open his eyes. He only twitched a little bit. I yawned again.
"Nothing, Gerard...nothing at all..." And he dozed off again, his face smoothing out, looking almost childlike again. I smiled weakly and let my eyes slide shut before drifting off, myself.
Clunk, Clunk, Clunk, Clunk. My eyes ripped open, and I found that I had my face pressed up against something bony, oddly shaped, and warm. Pulling my face away slowly from the foreign surface, I discovered it to be Gerard's leg. A small spot that my moist breath had formed on the pant leg still shone. I wiped my eyes sleepily and glanced up at him, feeling more than a little bit embarrassed that I had slumped over onto him.
Thankfully, he remained fast asleep, his face still smushed into the bedpost like it had been when I had dozed off. The laptop had started to replay the movie, the volume muted. I sleepily groped out and switched it off, causing the room to go pitch black. Only the bright red numbers on the alarm clock shone in the darkness. It was quarter past three in the morning. I almost laughed to myself.
But then I remembered what had awoken me in the first place. That clunking sound of hurried footsteps going down the hall. At three in the morning? Something had to be up... I carefully slid away from Gerard, trying desperately not to wake him, and then tiptoed to the door. The lights were still bright in the hallway, left on for weary stragglers who dared venture to the bathroom in the middle of the night. "Duh, Blair..." I murmured to myself. "That's probably just what it was. Some poor guy on his way to the bathroom."
Nevertheless, curiosity got the better of me, and I slipped out of the room, careful to make as little noise as possible. There was no one in sight down the stretch of hall, but I thought I heard something coming from the bathroom. Not being able to just leave it alone like I probably should have, I started to creep towards the door.
I poked my head around the corner and saw a blonde figure leaning over the sink, his head down, hiding his face. He was making small sniffling noises and wiping furiously at his concealed eyes. I opened my mouth to say something, and then they looked up. I clamped my mouth right back shut again. Eric spotted me in the mirror, my head poking around the corner, and whipped around, clearly irritated beyond reason. "What are you doing in here? Spying on me? Plotting your next little prank?"
His words surprised me a little bit, but I stepped fully into the room, refusing to be afraid of anything he might decide to do to me. "I could ask you the same question. I mean...it's three in the morning, and here you are...crying in the bathroom. If you ask me, it seems a little...middle-school drama, wouldn't you say?" I pointed out matter-of-factly. My words seemed to pull some nerve in Eric, because his eyes narrowed to slits and he looked just about ready to growl at me.
"I'm not crying..." he snarled, "I was just washing my face off, that's all. And even if I was...It's not like it's any of your fucking business." His hands clenched into fists, but I stayed where I was, unphased.
"Well...language like that so early in the morning? Someone must have really pissed you off. Perhaps someone unleashed a hoarde of angry bats on you earlier this morning?" I grinned in a falsly clueless manner, knowing it was stupid to egg him on but not really caring. He marched forward to me, curled his angry hands around my shoulders and slammed my back against the wall. HARD.
"You don't know the half of it, asshole. So just shut your fucking mouth, got it?" All traces of tears had dispersed from his now furious expression. Right up close to my own pained one. This whole smashing-my-back-into-walls thing was getting old. And painfull... By the time I was done at this place I would need a chiropractor. He held me there, breathing fiercly and in short bursts. And then I spotted something unusual.
"Eric...why do you have bruises all over your neck?" I asked, genuinely confused. Who on Earth could've given him bruises like that here? There hadn't been anything on his neck this morning from what I could remember...But now...his neck slightly resembled that of a spotted cat's. Purpling marks were embedded into his skin all over. I also noticed that his left eye looked a little more swollen. Slightly tinging towards a bruise color. Was he getting a black eye?
He abruptly pulled away and ran to examine his neck in the mirror, as though unaware that he had anything there. He looked on in horror as he studied the marks, and I could see fresh tears welling up in his eyes. I could've easily made a comment about the situation, but something in his expression held me back. There was terror burried in his eyes. Uncomprehension of something awful. Despite who it was, I still found myself a little bit concerned. "Eric...what happened to you?"
There was a moment of silence in the bathroom like no other. I waited patiently for him to say something...anything...But he kept his mouth shut firmly. I stepped towards him. He cringed away when he saw my advance. "What's going on?" He wiped his eyes again.
"W-Why would you care? It doesn't even matter to you..."
"Eric, I know I'm not exactly your favorite person; and believe me...you're not mine either. But...that doesn't mean that I have the right to not care if something bad happened. And from the looks of your eyes...something has." A tentative silence ensued this time. I could see the words burdening the tip of his tongue. Just waiting for an opportunity to release themselves on the world. Believe me...I knew the feeling of having to keep something to myself.
"It's disgusting..." he finally muttered. "It's sick." I crept forward in interest as he cast his blue eyes to the floor.
"What is?" I had a burning desire to know what was up now. Something told me it was messy. A part of me didn't want to know.
"What he does to get the money..." His voice trailed off, but I could tell he wanted to say more.
"Who's 'HE'?" I had a pretty good idea of who exactly 'HE' was, but I almost didn't want to believe it. I could feel something growing in the pit of my stomach. A sort of feeling that I knew what was coming, but it was just too awful to accept.
"The Headmaster. Kirk...He's disgusting. I-He...he does terrible things just to get some money to pay for this place...I wouldn't-I don't even know what to say." My mind flashed back to that one night when we were waiting for our detention. Eric had hurried out of Kirk's office as quickly as he could, for once not even bothering to give me a hateful look. And there was that shine to his eyes. Like he had been crying.
"That one night when we were waiting in the office..." I didn't need to say any more. He knew what I was talking about. Obviously, it was burned into his memory. Though by what, I wasn't completely sure. And I was even more unsure that I wanted to find out.
"Yeah...That was the first time..." I gulped. Did I dare ask the question? Did I dare figure out what was going on for sure? I could leave it at this. Ask to hear no more. Go back to Gerard's room and curl up next to him. Besides...why did Eric deserve my help? He was the cause for more than half the trouble that I'd faced here. But then again...I hadn't exactly not retaliated in my own way.
"Eric...what did he do to you?"
The question hung in the air like a hook with bait on it. Waiting to catch a shred of what was going on. Alluring and intimidating at the same time. "He called me to his office that night..." Eric began, not looking at me, but studying something on the tiled wall behind me. "Told me to sit down and gave me a cup of tea. I don't like tea much, but I drank a little bit to be polite." His eyes started to go distant, and I could see the terror building in his expression. He was remembering something vividly awful.
"He talked to me for a little bit. Just mostly about school stuff...grades, what I planned to do once I left St. James... And then I noticed the video camera set up in the corner of the room ontop of the file cabinet. And I knew something was up..." I cringed. I wanted to tell him to not say anymore, I didn't want to hear it. But he went on in a dead voice. "I asked him what it was, and he didn't really say anything related to it. I knew I had to leave, so I excused myself. But I started to feel woozy, and my legs weren't working quite the way they should've been. I felt like jello.
"So there I was...slumped on the floor, unable to move, my vision blacking in and out. The last thing I remembered was him locking the door, and me realizing that he must've slipped something into the tea." There was a long, drawn out pause and I could see that his eyes were all watery again. I could feel my own starting to moisten. "And then I woke up in my room without my shoes, tie, or jacket on. And that was that..." He wiped his eyes and turned away. I felt my stomach churning, because I was so sickened by the realization.
I scrambled into a stall, threw the lid of the toilet up, and proceeded to empty the contents of my stomach into the bowl. I'm not normally someone who has a weak stomach. I mean really...I can go on all the rides at amusement parks on a stomach filled with a Chili-Cheese-Dog, doritios, and a funnel cake without even getting nauseated. But this? This was just disturbing. When I finally clamored back out, Eric was sitting on the floor with his head on his knees, like a small child. "Eric..." I said tentatively. He looked up to show that he was listening, but gave no verbal acknowlegment.
"Did this happen tonight?" He shook his head yes and rubbed at the bruises on his neck. I sighed heavily. "Eric why didn't you say anything about it? Why didn't you tell someone?" He shrugged his shoulders, and I could tell that he had no good excuse that he was willing to share.
And then I thought about something. Maggie's little money idea. Maybe Kirk hadn't been paying that guy she had seen in her dad's bank. Maybe it had been the other way around. The guy paying him instead. If I was understanding this correctly, then Kirk was selling videotapes of whatever he did to these poor kids so that he could get money to pay off his debts. I supressed the urge to vomit again. "Eric, we need to tell the police about this. It has to stop. Is there any evidence besides the bruises on your neck?" I had spent many a school night staying up well into the night to watch CSI Miami. I liked to think that I knew the procedure pretty well.
He shook his head at first, but then paused to think. "Well...I think he might maybe keep some copies of the...tapes... in his office somewhere. I'm not exactly sure of the specifics, but..." I nodded. What we needed was evidence against this sick bastard. Something that would get him handed over to the cops no problem. And a copy of the videotapes would do just that.
"Alright...tell you what. You head back to your room, and I'll go down and check out the office and see if I can find anything." Eric agreed as I started to leave. He stopped me by saying:
"Mason...why the hell are you doing all this for me? I thought I was a dick or something?" I grinned.
"Oh, don't worry, you are." He looked stunned by my blunt honesty. "But you're also a human being. And...dick, or not...no one deserves to be treated like this." I started to walk again, but stopped and turned to face him once more. "Oh...and I AM sorry about the prank earlier this morning." He nodded, and I could see a TINY hint of understanding in his eyes.
I backed out of the room with my hands concealed behind me so that he couldn't see that I had been crossing my fingers. Like hell I would be sorry for a prank of such epic proportions!
"Na na nana, na na nana... na nuh na nuh nana!" I hummed the tune to Mission Impossible under my breath as I slunk down the stairs that led to the Great Hall. It was pitch black and deserted, giving it a creepy vibe. But I went along, unphased, on my quest. I jumped the last three steps, hoping to land ninja style on the ground, but managing to get off balance and fall face forward, smashing into the floor with such a racket, I thought it would wake the whole school.
I hopped up and looked around, almost expecting someone to be there to see my embarassment. But the hall was as empty as it had been before I had nearly pancaked myself on the floor. I continued on my way, praying that by some miracle, the office door would be unlocked. And fortunately, it was. Peeking in, I saw Clarette's cluttered desk at first before opening the door to reveal the whole inner room. I slipped inside, shut the door as quietly as possible, and then flicked on the lights.
I was momentarily blinded by the brightness, but through my squinty eyes, I could see Kirk's office door, shut firmly. I again prayed for a miracle about this door, but I proved that my luck was short notice. The door was locked securely. "Shit..." I muttered to myself, allowing my eyes to adjust to the change in light. I would have to hunt down a key. "Now...if I was a possible child molestor, where would I keep the key to my office?" I muttered absently to myself. I shifted through some papers on Clarette's desk, and then opened the drawers. They were jammed full of office supplies, but no key of any sort was in sight.
I was beginning to think that he had taken it home and didn't have another copy, when I knocked over a picture frame on the desk. "Aha!" I exclaimed before clapping a hand to my own mouth to stop myself from shouting out any more. Taped to the back of the frame, was a silver key that matched the silver handle of Kirk's office door. I ripped it from it's hiding spot, propped the picture back up where I had found it, and then hurried over to unlock the door.
The key slid in and turned with ease, allowing me to push the door open and flip the light switch. Kirk's office was as spotless and bland as ever. Not a single thing had changed since me and Gerard had last been here, except for that he had left his laptop on his desk. I thought back to Gerard upstairs in his room, sleeping soundly. And I started to smile. There was something about that boy... "Snap out of it, Blair...you have work to do." I reminded myself promptly as soon as my thoughts started to wander too far off track. I shook my head and padded over to the file cabinet where Eric had said that a camera had once been. I opened all the files and sifted through them, discovering nothing more interesting than an order for a few dozen jock straps for the intramural soccer team the school had formed several years ago. Apparently, the idea never took off.
I shoved the cabinet closed and made my way over to the desk. I started to reach for the top drawer on the right before remembering my little surprise last time. I skipped over that one and flung open the one below it. Nothing but a bottle of asprin and the wrapper for a Reese's Cup. The one below that was just about as informative, containing a wide array of office supplies, but no illegal porn. All of the other drawers checked out as well. I sighed, thouroughly frustrated. He had to have something SOMEWHERE. That first drawer was staring me down like it knew something I didn't. I groaned. "Okay...but only for the sake of getting that douche arrested." And I flung open the drawer.
That disgusting vibrator was still there. I grabbed it gingerly, using a kleenex from the box in one of his drawers, and flung it into the trashcan. Below it was an oddly shaped object that I wanted nothing to with either, so I tossed that too. "Well...what's this?" I picked up what looked to be a DVD case and flipped it open, hoping that it would be the evidence we needed, but also half not wanting it to be as well. It turned out only to be a copy of some Carmen Electra workout. I chuckled to myself, but remained frustrated with my lack of findings. The rest of the drawer was empty. "Oh come on..." I said exasperatedly. I shoved the Carmen Electra DVD back into the drawer with force. And then I heard something click.
Confused, I poked my head into the drawer to see what had happened, and saw that the back of the drawer was pushed up, revealing blackness beyond it. "I don't believe it." I said, "It was a false back." I pushed it in fully, and reached my hand into the depths. It brushed several thin, square objects and I eventually pulled one out. I was a DVD alright. Labeled with the name Dean Mueller. I took a deep breath, and turned his laptop on, preparing to see what it was. I slipped it in and waited for it to start playing, watching through my fingers because I didn't want to see anything. Suddenly, it was showing Kirk's office. He was seated behind his desk, and there was a boy I didn't recognize sitting in the chair. I could only see the back of his head.
He started to get up in kind of a hurry, but he started to sway, and then crumpled to the floor. I noticed a cup of tea on the desk and barred my teeth. Kirk grinned and got up from the seat. He left the view of the camera for a minute, probably to lock the door, and then came back. Bending down towards the boy, he started to pull him up and heaved him into a chair. He talked for a minute, and then reached out to grab the boy's tie, starting to undo it.
The laptop lid slammed shut. I gasped, and nearly fell over backwards. A stern looking Kirk was towering in front of me, his arms crossed. I gulped. "And just what do you think you're doing, Mr. Foster?" I backed up and started to stammer out excuses. He was a rapist or something. This was obviously not a safe environment. I needed to get out as fast as possible.
"Nothing...just...I-" There was no excuse in the world that would explain why I was sitting in his office, watching his laptop at half past three in the morning. Other than that I had found out his secret. This was NOT going to be good.
"Snooping around in my desk, I see?" He opened the laptop again, and ejected the DVD, placing it carefully back into the clear plastic case I had discarded onto the desk. He studied it in his hands for a moment, and then looked back at me, grinning creepily. I pressed my back into the wall. "Well, I see you've discovered my little secret. Yes...drugging and fooling around with school boys. Dirty, I know...But it sure rakes in the cash if you get it on video tape." He waggled the disc in the air, still smirking.
"You psycho son of a bitch." I said, darting towards the door. He grabbed me firmly by the arm, stronger than I had thought him to be, and threw me sideways into his desk. My side rammed into the corner, and I fell to the floor, clutching my middle and groaning. He heaved my up by my shoulders and whipped me around to face him.
"Yes...Dean Mueller was my first. And you know what Mason?" I gulped and started to struggle, despite the stabbing pain in my side. He held me steadfast and shoved me backwards. I landed on the desk and hit a jar of pens and pencils with a crunch. They were all stabbing my back at once. I let out a shrill yelp. "You're going to be my thirteenth." He sauntered forward and dragged me off the desk, forcing me to stand. He grabbed me around the neck and I gasped. Throwing me to the floor, he kicked me hard in the stomach and walked over to his desk.
He reached into the drawer with the false back and fished around until he pulled out a video camera. Since I was practically disabled at the moment, he calmly flicked it on and began to set it up on his desk. I started crawling as fast as I could towards the door, which he had forgotten to lock, but he caught me and pulled me up. "Now, now...just behave and it will be over soon. He dragged me all the way back to the desk and shoved me onto it, the surface pretty much clear since he had thrown me onto it last time. He clenched his hands to my shoulders and held me to the desk. I kicked and flailed, but the man was much stronger than he appeared to be.
And then it occured to me to scream. I opened my mouth, but the glint in my eyes must have alerted him, because before I could get a sound out, his hand was pressing down harshly on my throat, choking off the air. "Ah ah ah..." he waggled a finger at me, his face bright red and a slight sheen of sweat starting to form on his forhead. "Inside voices, please." He chuckled. I couldn't breath. Obviously, he was waiting for me to pass out. Probably so he could drug me. I dragged my hands up to his arm and tried to claw at them through his suit. He laughed heartily, it obviously having no effect through the thick fabric. "You fight like a girl." He said through gritted teeth, holding me even harder. I would have laughed if it had been under different circumstances.
My vision was starting to cloud black around the edges. I had to think fast. Unfortunately, I already was and I'm not very good at it. "Scream! No, that won't work. Kick, thrash, bite, claw, squirm!" None of my ideas were working. And then...I had one of those rare moments of brilliance. And, as it happens every time, it was almost too late. I dropped limp. I let all my limbs flop down onto the desk, and my eyes flutter closed. Playing possum...works everytime. I felt his had unclench from my aching throat, and sucked in a breath as calmly as I could, though it almost hurt. Kirk chuckled, and I head him digging in that drawer of his again. Now was my chance.
I flung my eyes open to see him bending over, facing away from me, shoulder deep in the big drawer. I lashed my foot out and struck him hard in the back with it. He jolted forward and tried to catch himself on the desk, but lost his grip and fell on his hands and knees. I didn't wait for him to recover like every girl does in the movies. Instead, I rolled off the desk and started to run as fast as I could towards the door, though I was a little dizzy. I made it to the doorway and almost jumped for joy, the feeling of relief was so strong. Surely once I got out of the office, someone would hear our grappling and come to the rescue.
But, I felt cruel arms wrap around my middle. I tipped over and suddenly I was lying on my stomach on the ground, Kirk's hands wrapped around my slim ankles. "Not getting away quite so easily, you little trickster. Naughty, naughty..." And he pulled me back into the room by my ankles, my fingernails clawing at the carpet and trying to pull myself forward. When I was fully back in the room, he heaved me up and shoved me against a wall. I started thrashing wildly again, but I was just so weak. I have no muscle whatsoever! He forced my chin up, and squeezed my jaw open. Then he dumped the contents of a tiny green bottle into my gaping mouth, and clamped it shut and pinched my nose so that I would be forced to swallow.
It tasted bitter and left a horrible aftertaste once it went down. I felt the effects immediately. Swaying, legs like jello, droopy eyes and the feeling of drifting away. He caught me as I started to tip over towards the ground and held me up, starting to drag me back towards the desk. Unable to do anything, and blacking out, I began to cry. And then everything fizzed out.
I could hear muffled voices, but I couldn't tell what they were saying. All the noises were blending into a dull sort of thrum, and I could feel the vibrations through the floor. I tried to drag my eyelids open, but only managed to get a flash of bright, white lights before they slipped closed again. I felt hands on my shoulders now, and tried to roll towards them. Now I could hear a louder voice, and make out what it was saying.
"Woah...easy there. It's okay. Mas-I mean Blair...can you hear me? Blair?" And now a face was coming into view. A pair of dorky glasses loomed in my sight.
"Mikey?" I muttered, confused. The figure stood up.
"Yeah, it's me...How're ya doing?" I blinked a couple of times, and the room was suddenly clear as crystal. It was undoubtedly a hospital room. It had that strange tart demeanor about it that doesn't reside anywhere else. A glass of water was suddenly in front of me. I looked up to Frankie, holding it out. My eyebrows raised. His eyes narrowed.
"Hesphalumtidus Syndrome Disease?" he said pointedly. I looked down at my feet sheepishly. "What a crock of shit." He set the glass down on a bedside table and laughed dryly. "That is by far the stupidist thing I have ever fallen for. Besides when I was eight and I asked my mom where babies came from. She said Ebay, and I went on the next day and tried to buy myself a baby brother." He chuckled and sank down into a chair. The others were there as well. Ray was leaning stoicly against the wall, Bob was sitting down with an expression of shock on his face. Even T.J. was perched nervously on the arm of a chair. Gerard was nowhere in sight.
"So...I'm guessing everybody knows then?" I said, sighing. Looking down at myself, I realized that I was clad in one of those breezy hospital gowns and my underwear. I wrapped the sheets tighter around my torso.
"Well...if you're talking about the fact that you're a girl, then yeah...we might've heard a little bit about that. But...if you have some other big secret, we have no clue." Frank rattled off sarcastically. He didn't really seem mad about this, just more trying to make as light of it as he possibly could. I knew that inside he was having a spaz attack. The others seemed to be having remotely the same reaction. Bob looked completely out of it, though. Like a five year old that had just been told Santa wasn't real. T.J. seemed to be trying to stay out of the drama as much as possible. He looked shifty. And of course...Ray was cool as a cucumber as always.
" Yeah...about that..." I murmured, not really sure where to begin. Ray piped up to save me the trouble.
"It's alright, Mikey already filled us in on the gory details. You came here as a favor to a friend so she could get an article for the paper. Must be one hell of a friend if you're willing to go through all this for her." I grinned widely.
"Yeah...she's something alright. Bob, are you okay?" He was still staring at me with that same wide-eyed expression. Something told me he wasn't quite able to wrap his head around the revelation.
"I-I can't believe you have boobs. All this time...you've had boobs, and I never even noticed. You think I would notice if one of my friends had boobs!" We all stared at him, and the room fell silent.
"Awkward!" Frankie said to break the silence. We all laughed tentatively. I looked around the room, and once again noticed the one major abscence.
"Where's Gerard?" I asked. Everyone was instantly silent again. Uh oh...that couldn't be good... "Guys?" I pressed.
"He's...um...I think he's down in the lobby right now, hunting for some coffee." Mikey said, trying to sound nonchalant. I glared at him. "Well...I mean, he saved you and all. I think he just needs a break at the moment." My eyes went wide. I had almost completely forgotten about why I was hear in the first place. I gasped.
"Oh my god! He got to me in time, right? Kirk didn't-He didn't!" I felt like I was about to start hyperventilating. They all shook their heads. I let out a great sigh of relief. "Thank Ghandi! What happened to him anyways? Please tell me that pervert is sitting in jail tonight." Frankie grinned.
"Oh you betcha...police found his little stash and everything. The whole school's talking about it, and two more kids came forward and said they'd been violated by him. Ha! What an asswipe!" This instilled a little peace in my heart. Justice had been served. And Maggie would get her scoop alright. Everything had pretty much gone as planned. (Except that I had almost gotten raped, and everyone found out my secret...) So why did something feel off. Why was there a piece of the puzzle missing.
"I'm sorry, you guys!" I suddenly blurted. "I really didn't mean for anything to go this far. I was just supposed to get in, do my job and get out. I was never supposed to get all buddy-buddy with anybody. But...But you guys were all so awesome, and I-I feel terrible, but this has been one of the best weeks of my life. And I know I lied to you, and you'll probably never trust me, but thank you guys for being such good friends. I don't deserve it." I looked down at my bare feet again, protruding from under the sheets. They were cold and pale like the rest of me at the moment.
I looked up, and saw the group exchange a glance. There was a moment of tense silence, and suddenly...
"Aw...it's okay."
"Yeah, we had an awesome week too."
"Totally cool! But...I still can't believe you have boobs." We all laughed at this last comment, and it felt a bit like old times. But there was one thing missing.
"Hey, I'm gonna go find Gerard and say thanks, too." I grinned at the thought of seeing him again, and hopped off the bed. Then I noticed no one was grinning smiling or laughing anymore. I cast a puzzled glance around the room, confused by the abrupt change in environment. "What? What's wrong?" It looked to me like no one wanted to answer. I grew more confused.
"Umm..well, Gerard might not have taken it as...well...as we did." Mikey said hesitantly. I raised my eyebrows. "I mean...well...he didn't take it very well at all, actually." Oh...The sentence stuck with me. I felt it click into place. He was mad at me. That's what they were all trying so hard to sugar-coat.
"Well...I'm sure once I explain it all to him, he might feel a little better..." I said hopefully, looking anxiously around. I saw several of the guys bite their lips and exchange glances. "What? You don't think so?" I prodded. No one said anything. "Well...I guess I'll just have to wait and see then." And I stalked out of the room, determined that everything would work out fine. Because there had to be some justice in life...Didn't there?
He was sitting at a table, his back to me with a steaming cup of black coffee perched on the table and the local newspaper in front of him. I was in the lobby of the hospital with nothing on but the little hospital gown and my underwear. And frankly, I didn't really give a damn. People could stare all they wanted, but I had more important things on my mind than what random strangers were thinking about me. I walked up quietly to stand behind him. I got the feeling that he knew I was there, but didn't want to acknowlege it. He continued to pour over the paper. Since it was open to an article about refurbishing your house for less money, I highly doubted he was really reading.
"Hey..." I said awkwardly, he nodded, but that was the only indication I got that he had heard me. "So...planning on refurbishing the old dorm room anytime soon?" He didn't even remotely respond this time. I felt a tap on my shoulder. A tiny lady with a walker and big glasses was standing there.
"I think he might be deaf, sweetheart." she said informatively.
"Yeah, I wish..." I muttered, walking away to sit down in the chair on the other side of the small table. He didn't look up, but at least he didn't move away. I sat quietly, watching him stare blankly at the paper. Finally, his gaze met mine.
"So...it's true?" he said, not needing to specify. I bit my lip. He took that as a yes and nodded, looking more than a little put off. I sighed.
"Gerard...let me explain-"
"No...Mikey already explained everything to me. And you know what? It doesn't change a damn thing. You lied to me. You lied to all of us." He looked at me with a bitingly angry expression that made me recoil slightly. I didn't like to see all the anger in those hazel eyes.
"I-I know I did, and I'm sorry..." He laughed in the middle of my sentence. It caught me off guard, making me a little irritated with him. "Um...excuse me...nothing about this is funny. I'm making a sincere apology." He stood up abruptly.
"Oh...I'm sure you are. 'Cause...you're very sincere about everything else in life. I can't think of a single time when you haven't been completely and totally honest with me." The sarcasm stung, but I knew I deserved it. He started to walk away, leaving behind the coffee and paper. I got up too and hurried after him.
"Gerard, please wait! Please, just-" He whirled around. I backed up, startled.
"Just what?" he snapped. "Give you another chance? Why should I?" The question hung in the air for a minute before I got my vocal cords to work again.
"Because...because you're my friend, and I don't want you to leave like this." He dropped his hard expression for a minute, and his eyes looked almost saddened. But he quickly snapped out of it.
"I'm sorry...I don't know anyone named Blair. You must have me confused with someone else. I'm friends with a guy named Mason. Sorry..." And he turned and walked away. I watched him leave. This was it? Everything for this? I sunk down to sit on the edge of a conviniently placed sofa.
"What's wrong with him?" It was the tiny old woman that had spoken to me before. She was sitting comfortably on the couch. I looked down at her.
"Oh...some girl dressed up as a guy and fooled him and a bunch of his friends into thinking she was actually a boy. Acted like his friend the whole time, and never told him anything. Just used him to help her get an artical for a newspaper." I said lightly...
"Ouch..." the woman said, "What a bitch."
"Yeah...tell me about it..."
A/N: Jeese...with all the time it took me to write this chapter, you'd think I converted to become Amish or something, and can't use the computer anymore. (Just to clarify, that did not happen). No, I've just been extremely busy with school and such. I'm sure you'll all get over it. I hope you enjoyed, because I did actually spend alot of time on this.
Next chapter's the final chapter, ladies and gents, and transgenders! So prepare youselves, children! Until then...over and out! (I've always wanted to say that. Over and out...haha)