It took until about two in the morning before he shut the fuck up.
He was practically falling asleep as he talked, his head fucking dropping every few words while he held onto my pillow. Before there were any rumors about Petey sleeping over in my room—'cause that's the shit I needed right now in my life—I carefully pushed him out the door. Nearly forgot to grab my pillow back from him.
I waited until I was sure that he was in his room before leaving campus. I was betting on the fact that he was too tired to come back and 'check' if I was in my room. I got to the asylum by three. That gave me about three hours before the orderlies did their morning rounds, and I never stayed that long.
At least it was Saturday, so I could finally get some sleep when I got back in.
Gary was sitting up on his bed, his legs crossed Indian-style and his head back on the wall. His eyes were opening, slowly, but he'd definitely been asleep. Sitting up…Gary Smith had fallen asleep waiting for me.
I couldn't help it. I smirked. "Morning." Gary couldn't cover the fact that he'd been trying to wake up, there was no way in hell. Thanks to Petey, I'd caught Gary off guard. If I didn't want to kill Petey, I'd feel like thanking him right now.
"Long day at work, honey?" Of course Gary had a smart remark when he was half asleep. I wondered where he kept his group of writers. "Half expected to find out you were out with the boys, cheating on me. You weren't cheating on me, were you, Jimmyboy?"
I snorted. It's sick that, in about a week, I'd gotten used to his faggoty joking shit. I mean, it still creeped me the fuck out—especially when he felt like he had to get up close and personal about it—but I didn't need to beat the shit out of him because of it. Yet. "Petey busted me on the way out."
Gary fucking hooted. "Petey? My little Petey caught you coming to see me?" I'm sure that he was ecstatic." I stared. Gary sighed. "Ecstatic. Excited. Really, really happy."
I shook my head. "Whatever. He…"
"Freaked out? Had a conniption? Cried like a little bitch? Made high-pitched little noises that you could only hear because you're a fucking dog?" Gary stretched, yawning, and I couldn't remember ever seeing him do that for any other reason other than being bored. He stood up, running a hand through his hair.
"Something like that. He completely freaked, and now thinks I want to help you escape."
Gary fake-pouted. "What, you're not? Shit, there goes my dastardly little plan. And I was relying on the fact that one day you'd show signs of my ADD and hop over here on your bike in the middle of the night and come to visit me."
I glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "And then what was the next part of your genius plan?"
"Clearly, your lust for my body would melt your reserve and you'd rush to my aid like my knight in shining armor. Come on, Hopkins, pay attention. I've been pretty clear about this from the beginning." I laughed with another shake of my head. Gary's smile grew. "Oh, so Jimmy Hopkins can laugh, I'm shocked and surprised, honestly."
"Fucking stuff it."
"Where?" I glared at him. He was not as clever as he thought he was. He raised his hands. "Hey, hey, just making conversation, no need to get angry…what else did femmeboy say? I'm curious."
Of course he was curious. Gary died whenever he didn't know how big a shit someone took in China. "He just talked." Well, he always liked fucking with my head. All I had to do to fuck with his was shut the hell up.
I walked past Gary, ignoring the expression on his face that said he was waiting for me to say anything more. I sat on the floor, taking off my sneakers and tossing them into the corner. Gary turned to face me, looking confused. I glanced up at him from my seat and shrugged. "What?"
"What did Petey say?"
"Like I fucking memorized what he said?" I shrugged.
"He kept you busy most of the night, so I want to know what he said." Gary crossed his arms over his chest impatiently. He was tapping his foot. There was a drop of giddy there. Fuck. That's what I needed to top off my day.
Dodgeball. Petey. Two in the fucking morning. Now Gary was starting to twitch.
Wonderful.
He continued. "Did he shit himself? Did he weep snotty tears all over your bedroom?" I didn't answer. "Jimmy, come on, I know you don't come over here to sit in silence. I assume you wanted to talk to me."
I rolled my eyes. "Bullworth will fall apart if I leave for a few hours."
Gary considered this, throwing me one of his weird looks. I wanted to say it looked jealous, because, I mean, the way Petey talked, I was exactly what Gary had wanted to be. And hell, when I thought about it, I knew that I was. I didn't want to be—king for a day was fun, but seriously? I couldn't breathe at that damned academy without someone trying to crawl up my ass and beg me for a favor.
I wasn't saying that Gary could have my place, fuck that. If it was a choice between me and him, I'd take the fucking crown. I just didn't think that there needed to be a king period.
"Oh, poor, poor Bullworth…" Gary fucking tsked, shaking his head disapprovingly. "So weak and fragile, can't even wobble on its own feet without the hand of James Hopkins guiding it—near-blindly—into the nearest wall."
"Better a wall than a fucking cliff," I pointed out snappishly.
Gary smirked. He didn't look sorry. "I had fun watching it drop."
"It didn't drop."
"Nope, its grunting monkeyboy came to its rescue." He sat down on his bed. "In a big fight to the death. How big did your head swell after that?"
"Nearly as big as yours."
Gary raised an eyebrow at me and gave me the same look he'd given me after I'd punched him. "Nothing on you that I've seen so far is as big as mine."
"You insult the way I saved Bullworth from your ass, then you call me a freaking monkey, and now you're making sex jokes." The guy couldn't make up his mind. Did he hate me? Want to be a fag about me? Kill me when he drugs me? Rape me when he drugs me?
"Good. You can remember how the conversation went, I'm so proud. The way things are going, you'll be able to count to twenty in no time, you smart little boy you." Gary started using his fists to pound out a little beat on his knees. "That's really pretty fucking exciting from you."
"No, which the fuck is it?"
"Which the fuck is which, Jimmy honey?"
"Do you hate me or what?"
Gary stared at me, like he couldn't believe what I'd just said. "Of course I hate you, James."
That wasn't what I expected, exactly. Don't know what I expected, but it wasn't…huh. I was speechless. And Gary noticed.
"What?" He laughed. "Of course I hate you, you lousy excuse for a functioning biped. Why wouldn't I hate you?"
He stood up, and started to pace. It jarred me enough that I stood back up. He was stalking around, in this half circle around me. "Every time I see you I considered homicide, but then I remember that the only thing you beat me in is sheer physicality. I fucking despise you, you stupid sack of shit. You're a brute, and that disgusts me on levels I can't even begin to describe. I hate you more than I hate Crabblesnitch, more than I hate the fucking preps, the nerds, those lunkhead Greasers—fuck, I hate you more than I hate all of Bullworth. If I had a choice between watching that place burn and putting your head on a pike, I'm not gonna lie to you right now, Hopkins, I don't know which one I'd pick."
He was too close to me, and my skin started crawling all over again. Now I was as twitchy as he was, except I was halfway certain that he was going to pull something. He stopped, staring down at me. I tensed, and took a deep breath. "So? Why say the shit you've been saying then?"
Gary chuckled. "What 'shit' are you referring to…Jimmy?" Just Jimmy. That bothered me more than any of the insults he'd been spewing.
"The-the- the sex shit. Acting like you wanted me to keep coming here."
"I just love the fact you keep showing up here, against your better judgment."
"So about the sex shit?"
Gary tilted his head. "So you're interested in the sex shit?"
"No!" I snapped. Not letting him get any fucking ideas like that. "I want to know why you keep fucking talking about it."
Gary licked his lips and looked way too similar to the way that he looked up on the roof when I kicked his ass. It wasn't any less unnerving now that I'd seen it before. "Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy…hating you is way more exciting than anything at Bullworth."
"Huh?"
"James Hopkins, you're fucking fascinating. You're this insipid little troll that just crawled under my skin like Petey under a bed during a thunderstorm. You invaded Bullworth—my Bullworth—and turned it all right side up, after I spent so much time fucking it all up! I thought that'd take skill, intelligence, brains, sex appeal—at least some fucking observational skills."
He was continuing to look me up and down, and I wanted to move, push him away. But he wasn't doing anything, and really, he was fucking caged in here all day, and I know he wasn't talking to any of the doctors in this place. Now that the chaos was done, and he was locked up, I wanted to know what the fuck went on in that black hole inside his head.
He stepped back, looking at me like he was studying me for biology. "Do you realize what that does to a person?"
"A person like you?" I replied. "Pisses you off. Drives you more off your fucking rocker than you already were."
Gary laughed, this head back, hyena fucking cackle. "Yeah, yeah, Jimmyboy, it pissed me off. Pissed me off and drove me fucking crazy." Too late for that, but whatever. "Do you realize how much of a thrill fucking with you was? Is?" He let this little exaggerated shiver go through his body. "God, it was better than sex."
"You sure about that?" Wouldn't that have meant Gary let someone near him, at some point?
Gary licked his lips a second time, running a hand through his hair. "Oh, I'm damned fucking sure. Watching you pissed and scrambling and putting things together while you tear my shit apart…fuck, Jimmy, watching you struggle with fighting Russell that time in the basement was like fucking poetry—you ever read any poetry, Jimmy?"
I shook my head. "Fuck off, Gary, get to the point."
"Hating you is better than sex, what else do I need to say?" Gary shrugged. "Could you imagine had you not fucking turned on me and started doing shit behind my back? Fucking piece of art that would have been." I didn't remember it like that, but whatever worked for him. He dropped back on the bed, leaning back like he was ready for a cigarette. Could half believe he was.
"You're not getting out of here anytime soon."
"Why would I want to?" Gary asked. "If I was out of this shithole, you'd run off and hide in a dark corner."
I grimaced. "I wouldn't fucking hide from anything, least of all you, you sick freak."
Gary grinned at me. "You're hiding this from everybody. Everybody but Petey, that is."
"I'm not hiding this, it's just none of their damned business."
"You're a shit liar. You couldn't even make something up to fool that little queenette Petey, and he's more gullible than Crabblesnitch." He propped himself up on one elbow so he could peer at the nails on his other hand lazily.
"Petey's worried you're trying to play me, and right now, I'm remembering why."
Gary snorted. "Please. Little Patricia's just jealous you're here instead of waiting at home for her. You consider that maybe Petey freaked because you're not paying enough attention to the wife—" Gary held up his hand as if to keep me from speaking. "Or, or, or wait—maybe you let him play husband. I can see it now—Petey, waiting in bed for you, cradling the pillow like it's your child, wondering when his beefy man midget is gonna drag himself out of the sludge and make it home."
"Shut up." I was sick of Gary's jokes about Petey, if only because they weren't really jokes. I fucking cracked jokes about Petey, everyone did, but Gary fucking dripped with the need to squash him. Like Gary needed to squash everyone.
Me especially, apparently.
"Did he start to sniffle when he got worried?" Gary said. "He was always a fucking sniffler. Boogers everywhere, it was a mess."
"Drop the Petey bit, Gary."
"Why, are you the only one that can say shit about him now? I mean, we were having a good laugh about him before. Are you acting jealous about him now?" Gary sighed. "Don't worry about it, Jimmy, my good friend, I'm done with him. He's not that great—but he knows enough to be interesting for a minute."
Wait.
What.
The.
Fuck.
Petey?
"You sick fuck. You're bullshitting." I moved in closer, because it felt weird as fuck to be on the other side of the cell when talking about Petey like this, even when the cell was so small.
"You don't think I call him the dorm mascot and femmeboy just because he's cute when he blushes, do you?" Gary laughed. "Fuck, Jimmy, you're idiocy never fails to astound me. He's the mascot because he's just chock full of school spirit. All. Day. Long." The last words were punctuated with hand movements stolen from a crazy conductor, sweeping across the air too dramatically.
I shook my head. "You're full of crap."
"I'm not full of anything."
"You say another word about Petey—"
"—and you'll what, exactly?" Gary looked unimpressed.
I realized how close I was to him. Close enough that when he grabbed me by my shirt and yanked me down I didn't see it coming. Close enough where I didn't have time to react when he flipped me over. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Gary Smith was hovering over me, straddling me. "Relax, Jimmy, I'm not gonna hurt you." He chuckled under his breath. "Yeah, you beat me in strength, but I will always be faster and smarter than you. You won once—big whoop, all that did for either of us is make it so we can't stop thinking about each other."
"Fuck you," I grunted, shoving him back. He didn't stumble, but he did stand up, letting me sit. "I oughta fuckin—"
"Again with the threats!" He threw his hands up. "You can talk talk talk all you want, but Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, what you don't seem to get, seem to comprehend, is that whether I'm locked in here or running things out there, I'm still irrevocably attached to you, burned in your brain. You know this nightly visit shit is fucked up and stupid, but you still keep coming here. I fucking own you."
I jumped up, ready to fight. "You don't own shit. You don't even own the fucking drawstring on your pjs, Gary."
"Oh really?" Gary looked doubtful. "Allow me to fucking demonstrate." Looked ready to fight. Fine, if he wanted to fight, I could do that.
He was supposed to swing at me. Supposed to headbutt me, do something that I could fucking defend against. Something that I could retaliate with. Fucking fight me, for Jesus fuck's sake. Not swoop the fuck in and fucking lay a-a-a-
A fucking kiss on me like I was a fucking fag or something. Gary Smith didn't kiss people, didn't touch them except to fucking poke and prod. He sure as fuck didn't kiss me.
It took me too long to figure out what the fuck was going on and push him away. "What the fuck is wrong with you, you motherfucking freak!"
Gary looked pleased. Didn't know if it was because he'd kissed me or because I was pissed. "That worked better than I thought it would. You kissed better than I thought you would, although word has it you've had a bit of practice. I'm impressed, Jimmyboy."
I don't hide, and I don't back down. Doesn't mean I didn't fucking feeling like running right then. I swallowed the lump in my throat. "This is the last time I'm fucking coming here."
"You've said that before."
"Fuck you."
"You've said that too. I don't see why you just won't deal with the fact that you're as fascinated with me as I am with you."
I wanted to fucking argue but every time I thought about arguing, I could see the response: why keep coming back? And the only answer was that I needed to. And look where that got me? Kissed by the psycho ex-headboy who may not have fucked my loser of a best friend who if he knew what I was doing right now would have an asthma attack—and he didn't even have asthma, as far as I knew.
I moved to get my sneakers, and put them on in a rush. Gary didn't say anything, but I could feel him staring at me. That was why I punched the wall, because I needed to punch something, and I wasn't risking moving towards him.
"Need someone to kiss it and make it better?" Gary mocked. "And don't tell me to fuck off or shut up, because really, you can learn to be more creative than that."
I clenched my jaw. "Fuck off and die you creep."
"Did I blow my chance at another date?" I pushed past him to head to the door, and I was surprised he didn't try to make another grab at me. Probably because he knew I was aware enough to punch him this time. "See you tomorrow night, friend."
Couldn't even stop my fucking mouth as I opened the cell door. "Yeah."
TBC
