Chapter 2 – What boys are really saying
A/N: First of all, we'd both like to thank all of you for the fantastic reviews! We never thought we'd get so many on a first chapter like that! You guys rock our worlds! We're sorry for the long delay, but IBB went on vacation, and then I did too. And then she moved, so we didn't really get much of a chance. But it's okay now, because chapter two is up, and chapter three shouldn't take so long this time! So thank you all for your patience, we can't wait to see what you thought of this chapter too!
Another note. This chapter isn't as funny, but we both awwwed our pants off at each other. So we feel it's kinda cute. Tell us what you think ;).
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As I enter the school three days later, the stench of Febreeze nearly knocks me off my feet. Damn shitty school has been messing up my lesson plan by delaying classes for the past two days. Figures. Second day of class and already the school's going to hell. So much for the new renovations the school board was raving about.
By the time I walk into my room, my nose has either a) become used to the smell, or b) went on strike until further notice. I swear I saw some damage from the...uh...leak...near the back entryway, but I'm going to avoid that area. 'Sides, I have my first period to prepare for. Seeing they got some extra time on their assignment, there better be something worth my while to read.
The starting bell rings so shrilly that I bet that dogs five miles away are writhing on the ground. Once again, the usual shuffle of students flows into the room, only this time I recognize at least half of them. I'd probably know all their names if I took attendance for once, but fuck it. If kids don't want to come, it's their failing grade, not mine.
"Hey Mr. M," I hear that SAME girl who batted her eyes at me three days before say. Is she serious? Yep. She just licked her lips. Ah, this job is going to put me into therapy.
I instead divert my attention to some unnecessary yelling in the hallway, just outside the room. I recognize immediately one voice. It's that kid who calls himself King. Ah, all the kids are staring at me. Guess I should go see what's up out there.
As I walk outside, I see King and Majesty looking like they are ready to attack each other, and although I can't see King's eyes, I'll bet they're gleaming murder. Majesty appears to be calmer, but his eyes are deadly.
"Jesus can you just SHUT THE HELL UP FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE!" King practically screams at Majesty, taking me off guard. He didn't seem like the screaming type. Then again, if this kid is one half of Sting, he's probably the Kyle half. And Kyle's temper is just as easily agitated. I watch him, slightly amused, as he practically foams at the mouth at the unsuspecting Majesty. Guess I should break 'em up.
"Alright boys, now that you've had your wake up call, get your butts into my room now," I say, pushing them by their shoulders.
The boys stalk off, trying to keep their distance while walking through the same door. It's really quite amusing. Once inside, Stan brightly calls King over, which immediately changes King's frown into a smile as he walks over to join his best friend. Majesty flops down beside chubby, who is busy staring at that same little blonde girl with curls.
"You've all gotten an extra few days to work on your paper, so I want you to pass them up to the front now," I explain, wanting to get right to it today. We've got a lot to cover. A whole person's personality.
Majesty sniffs the air and crinkles his nose in disapproval. "Dang, McCormick, you forget to clean up after you went swimming in your cess pool?"
The idiot totally has this shit eating grin plastered on his face. "Oh haha. You're funny. In fact, so funny, I think you deserve a round of applause!" I declare at the smug little ass. "Come on class, give him a round of applause!" Everyone starts clapping, and I'm not sure if Majesty is flattered or humiliated. "Do you do stand up kid? Come on up here, why don't you tell us a few more jokes?"
I see a shade of red spread across his face, and he slumps noticeably in his chair. Oh no, that kid isn't getting away with that shit. "Come on up!" I mock, stepping aside and "preparing" a stage for him.
I hear a snicker to the left of me. "Don't push him too far, he'll pee his pants," King informs me, which earns a very loud growl from the bastard who insulted me.
Majesty walks up and stands awkwardly in front of the class.
"Oh wait! You forgot your microphone!" I announce, handing Majesty a pink highlighter. He looks at me, bewildered.
"Go ahead," I prod. "Since you're so full of jokes, why don't you enlighten us on some more?"
"Well, I do have one," he begins.
"WE CAN'T HEAR YOU!" King eggs him on, looking over to Stan for approval. Little Stan is just beaming.
Majesty locks eyes with little Stan, then at King. His eyes narrow, and a devilish grin spreads across his face. "What do you call a boy who's in love with his best friend?"
King's eyes narrow as well, losing all traces of the smile he had before. This is going to get nasty.
"Well, this is enou-" I start to say, trying to avoid all the drama, but Majesty interrupts me.
"You call him Lu!" He bellows across the room. "Lululululululu! Hah! What do you say to THAT, 'king'?" He mocks the nickname.
Lu? What significance was that to anything, I wonder. King starts flushing bright red, and he looks more pissed off than anything else. Even Stan isn't smiling anymore.
"Sit DOWN, Majesty!" I scream, digging my fingers like claws into the side of his neck and shoulder. How DARE that brat cause a disturbance in my class. I don't even know what the hell just happened, but I will get these kids to snap out of it. I just can't stand to see everyone so...depressed.
I glare at Majesty, and glance over to King, who has propped his elbow up on the table, hiding his face from Stan.
"Okay, we're gonna start class now, if that's okay with YOU, Majesty," I growl.
"Actually-" Majesty starts to say while smirking, but I don't let him continue. Whatever he did just upset my favorite kid and his BFF, and I'm not taking any of that.
"Actually WHAT?" I roar at Majesty, and he shrinks back into his chair. I glare at him menacingly. "One more word and you're out of my class."
The class is silent. The mutant children must have swallowed their tongues, cause I can't hear even the sound of their breathing.
Cool. Now we can get on with it!
I travel to my chalkboard, which is cracked, and as I search for chalk, I discover we no longer have erasers--but there is a generous stack of paper towels on the ledge below.
'Damn this poor school to hell,' I curse in my mind as I finally uncover a tiny nub of a chalk beside the towels.
"And for your information class, it's not ME that smells like a cess pool, it's this - school," I say, omitting the curse from my sentence. "You've had the past two days off because there was a clog in the piping and all the toilets backed up. This whole damn place smells like a sewer. That, plus Febreeze."
I spin on my heels, scanning the classroom for any wise-ass comments. Nothing. These kids are broken. I can handle funny comments, as long as they aren't from that asshole that's going to make my prize Style candidates cry. "Are all papers up front?" I ask, resuming my teaching role.
There is a murmur of yes's throughout the room. "Alright, I'll take a look at those tonight and get them back to you soon." I state. "Let's continue on with the day's lessons. Can anyone give us a brief summary of what we talked about yesterday?"
Again, no response. Shit! I scared these students into submission. That's no good, I HATE just lecturing! Guess I'll have to resort to Plan B. Shit. I need Stan and King for it, they'd be best. But I can't do anything with them...yet. "Majesty, get your ass up here," I command. He springs forward and faces me at the front of the classroom. I figure this behavior will subside from him, and he'll be a dick again in no time.
"What did we learn yesterday Majesty?" I ask, eyes narrowing at him. "And you sure as hell better not make any crude remarks either."
Majesty ponders this for a moment, seeming a little worried that he might say the wrong thing. "We - we learned," he stutters. "We learned that - it's okay to be gay?" He flinches away from me the second he's said it.
I bite my lip and ponder this, finally nodding my head. "Sure is," I agree. "Specifically, what is the condition we are going to talk more about?"
"Falling for your best friend," he answers me immediately, staring directly at King. I see a hand raise, either in objection or agreement, from the back row.
"Yes?" I ask, mildly irritated.
"My parents told me this isn't appropriate material for 6th graders."
I turn around to recognize a student I didn't remember from yesterday. He had shaggy brown hair, and two different coloured eyes which I noticed immediately.
"Oh? And what makes you think this isn't appropriate?"
"I thought sex-ed was where you learned about sex and condoms and birth control and stuff," he shrugs at me while leaning back on his chair.
I bring my arm out, making a "STOP" gesture with my hand. Looking at the floor with my head tilted, I decide to dignify the homophobe with a response. "Patience, kid. We'll get to that."
I look up to the class. "Kids, Style is more important than sex, or condoms, or even birth control cause it is HAPPENING this very minute in this very room!"
All is silent again. I think I hear crickets.
Wouldn't surprise me if there really WERE crickets.
King raises his head slightly at that, and he flashes me a nervous glance. Pffft. I'd never single anyone out like that, especially after that verbal beating Majesty just gave him and Stan. Stan seems a little happier now having seen some form of movement from his best friend.
"Okay, so I'm going to start with Stan. Marsh! That is," I add quickly, not wanting anyone to confuse it with the current Stan here, as easy as that may be.
"Here, read this," I tell Majesty, shoving a stapled bunch of papers into this stomach. What? I plan!
Majesty eyes the document, his eyebrows rising further and further until they disappear into his hairline. He shakes his head. "No way," he tells me flatly.
I grit my teeth. "Half of your grade in this class is based on participation, MAJESTY. I strongly suggest you read the story."
"Nuh-uh. Find someone else, McCormick," he says, tossing the paper back at me and taking a seat.
I refrain from threatening the boy with his life, as hard as that is. "Majesty, get your scrawny little ASS back up here right now, or else you fail this whole course, and if you don't pass sex-ed, you don't pass sixth grade. Your decision."
Majesty looks at me in disbelief. "You're joking. You can't do that."
"I sure as hell can, Majesty," I assure him. "I'm the teacher, not you, so you do what the goddamn teacher says!"
"You don't have that kind of power," Majesty challenges me.
It is MY turn to narrow my eyes. I run my tongue across the front of my teeth and resist the urge to crack my knuckles. "Don't try me, kid." I walk up to him, looking down. "You disobey me again, I'll kick you out. Don't take sex-ed, you don't learn about females. You don't learn about females? You don't get dates. Period."
"Yeah, and then you'll be single and alone your whole life," I hear a quieter voice pipe up. I am surprised to find that young Stan has seemingly taken a lighthearted jab at Majesty. He seems a little uncertain about it, glancing over at his friend for approval. Or maybe that was the plan all along to try to cheer King up again. I hear King snort, and a small smile shows on Stan's face.
"He's right, you know," I continue. "You'll be a virgin forever. Do you want that?"
"What's a virgin?" I hear a girlish voice ask. Oh boy. I'll get back to that later.
Majesty scoffs. "I'll just take it with a better teacher down the road."
"You'll have a reputation of FAILING SEX ed," King chimes in. I'm happy to have him back. "You wouldn't want THAT, would you, Majesty?"
Young Stan couldn't have looked more thrilled. He eagerly puts his hand on the other's back, but King flinches away, making Stan pout. Ouch. Poor Stan. No one else seems to have noticed this though.
Majesty glares at King. "I wouldn't mind failing GAY sex ed," he declares, adding a 'lu' under his breath. King looks pained for a moment, but this time he manages to shrug it off.
"I wouldn't be talking if I were YOU, Melvin!" he retorts with contempt.
I watch the interaction between King and Majesty, and I observe Majesty's eyes widening and fists balling. I see little Stan pull on King's shirt, asking, "What's going on, Lu?" and it dawns on me.
And I bust out laughing. It's hard for me to control it. I hunch over, grabbing my stomach. Majesty's name! Hahahahahahahahaha. Whoa shit, I have a pain in my side. Ouch.
Majesty continues to glare.
"Me- oh, oh God, that's priceless," I say, hiccuping. King gives me an amused look, and I wipe the tears from my eyes. "A-alright then Me-Mel-Me," I start, but I can't say it without snickering, so I revert to his other name. "Alright then, Majesty, get… get your ass up here before I flunk it," I force out while the tears continue to freefall down my face. I wouldn't be surprised if I drowned in them. Wouldn't be the strangest death yet.
"Why don't you get Luke-ASS to do it, he fits the part," Majesty retorts. King shoots him a death look, complete with fangs. Stan cautiously brings a hand up to his shoulder, urging King to calm down.
"Mr. M doesn't need any of your lip, Melvin," King repeats his name, adding even MORE tears to my eyes. Perhaps I should act a bit grown up about this whole situation. But...hahaha MELVIN! HE'S A FUCKIN MELVIN!
"Ah-oh, all right boys, enough's enough," I finally say after a few moments. "Heh, oh man. Alright, Me-elvin," I hiccup, "if you're too much of a pussy to read off of a piece of paper, then let's find someone else in this classroom who's actually got some balls. Any volunteers?"
A chorus of hands raise. Apparently the whole debacle lifted the whole classes' spirits.
Among the eager hands, I spy an almost spastic Stan, jumping out of his desk and trying to elevate his hand above everyone else's. Ah, you know how kids are. Maybe I'm just imagining it. The hallucinations are coming back again.
"Alright, Stan, you seem pretty interested. Come up here," I coax him.
He beams at King before practically running to the front of the room. King looks amused as well as intrigued by his best friend's behavior. Stan practically grabs the paper from me, and starts reading at a ridiculously fast pace.
"StanMarshwasatypicalguywholikedvideogamesand-"
"Woah, woah, woah, slow down there Stan," I say, trying not to bite my lip at the eagerness of the young boy.
"Right," Stan responds, nodding at me before continuing.
"Stan Marsh was a typical guy who liked video games and enjoyed getting into tea fights." Stan eyeballs the sentence, as if something familiar is registering in his brain, but then he continues. "He was best friends with Kyle...Brof...Lowski?" He looks at me to continue, and I nod.
All the while, King is leaning over his desk, his face sandwiched between his hands. He has the classic dreamy expression on his face. I think my heart just skipped a beat.
Christ, I'm turning into a girl.
Stan looks up, and the second their eyes meet, King loses the stare and sits up properly in his seat. All I can say is thank God for bangs, because that would have been a dead giveaway.
Stan looks back down at the paper. "T-they had known each other since kindergarten, and over the years, their friendship only strengthened as they experienced many trials and tri-bu-la-tions together, side by side. But somewhere along the way, something changed."
Little Stan continues, momentarily stuttering after his little brain comprehends that he and his best friend just had a moment. At least that's what I like to contribute the stutter to. "But before we can learn about the special bond between Stan and Kyle, we need to get to know Stanley Marsh himself." Stan looks to me with a bright smile, as if I'm supposed to congratulate him for reading my first paragraph.
I look over the class, and notice a few kids staring absently out the window, dozing off, and even some dipshit trying to balance a pencil on the end of his huge nose. I grumble, not wanting the kids to hear me, and rudely interrupt little Stan's reading. "Listen up," I address the class. "You want an A in the class, you gotta pay attention." I walk over to my desk, shuffle through a stack of papers, and hand them over to Stan.
"Pass these out for me, Stanley," I state, and he does as he's told. Everyone in this damn class is going to talk today. I'll make sure of it.
I notice Trevor scanning the page with a frown on his face, confusion growing.
"W-what exactly is this, Mr. M?" He asks me, seeming mildly worried.
"This, Trevor, is something I like to call role play. Alright everyone, break off into groups of two, preferably both of you being the same sex," I announce to the class, and the typical groups form.
I hear tubby snort with laughter, and Majesty mutters under his breath "fag". What a pity I happened to be walking by at that exact same time and my hand involuntarily reached out and collided with the back of his head.
Little shit.
Again, the mutants divide as they're told, Majesty with his tubby friend, Braids with...her gay crush girl...and of course King and Stan. Little Trevor sits alone.
I immediately take pity on the poor kid. I wonder if it's just this class he has no friends in.
"Hey Trevor, how'd you like to go first with me?" I ask him kindly.
"Uh, I-I guess so," he stutters out, flushing pink. This is going to turn out to be a really awkward experience for every student here.
Good. The sooner I can open their eyes, the happier their lives will be.
"Trevor, I'm going to play the role of my friend, Kyle Broflovski. You are going to read Stan's lines, okay?" I turn to the class. "This, my children, is the evolution of Style. Watch and learn."
I turn back to Trevor, signaling for him to begin. He opens his mouth, and after a few stutters, his voice starts flowing more freely than a river that had just risen twenty feet.
"H-hey Kyle, what's up?" Trevor starts.
I read the next line. "Nothing much, just putting the finishing touches on this calculus assignment."
"C-Calculus sucks. I'm so glad I didn't take it. It's so g-g-gay?" Trevor stutters from discomfort at saying the final word.
"Ch'yeah," I say, almost routinely. "Say, Stan, how about you and I go out for a burger tonight? Mom and dad'll be out late, so I don't have to worry about curfew."
Trevor looks to me with pleading eyes. I raise my eyebrows, and he swallows loudly, peering back down at the paper. "Sure, Kyle. Maybe afterwards, we can come back to your house and hang out."
"Stop. Excellent," I praise. "Who wants to go next?"
I see Braids raise her hand, along with her best friend, Darla or something or other.
"Alright Braids, you go next," I instruct. Braids growls 'it's Sandy' under her breath, but makes her way up nonetheless to pick up where we left off.
"That'd be killer. I just got a new video game, and I-" Braids looks at me disbelievingly, but I say nothing, so she continues. "-and I can't wait to pound your ass in it."
Darla shakes her head, as instructed to in the skit. "YOUR ass is MINE, Broflovski," she says through clenched teeth.
"We'll see." Braids sighs and rolls her eyes. "Mr. McCormick, do you honestly expect us to BELIEVE that boys talk this way?"
I nod. "Sure! This is a direct scene taken out of their day. It's the Style kids. It creeps up on ya, you don't even realize." I pause. "Continue.
Braids sighs as Darla continues to read. "Why don't we just order a pizza and have a sleepover then? We can stay up all night playing video games and pounding the shit out of each other. Ten bucks says I beat you."
"Oh yeah? Well ten bucks AND my toy model Ferrari say nuh-uh!"
Darla feigns shock. "But that's your favourite car EVER!"
I feel the beginning of a tear forming in the depths of my eye, they are so realistic. But their time is up. "Okay! Ladies, thank you, that was wonderful. Who's next?" After I mentally ignore little Stanley's shooting hand, I find my next victims. "Tubby! Mel chuckle Majesty! Your turn!"
Tubby extracts himself from the desk and Majesty follows closely behind, probably hiding in his fat shadow.
"I don't wanna," Majesty says childishly after emerging from behind tubby, crossing his arms.
I made a face at him. "You don't get a choice. Everyone's doing it. Stan here-" I say, gesturing at Young Stan, "-has already proved he's twice the man as you by reading that paragraph that you wouldn't. You want him to beat you out again?" Little Stan beams at my comment, and even King smiles a little.
Majesty growls. He turns his attention to the page before him. "Right. You can't outdo me, Kyle. I'll outlast you until you are begging for me to stop and pleading my...I can't do this," he tells me, interrupting my overly graphic thoughts.
Just as I feel the need for a wiseass comment of my own, Tubby continues without missing a beat. "You wanna bet? I'll wrestle you for dominance."
"And what the hell does THAT have to do with video games?" Majesty demands, eyes narrowing at me, face flushing hot.
I shrug. "Eh. No script is perfect."
"You probably just want us to talk like this to fulfill your own sick thoughts you pervert!" Majesty declares, face paling at the prospect.
Heh. The jackass has a point. "Alright, fair enough. Let's skip down to scenario II. Who wants to volunteer?" I ask, not ready for Stan and King to participate. I have a special scene picked out for them. One that'll possibly help King out a bit with his problem...
But for now, I look back to this pair who hasn't said a word in class or moved a muscle the entire time. I'll pick on them.
I gesture for curly blonde girl from yesterday, who is followed shortly thereafter by a short girl with thick black rimmed glasses and long black hair that hangs in her face. She's wearing a shirt with a skull on it; she so emo it's a little scary. What a strange pair.
Curls starts off. "Dude, I'm seriously going to fail that science test tomorow. I'm so screwed."
"I'll screw you if you don't help ME study for it," she says in monotone.
"McCormick you can't be fucking serious," I hear Majesty gripe, but I tune him out.
"You should learn to do your own work, Stan. I won't be able to hold your hand throughout life, ya know," Curls reads perfectly. Ah, music to my perverted ears.
Emo should have batted her eyes, but doesn't. "Why not? Then you can help me with EVERYTHING."
Curls rolls her eyes. "I already do, you -" she glances at the page, then turns to me, beckoning me down.
"Can we say that word in school?" She whispers nervously to me.
"Yeah, don't worry, its fine," I reassure her.
Curls turns back to Emo. "You - you - DUMBASS!"
"Okay, we get it! They always talk about each other's asses!" Majesty yells, high above the needed volume. "Does that really mean they WANT each other? Maybe they're just...really...bad...at saying stuff!"
I take a deep breath and exhale. "Patience, kid. You'll see." I signal that its time for another group to read, and two kids that I don't even remember seeing before skip up to the front and recite their lines. Time goes on, and these kids still don't have a damn clue what Style means. The Big Scene is soon to arrive, though. I need my star students for this. Its going to transform everyone's ways of thinking, let me tell you.
"Alright then, Stan and King, why don't you guys come up here?" I say casually after dismissing the last group. Stan bounds to the front of the classroom, whereas King takes his time, seeming reluctant to come up. I smile reassuringly at him as I hand the boys their lines.
"S-Stan," King stutters, and I notice the colour in his face darkens ever so slightly. "I have something to say." The fact that Stan and Stan share the same name must make this even more awkward.
"What, Kyle?" Stan responds innocently. I doubt this is going to penetrate his naive brain, but I sure as hell am gonna try. Any normal kid would know exactly what's going on as soon as King stuttered his name. But not Stan. He's an oblivious little boy, and even though the whole world knows of King's feelings for him, he's as clueless as a blind man watching a porno.
"Well-erm, you see. It's just that-" King sounds so genuine, I can't remember if I wrote that or if he's just doing his own thing. He takes a breath of air, and tries to keep it cool. "It's just that - there's this movie out, see. And - I wanted to know if you wanted to see it with me?" He lets the last part out in all one breath.
Stan smiles kindly. "Sure. We always do that."
"Okay, hang on for a sec, guys," I tell them. "Okay, class, see where this is going? There has been a switch somewhere. Kyle's got more on his mind than just "seeing a movie" with Stan." I look to King. "Right?"
He bashfully – and I mean act-like-a-turtle-and-shrink-back-in-your-hair-shell bashful -nods in agreement. Little Stan looks to me with the clearest, bluest eyes I have ever known anyone to have.
"Yeah, it's so obvious that Kyle likes Stan," the naive boy states clearly. "How could anyone not notice?" King looks like he wants to sink into a hole in the ground.
I have to bite my lip hard to keep from laughing out loud at this. I bite right through my lip in fact, and taste blood.
Little Stan frowns at me. "What?"
"Oh, nothing," I say in a tight voice. "Please, continue."
King's line is next, but he has stopped speaking. His mouth is poised, ready for action, but nothing is coming out. Finally, he looks up at me, and for the first time, I see the horror in his eyes, unshielded.
Okay, I feel a bit bad now. But I'm honestly doing him a favor! I give him the "its okay" look that I've practiced my whole life and wait for him to continue. Please don't let this plan backfire.
King manages to snap back into it, but only slightly. "W-well then that's good. W-wanna grab a bite to eat b-before then too? Like, pizza or s-something?" King is stuttering so badly I could practically mistake him for Trevor. Well, maybe not THAT bad. But still.
Stan, seeming mildly concerned at his friend's new dialect, continues on. "Whatever. Wanna help me with my English assignment too? I can't think of a good topic for it."
King gulps. "How about English can...bl-b-blow me..." He stops completely again. I see him close his eyes, even though the curtain of hair. Finally, he looks to Stan, smiling. "It's the weekend, dude. Let's have fun."
Stan smiles back at his friend. "Deal."
I wrote in the script that Stan is supposed to grab "Kyle" by the shoulders and they are supposed to walk "off" to their movie, but I feel the milk come out of my nose when he actually does it. Holy shit!
They stay that way all the way back to their desks. If anyone other than me was looking carefully, they'd notice the slight goofy grin on King's face, and even slighter blush across his cheeks. Stan seems to take this as a hint that he's done a good job, so he's absolutely beaming. Nice kid, but goddamn he's a dumbass.
"You okay Lu? You looked sick up there for a moment," Stan informs his best friend.
King nods his head, seemingly still on cloud nine. "Yeah. I'm fine."
I hear Majesty let out air out of his mouth - it's probably extra from his inflated ego - as King continues to stare out into outer space. I see him open his mouth for some jerk off comment, but I counterattack it instead with my next assignment. "Okay, ladies and gents. We've all got a taste of how Style came to be. Evolution. It's real. Learn it. LIVE it." I clear my throat. "And now, we're going to give you a first-hand chance to create your OWN Style scenario!"
"You can switch pairs or keep the ones you have," I continue. "It needs to be - let's say, around a minute I guess? You can improvise or read from paper, I don't care, but be creative!"
The kids busily get to work. Stan has to wave his hand in front of King's face before gaining his attention.
"Lucas, come on, you gotta pay attention!" He whines at King. Huh. So that's his name.
I like King better.
Not long after I have sat down to leaf through their assignments, I spy brown hair on the other side of my desk. "Mr. M, c-can I be excused from this assignment?" Trevor asks timidly.
I drop the papers and look at him quizzically. "What? No! Why?"
I watch as he lowers his eyes to the ground and he kicks at an invisible rock with his shoe. "Because I don't like nobody like that." He pauses. "And nobody likes me like that neither."
I raise my eyebrows at him. "You don't have to actually like someone like THAT, it's just an exercise," I explain. "Most of the kids here probably aren't even remotely gay, or lesbian for that matter."
"B-but no one wants to be my partner," he responds, lower lip quivering.
"That's not true, Trevor," I say, even though that seems to be the case. Why don't you join a group? Three people won't be bad for improv." I really have no idea how to handle these lost souls. I feel so bad for him, but can I really tell him that he's right? He's too cute, and eventually, someone'll adopt him for a friend. He cheers up a bit and then walks back to join fatass and Majesty's group. Ooookay, well, I wouldn't have picked those two, but I guess he likes a challenge.
"I'll give you guys five more minutes!" I announce, and the class simultaneously groans. In the meanwhile, I decide to busy myself by leafing through a few of these reports here. I reach Stan's, and I pull it out, interested, as I begin to read.
The kid has covered the front page with an amateur doodle of King and himself, throwing a football or some ball-like object, I can't tell. They are both smiling, and it is roughly coloured in with pencil crayons.
I start reading the inside. "The most important person in my life right now to me is my best friend. He has been my best friend since I was old enough to say his name. He and I have been through everything together. I can't wait for more of everything to happen with us together again. Ha, he's cute. Slightly dimwitted, but cute.
I want to see what his best friend chose to write about.
Decidedly saving the rest of Stan's for later, I come across King's. It is in a professional duo tang folder, and he even went so far as to make a proper printed title page. Very professional for someone his age. I turn to the first page.
"What is a best friend? Some say it is one soul in two bodies. I don't believe that. A best friend is someone who has their own soul, and your similarities and differences coexist in a united display of platonic affection." Jesus Christ, this kid writes way older than his age
I read on. "Stanley Benton III was, at first contact, the greatest friend a man could ask for. As a child, we became inseparable, and his loyalty withstands even the devotion of the Tibetan monks to Buddha. Our friendship has never faltered on account of an outer source spreading false accusations about me. Perhaps it is his naivety that I love most." Oh my lord, this kid has professed his love at age 11. He BETTER get what he wants. He deserves it; I am going to switch my ideas of Style to the makings of Sting. I scan over the rest briefly, because I notice time is running out, but I see a small, handwritten blurb at the end. "Please don't show this to anyone Mr. M. It's for my grade only. I can't risk other eyes and the loss of my best friend."
I tear my eyes away from the juvenile writing and notice King looking straight back at me. He knows I've been looking at his essay. Discreetly, I slip him an acknowledging wink, and he smiles ever so slightly before turning back to Stan. I clap my hands together to get the classes' attention.
"Alright, time's up," I announce to the class. "Who wants to go first?"
But just as these words escape my lips, the end of class bell rings, and I sigh in disappointment.
"Alright then, tomorrow I guess," I say, and I wave off the brats with my hand.
I get a bunch of high-pitched "byes" and "see you laters" as the entire class files out of the room, seemingly before the bell even ends. Ha, they're probably nervous about the improv. Hey, you gotta test SKILLS in Mr. M's class.
"Yoo hoo," I hear a sweet voice coo. "Keeeennny." Speaking of skills...there is a tall, luscious beauty standing in my doorway.
"Hey, pretty lady. What's a cute thing like you doing in a shithole like this?" I say in a sexy voice, advancing towards my wife.
"I work here Kenny, remember?" She responds, raising an eyebrow at me. I resist the urge to smack myself in the forehead.
Instead, I give her a seductive glance up and down, and she responds by licking her lips. "Do you have some place to be?" she asks me.
"The closet," I tell her.
"Whoa, Kenny, that's where I was thinking of going! We are totally on the same wave path, ohmygod," she explains, as she hooks her arm in mine and we exit my classroom with our destination in mind.
"And this time, let's avoid the mop bucket," she says, remembering the last time the closet was occupied.
I smile at her. "And the Javex. That stuff burns your eyes." I squeeze my wife's hand, and open the closet door for her.
Always a gentleman, no matter the circumstances.