Fickle

Old Fiat

Currently Listening: "Unreachable" by Ashlee Simpson from her album Autobiography. I know, I know—Ashlee Simpson, how lame of me. But I recently found this CD in my room (I bought it a couple years ago and kind of liked it then) and decided to listen to it. It's actually pretty good. Well, I like it anyway. C:

Enjoy the chapter! I just got back from the eye doctor (my eyes still sting from that damn dye) so I apologize about any typos caused my pained eyes. (I always have an excuse for my typos, don't I…) Also not much happens in this chapter… Oh well.

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Chapter Eight: Poor Unfortunate Souls

I had to make a quick stop at the grocery store before my "date" with Ryan, which meant I was out of the house by ten. I backed my nearly dead truck out of the driveway and sped along the road to Maureen and Tom's. Allowing my mind to wander, I turned up the radio and let the music pour out of my crappy speakers.

"Well it's a big, big city an it's always the same. Can never be too pretty. Tell me your name…"

How could I have been so stupid? The question that had been shoved to the back of my mind for several days suddenly rushed to the front, repeating over and over in my head. I tried to push it back down but it came up again, bobbing up and down in my liquid thoughts to the beat of the song.

"I know I may be a downer, I'm still ready to dream…"

How could I have been so stupid? Why did I just assume that Ryan would like me back? Sure, I had been too distracted by my whirling emotions to have time to really think about him liking me back, but seriously. My crush examination test needed to be edited. I quickly added to it:

4.) Try and find out if they like you back

"So if you're lonely, why'd you say you're not lonely? Oh you're a silly girl…"

I mean, even in straight crushes, what are the chances of the object of your… desire liking you back? Like one in a million. Seriously. And then with… yeah… It had to be even less.

"And I must confess, my heart's in broken pieces and my head's a mess…"

This applied. As much a liked the idea of being friends with Ryan, it still hurt to be rejected. I know this has to sound stupid and arrogant, but I'd never really been denied when asking someone out. Like, all of my relationships (excluding my one with Gabriella) ended in me being dumped because I was too loyal or because I… erm… refused to do it or something. I'm serious, every single girl (excluding Gabriella). It sucks. I'm, like, the only guy on the basketball team who's a… yeah. I just don't want to do that yet. Not that I've not been tempted—severely. I just… yeah.

Anyway, I'd never been refused when asking someone out. It hurt a lot.

"And it's you, woo-hoo, that's got me going crazy for the things you do…"

I parked in front of the grocers and tried to sort myself out before I went inside.

I couldn't spoil my friendship with Ryan, even though I wanted more. It wouldn't be right. I mean he said that whole 'if feelings develop we can give it a go' speech and I should just forget about all my past… thingness and trust in that. If something happened, it would happen. We were friends.

I turned the key and cut the man singing off in the middle of his whistling. Taking off my yarmulke and stuffing it in my pocket, I slammed the door closed and locked it. As I walked through the automatic doors I realized with a pang I was feeling exactly what Gabriella had felt in late August.

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After driving home with the multiple shopping bags, I replaced my yarmulke, brought them into the house and drove the OIP. I sped up considerably when I looked at my watch and became conscious of the fact that I was fifteen minutes late. I probably shouldn't have spent as long as I did in the grocery store.

I stopped outside a small brick building with large windows and a white sign painted with the letters Original Italian Pizza. I jumped out, shut the door and ran in.

It was warm and stuffy inside and smelled heavily of tomato and dough. I winked at the girl behind the counter (she blushed instantly and dropped the phone she'd been speaking into.) before looking around the restaurant for Gabriella and Ryan.

There were a lot of other people in the room, their conversations creating a pleasant buzz. I saw Jason, Zeke, Andy and a couple of the other members of the basketball team sitting at one of the tables. I watched them as Zeke miming throwing a shot, earning several cheers from the other boys. I looked away and caught sight of a group of cheerleaders who were also staring at them. Actually, a lot of East High students were there. Why shouldn't they be? There was no school that day and the OIP had the best pizza.

I caught sight of Gabriella and Ryan in a booth by one of the windows—Ryan was miming something involving a mustache and Gabriella was laughing hysterically. I began to head over to them, passing the basketball team's table as I went. One of them, a Eurasian-looking guy who I had seen before from the second string, stuck out his leg as I walked by. I tripped, nearly falling flat on my front but caught myself at the last second, and spun around to face them. Guessing by their laughter I was now not only to be ignored, but teased as well. Lovely. I wondered for a second what my idiotic nickname would be until I noticed that Chad wasn't with them. (Despite what you may think, Chad doesn't hate pizza because his mom makes it a lot, in fact, this only encourages his love of them food.)

Before I could ask about this though, one of the waitresses had come over and begun reprimanding them, apologizing to me as well. I waved it off and sat down beside Gabriella in the booth.

"Hey guys," I said, pulling off my coat and letting it rest between me and the pleather seat. "Sorry I'm late."

Gabriella shrugged. "It's cool."

Ryan smiled. "Yup. I was just telling Gabriella about my granddad and his war stories."

I laughed and watched Ryan as he launched into a rant about his mildly insane grandparent. He was wearing the same shiny black shoes he'd been wearing on Tuesday, but he was dressed in (slightly) more casual clothes now: khaki trousers and a black button-up with short sleeves. He was, of course, wearing a hat, but this time it was just a simple red newsboy. No sparkles, no glitter. I was a little surprised, but he (to my immense discomfort) still looked very good.

I thought back to when he was yelling at me. He had looked very handsome then too, but in a more… (blonde) Mr. Darcy way. I know I said I'm not into romantic stuff, but I do really like Pride and Prejudice. It's probably my favorite book, actually, even though I try to keep my shelves stocked with… anything not-girly. I mean, it's well written and Kiera Knightly is hot, so I have some kind of excuse. (Even though I read it before the film came out…)

Sorry for rambling. Anyway, I was thinking about this when I suddenly realized Ryan was speaking to me.

"…weird?" he said, finishing his question and taking a sip of coke.

"Huh?" I said, without thinking. I looked around the restaurant. "Where's the waitress?"

Gabriella gave me a funny look. "Nice one, space cadet. She hasn't come yet."

"Oh," I said sheepishly. "What were you asking me, Ryan?"

He shook his head to try and disguise a laugh. "Nothing, it doesn't matter. Hey," he looked at me, head cocked slightly to the side. "Why are you wearing a yarmulke? It's not even Saturday or anything."

I jumped and pulled it off, blushing. "My mom's kind of weird…" I muttered, slipping it into my pocket just as the waitress came over.

"Leave it on," she said with a wink in my direction. "It looks cute."

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Nothing much happened the rest of the week. At school on Friday I was ignored, taunted, etc. It was an interesting position to be in. In my role as basketball captain, I was trapped with the same groups of people, even after Gabriella and I "broke free" (ha ha) from the clique thing, it didn't mean I had begun to mingle with the people who always stood on the sides of the hallways, whose heads were dunked in the toilets more than once a day and spoke to no one but their cats. (Not that I was at that point. No one had attempted to stick my head in the toilets or anything because, in spite of my new position as the school fag, they all knew that I could [maybe take them on. Also I'm allergic to animal dander so… no cats for me.) It was a new experience.

That weekend my dad refused to let me sit around in my room listening to music and dragged me outside to play a bit of basketball so I could "stay on my toes." I suppose this was a good idea, at least I would be able to shove anyone who did try and dunk my head in the toilet very hard against a wall, but then things went wrong.

We played a one-on-one game for forty-five minutes on the mini-court my dad got put in the back. I was in the lead (but not by much) when we heard the gate on the fence around I property slam shut.

"Coach?" said a smooth, familiar voice. I turned around to see Chad, Jason, Zeke and nameless Eurasian boy crossing the lawn to the basketball court. I froze, the rough, rubber ball still held tight in my sweaty hands.

"What are you boys doing here?" asked my dad, placing his hands on his hips and bringing up his chest in the way he does when talking to someone but he's still seriously worn out from playing.

"You said we could come over to work on our formations," said Eurasian boy with a smile. He seemed like he would be friendly, if I were a… friend. But, of course, I wasn't.

But you knew that.

"Oh—oh yeah… You're right!" said my dad, smacking himself lightly on the forehead. He looked at me apologetically. "You don't mind, do you Troy?"

"Of course not," I said as cheerfully as I could when confronted with the fact that my dad was going to play ball with people who would've left me in the street if I'd been hit by a car. I smiled at them. "Bye guys!" I tossed the ball to Jason, who caught it. Three of the four gave soft snorts at what I said.

Hive mind, I thought and then gave my head a slight shake. I needed to start talking more to people who weren't Gabriella.

"Bye," I said and jogged off. It suddenly occurred to me that Chad hadn't snorted or smirked at me. In fact, he didn't even look at me, deciding his shoelaces were far more interesting.

Of course, they probably were.

Anyway, on Monday there was an extra long gym class due to the fact that Coach Warner (also known as the only teacher who called me faggot, queer, or queer-ass Jew-boy) would be away on Friday to go in surgery. I hoped it would be a brain transplant, but, unfortunately, it was a… guts… thing… Anyway! Fortunately (for me at least because it's my worst subject), we got out of science for the day. But still, an extra hour of being ridiculed by a man who thought you were the best student ever last year wasn't going to be fun.

My prediction was correct.

Jogged around the track as my mental stereo played "Rockaway Beach". I was on my third and final lap. I could see Ryan on the opposite side, about halfway done with his second. Gabriella was farther behind, just beginning her second lap and already slowing down. Not that there's anything wrong with the fact that she and Ryan are both barely passing PE, but it's pretty weird. Especially since Ryan can dance for hours on a stage lit with burning spotlights and… no… No, Gabriella could run when absolutely, terrifyingly necessary, but no other time.

I passed over the finish line and sat down beside Chad on one of the benches surrounding the track, mostly because my other choice was to sit next to Coach Warner and be taunted by someone who I probably couldn't take in a fight or the track team who… probably didn't want me next to them. Chad probably didn't either, which made the seating arrangement all the better.

He stared blankly at the runners, his elbows propped on his splayed thighs and his hands hanging loosely in between his legs as I carefully placed myself beside him. His lips were slightly parted as he took short, sharp breaths.

"Troy," he whispered so softly I first I thought I'd imagined it. "Troy!"

I followed his lead and continued to watch the other students.

"What?" I whispered, watching Gabriella as her pace slowed to a half-hearted jog.

But he said nothing more because Andy had just arrived. The redhead pushed me harshly off the bench so I landed hard on the grass. Chad said nothing about what he had just done and neither did Coach Warner. Coach Warner was too busy chewing out the other students and Chad was too busy being the "cool captain".

I did wonder why Chad had whispered to me though. It was… intriguing. Chad had outed me (albeit for the wrong thing) and told me I was a bad example of a captain. He looked slightly guilty as he chatted with the rest of the team and frequently glanced over at me as I chatted to Ryan and (very later on) Gabriella.

The torture of the nervous glances and screamed insults ended soon afterwards—thank God. I couldn't have withstood one more minute of it.

So I stood in the locker rooms—having just finished my shower—with a towel wrapped around my waist and began changing back into my clothes. I hummed under my breath as Chad began toweling off his hair near-by. Suddenly a loud bang resonated through the locker rooms. My head snapped right, in the direction of the sound, and Chad turned as well. I could hear loud, cruel sounding laughter but my legs wouldn't move. I just listened. Chad twinned my frozen position, his head turned towards the right, his legs stiff, his knees buckled.

"Stop it!" someone shouted weakly.

That voice triggered something in my mind. It was Ryan. They were hurting Ryan. Who 'they' were, I didn't know, but they were hurting him. My presented a plan to me, a distraction, something to get them away from Ryan.

Make yourself a spectacle.

I dug through my brain for a reasonably girly song and one floated up to the surface of my memory. It was a song I sang until my dad had to scream at me 'that I was a boy, not a girl and thus should not sing a song written for a girl'. I took a deep breath, switched off my reputation-saving gear inside my head (not that there was much to save), and opened my mouth to sing.

"Look at this stuff. Isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete? Would you think I'm a girl, the girl who has everything?"

Chad turned towards me with a perfect "what-the-hell-are-you-doing" expression his face. I grinned back and sang louder, trying to attract the attention of all the boys in the locker room.

"Look at this trove, treasures untold. How many wonders can one cavern hold? Looking around here you'd think 'Sure, she's got everything.'"

I'd gotten most of their eyes on me now. I raised my voice, my falsetto cracking slightly.

"I've got gadgets and gizmos aplenty. I've got whozits and whatzits galore. You want thingamabobs? I've got twenty," I heard the laughter stop in one of the other sections of the locker rooms. I grabbed Chad's hand and acted like he was Flounder. He gave a horrified expression in return. "But who cares? No big deal. I want more!"

There was a thick silence spreading over the room as I spread my arms and found myself getting just as into the act as I did when I was little.

"I wanna be where the people are. I wanna see, wanna see 'em dancing. Walking around on those—whatd'ya call 'em?" I flicked Chad on the nose and gave a high-pitched giggle. "Oh, feet"

I continued to sing, twirling occasionally, until two burly boys from the hockey team pounded in, dragging Ryan with them in a head. It took most of the song for them to turn up, which surprised me slightly, but I did my best not to show it. I smiled at them in as girlish a way as possible. The one who was holding Ryan dropped him in shock.

"When's it my turn? Wouldn't I love, love to explore that shore above. Out of the sea… Wish I could be… Part of that world," I looked at Chad in such a sincere look of sadness that he suddenly looked unsure of whether to comfort me or continue to stare at me with an appalled expression on his face. I noticed Ryan had slipped away sometime during that last chorus. Good for him.

"Can I help you?" I asked the pair, suddenly dropping back into my normal voice. They continued to just stand and stare at me like the rest of the locker room. I shrugged, finished getting dressed and left.

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So there you go. I had to include the bit with The Little Mermaid. I'm sorry, I love that song too much, plus I just re-watched that movie yesterday and was like 'I totally forgot how much I love this movie!' Anyway. Here are credits for all the songs I mentioned in good and proper order:

-The chapter title: "Poor Unfortunate Souls" by Pat Carroll (Ursula) from The Little Mermaid

-In the car to the grocery store: "Whistle for the Choir" by the Fratellis

-Running around the track in PE: "Rockaway Beach" by the Ramones

-In the locker rooms: "Part of Your World" by Jodi Benson (Ariel) from The Little Mermaid.

There you go! I just want to ask my readers: what's on your shuffle or in your CD collection or something? Just curious. Mine is mostly show tunes, pop, pop-rock, pop-punk and Disney pop/Princess songs.

Please review!

-OFsI