Author's Note: Sorry, guys, I had anonymous reviews disabled. They're now enabled! Thanks to Doc's Cowboy for pointing that out to me…enjoy the story!
Chapter Three"Hey Vern, look what I made!"
The moment he turned around, Vern knew he'd made a mistake. His cheek was met with a wooden paddle, followed by the roar of Teddy's laughter.
"Oh, man, you fall for that every time!" he howled. He twirled his poorly made paddle between his fingers, proud of himself for a joke that was getting pretty old by now.
Vern's cheeks flushed crimson. "You know, one day I'm going to get you back and you won't even know what to do!"
"Empty threats, bud, empty threats," sang Teddy, going back to his work. Machines buzzed and whirred all around them as students in goggles (well, except for Teddy, who claimed even Mighty Mouse himself couldn't knock his glasses off) tried to keep their fingers intact. Mr. Finnegan, their woodshop instructor, kept his legs propped up on the desk, occasionally barking out, "Watch it, watch it," when a student's hand got too close to being sawed off. Most likely, though, he kept his face buried in the newspaper.
"Man, I wonder what Gordie is up to…can you just imagine the guys he's hanging around with?" Teddy laughed. Vern didn't answer, still sore over the prank Teddy had just pulled. "I bet he's wearing a beret by now."
"Yeah, well, it's better than being here," Chris muttered, eyes trained on the piece of wood he was shaping with his tools. "Gordie's better than this."
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The English Composition class was held upstairs in a stuffy room that had desks arranged in a half circle around the teacher, Mrs. Hadley. A window was cracked open, but the humid, late summer air did little to refresh the students inside.
Mrs. Hadley paced in the center of the circle, her gauzy skirt grazing the linoleum. She had hair the color of honey, which was piled in messy curls on top of her head, and strings of beads hanging from her freckled neck. Gordie had never met anyone like her—she held the aura of a city girl, someone with far too much brains to be in a place like Castle Rock.
"I want you all to think of someone in your life who has had a major impact on you," she was saying softly. "Your next assignment is to write about him or her and show me how this person has affected you."
'Oh, geez, how corny,' he thought. Gordie didn't like to write cheesy, sappy stuff like that—he thought the best stories were ones that scared or shocked the shit out of someone, like the cheap detective novels he bought from Gringo's drugstore with his allowance.
"I hope you all have something written by our next class…remember, it's quality, not quantity. I'd rather have a paragraph filled with something meaningful than 5 pages worth of words that were just used to fill space. See you all tomorrow."
Gordie sighed in relief, grabbing his books. Thank god it was the last class of the day; he didn't know how much longer he could last at this place. He missed the familiarity of elementary school, of classrooms filled with the same old faces and lunch ladies who called you by name as they slapped gray beef stew on your tray.
"Hey Gord-o!"
Through the sea of students, who were bustling to their lockers and getting ready to head out the glass double doors of freedom, Gordie could make out a glimpse of Teddy's black-rimmed glasses through crowd. Chris and Vern were tagging closely behind.
"Oh, Gord-o, oh Gord-o…where art thou, dear Gord-o?" Teddy teased as Gordie came running up to them.
"Shut up, Teddy," Chris chimed in, although a smile was plastered on his face.
"I thinketh the lady doth protest too much," Teddy went on, never quite knowing when enough was enough. Gordie didn't care, though—he was finally going home and had enough change in his pockets for an ice cream soda at Gringo's.
A rush of stale, arid air smacked them in the face as they finally burst outside, beads of sweat forming on their upper lip before they even started walking. Vern suddenly stopped, squinting as he peered out in to the parking lot.
"Hey, Chris, is your brother picking you up or something?"
"No, why?"
"Look!"
Eyeball Chambers leaned against the hood of a car, most likely the one he'd stolen with his group of friends. He looked slightly nervous, hands shoved in to the pockets of his torn black denim jeans. When they approached closer, they could see Charlie and Billy in the backseat, grinning like two Cheshire cats. Ace Merrill was in the passenger seat, shades drawn over his eyes, appearing disinterested.
"Hey, boys!" Charlie called cheerily. "How was school today?" Billy snickered in suit.
Chris ignored him, looking his brother up and down. "What are you doing here?"
Eyeball merely shook his head. "Don't say I didn't tell you, man…I fucking warned you this would happen."
Ace carefully slid out of the car, idling over to them as a soft smile tugged at his lips. Vern hid, using Teddy and Chris as a human shield.
"Howdy, boys," Ace said, pausing to push his sunglasses to the top of his spiky blonde head. "Nice day, isn't it?"
"What do you want?" Gordie asked indignantly. He was growing tired of this shit, almost wishing they'd just beat the fuck out of them and let them be. "Whatever you want, just take it now."
Ace leaned closer, so close that Gordie could smell the cigarettes on his clothes and breath. "A big tough guy, huh La Chance? You don't seem so tough now without your gun now, do ya?"
Gordie could sense Chris stiffen, his hand forming in to a tight fist next to him. "Leave him alone, Merrill."
"And you," Ace said, his gray-green eyes focusing on Chris now, "have a lot of nerve doubting me. Did you really think I'd forget this whole mess, Chambers?"
"Fuck you, man," Chris whispered, his face ghost-white with rage.
"I'll give you a choice, Chambers," Ace went on, his voice raising a slight octave. "You guys give me Gordie real nice and quiet, then I'll let the rest of you go. But you mouth off one more time, my friends and me take all of you shits down, and believe me, you won't make the same mistake twice". He looked at him expectantly. "So, what's it going to be?"
"No way," Chris replied softly, not budging an inch.
"Chris, man, just let him have me," Gordie said, trying to sound as brave as he could muster. "I can fucking take him". Billy and Charlie hooted with laughter in the backseat.
"Gordie, shut up, he's not laying a hand on you," Chris shot back.
"Chris," Eyeball warned, getting ready to come between them, until Ace held a palm against his chest, never blinking.
"Well, you've made your choice then," Ace said, and before he could pull the switchblade out of his pocket, a teacher rushed up to them frantically.
"Hey, hey, what are you punks doing? Do you belong to this school?" he barked. Ace looked at him like he wanted to knife him on the spot, but held his tongue. He slipped his blade slyly back in to his pants.
"No, sir, we were just having a friendly conversation. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"
"Oh, he's lying! Throw his ass in jail," Teddy protested, suddenly growing balls in the presence of an adult who was there to protect them.
"This kid's crazy!" Ace laughed. "Dad's a nut up in Togas, what do you expect?" Although Ace was laughing, they could see his eyes had taken a sharper edge, bitter at the fact that he'd been stopped by them, not once, but twice now.
"I suggest you boys head off now before I alert the authorities…move it!" the teacher ordered. Ace nodded slowly, his eyes still trained on Chris.
"See you soon, Chris," he said. He made his way reluctantly to the car, and Eyeball too got behind the wheel, never once looking at his brother. They gunned it out of the parking lot, spitting up gravel in their wake.
"You kids get home now…go on," the teacher coaxed, his tone a bit more sympathetic than he'd had with the Cobras.
"We're going, we're going," Teddy exclaimed. They began shuffling off, legs still quaking with nerves, and Gordie was sure he'd hurl right in the bushes. He held his throat tight, trying to save the embarrassment of revealing his lunch to his best friends. Instead, he began talking to try and keep the puke at bay.
"Chris, what the hell…I could've just done it, man," he stammered. "Now we're in even deeper shit than we were before."
"Yeah, but Gordie, he would've killed you," Vern hushed. They paused at the corner where they usually parted ways, staring at one another. No one was quite sure how to make any of this easier.
"Gordie, you know he wasn't going to let any of us go like he said," Chris said quietly, "Ace Merrill never lets anyone forget they've wronged him. And I'm not throwing you out there just to save my ass."
"I could've done it," he insisted, not meeting his friend's eyes.
"Well, I'm not going to let you," Chris snapped. He softened when he saw Gordie's lip tighten in to a straight line of anger, and he offered his palm. "Skin it, man."
Gordie couldn't really stay pissed at Chris—he knew he'd only been looking out for him, just like he always does. "Alright, but next time I'm not holding back, Chris. Ace can't scare us anymore," he said, sliding his palm against his friend's more calloused hand.
Chris smiled. "Ok, deal," he agreed, although he knew deep down he'd never let anyone lay a hand on his friends without putting up a fight. "Now, let's go to Gringo's…I'm fucking thirsty."