Disclaimer: I do not own the game Bully or any of its characters. *insert lame joke about wanting to here*
Author's Note: I'm sorry if I add too much in these notes. I always like reading them in other's stories, so I thought I'd make my own. Anyways, right now in my story everything is really boring and there's very little contact between the characters. I'm still getting used to not writing in first person, so it's sort of hard for me to get the point across about who's view the chapter is in. I promise that things will pick up.
EvilChick101: Thank you so much for the sweet review! You're my first reviewer ever (and this is my first fic, so that makes it that much better). It was pretty awesome to read one after only one day of my story being on here. :3
A Boy Named Troy
Chapter Two
Jimmy had always been impulsive. It was what caused him to say his name was Jimmy, not Jim or James, back in second grade, and also caused him to be kicked out of every school but Bullworth. Yet another result was him spilling all that mushy crap to Zoe.
Maybe if the great Hopkins was only rash things would work out better. But nope, the best thing was never the case. Jimmy would do things, take his name for example, and would later regret to his very core that he demanded he be called a name that would forever install the image of a small dorky kid into people's minds. People told him that he always got cold feet. That's what Zoe said, right before she dumped his ass for a greaser. A real man that would never change his mind.
Now what was left was a mess of what used to be Jimmy Hopkins. Jim avoided making any decisions he didn't have to, afraid that he would pick wrong again. Kids started to notice the change in their King that summer, after he was single again. They wouldn't dare say anything within earshot of him though; he may have been wary of making big choices in his own life, but that didn't mean he wouldn't still kick your ass.
The first thing that came to Jimmy's mind was to scoff and so he did (not every ounce of impulsiveness could be sucked out of him). "Our bed? I believe I won this room when I beat your pansy assed clique last year." He left Gord standing by the door and joined the kid on the bed, dropping the snacks from his arms. Pop loudly crushed the chips.
"That is not the point!" The preppie argued in a whiny tone, making Jimmy cringe, embarrassed to be seen with such a pathetic excuse for a man, even if only by a young kid. "You're not into children, are you?!"
"You're an idiot." He ripped open a red and orange bag of chips that were apparently so spicy 'they make the sun look like Antarctica!' After bringing a few of the square chips to his own mouth, he offered the bag to the kid. The boy only took one and slowly ate it with small bites.
Gord pressed on impatiently. "Then who is he?"
"I dunno, a new kid this year. Saw him a few times and decided to take him under my wing, you know, so there's someone to keep the cliques playing nice when I'm gone."
"That's your protégé?!" the rich brunette sputtered, openly gaping.
"My wha?"
"You cannot seriously choose him!"
Jimmy was becoming irritated. "Why not?"
"Just look at it!"
During the entire time the two older boys were going back and forth, the short third grader kept quite, occasionally munching chips. Jimmy was now standing, trying to stare down his slightly taller wealthy friend. A glance back at the kid told him that the boy had not moved from his hunched position in the middle of the dirty mattress. His pale legs were tucked under him, navy shorts pushed up a little past his knees. Jimmy couldn't see what Gord was talking about. The kid seemed normal enough, a little scrawny but normal. He had blonde hair that went to the top of his ears. Even at a young age, a couple of pimples could be seen growing on his forehead and cheeks. Jimmy just thought that was probably from not being very clean; the kid seemed kind of greasy and had a minor stench. It wasn't his fault though; from the very very few conversations they had shared, Jimmy had learned that the boy basically raised himself while his mom was out.
"I don't see anything wrong with him. Kinda reminds me of himself." Jimmy announced, feeling strangely proud of the kid.
"Is that why you chose him?" Gord asked with a slight sigh. He was giving up his argument against the decision. Hopkins slowly walked over to his poker table that was missing all chips and most cards. He grabbed a chair and tottered back, putting it down near Gord, facing the bed.
"Nah, I felt bad for the little thing." The protector of the school noticed the strange look that Gord gave the kid as he sat straightly into the chair. Jimmy also settled back down on the corner of the mattress. "Few days ago, I caught Pedro picking on him. Pedro!"
"So you brought him here?"
"Thought he could stay here until he toughens up enough to be on his own in the dorms." For some reason, Gord looked upset at that. "Says he likes the beach." he explained, trying not to get the prep worked up.
There was a long pause in conversation. "Does he have a name?"
"I call him Troy." This really seemed to stab a splinter in Gord. The preppie did classless move of openly pulling his eyebrows downwards in a tight glare. Quickly, Jimmy threw in, "I thought it fit him when I picked it out."
"Jimmy!" A shiny nailed hand came down forcefully on Hopkins' ratty jeaned knee. "You cannot simply rename a person!"
"Why not! His real name's lame as hell." he laughed at it. "Lawford! Who calls their kid that?"
"I like that name."
Jimmy rolled his eyes. "Of course you do, but he doesn't have the cash to back it up."
It wasn't 'til nearly half an hour later before Troy finally spoke. Jimmy was busy behind the bar, storing the pop in the mini-fridge. He had left Gord and the kid on the other side of the room, in awkward silence. Stiffly, like a dried up corpse, Gord was sitting, straightening wrinkles on his pants that didn't exist. Troy now had his legs dangling over the side on the bed. He was wearing an oversized Bullworth sweater vest. "You know, you could actually try talking to him, Gord." Jimmy called over his shoulder, casually throwing something that was once food into the corner of the room, to make room for the dark colas.
"Hello…Troy." He seemed to not even want to say the name. "My name is Gord. I am Jimmy's boyfriend."
Instantly, Jimmy paled and tightened his muscles. He shot up from off the cluttered ground where he'd been kneeling, grabbing the top of the decaying bar to steady himself. "No I'm not!" Denying was easy. It was so easy that it had become a natural reaction to Jimmy. You see, going out with Gord would be one of those big personal decisions that he hated so much. Most of him didn't want to be tied down to the prep, but it'd be hard to say that not all of him was completely against it. But for now, he was content with the little routine they were doing.
"Yes, you are." Gord calmly corrected. Jimmy kicked the dirty refrigerator door close and stumbled through the mess back to the other two.
"No." He muttered under his breath once he got next to the preppie.
Gord smirked, "I believe you are."
"Then you're wrong"
An airy voice, much unusual for a boy, interrupted the 'couples' bickering. "Gord?"
The rich teen had risen off the chair. Troy had caught him just before retorting, leaving Gord to glance down with his mouth unbecomingly open.
"Y-Yes?"
"I don't like you very much."
Jimmy hooted madly, actually having to wipe a tear away from his eye. "God I love that kid!" Troy shyly laughed with his protector, more for imitation than anything else.
"You're going to let him get away from that?!"
"Get over yourself!" Jimmy looped an arm around Gord's shoulders and crushed the prep into his body. Suddenly, Gord didn't seem to mind being treated badly by a mere pauper.