Disclaimer: I do not own Bully.

A Boy Named Troy

Chapter Seven

The air stuffed inside the singlewide trailer tasted stale. Was it from the fact that the resident was barely allowed the sanctity of home, or just the natural scent of the smoggy community? Petey silently pondered over this as he leaned forward onto his knees, panting slightly. Naturally being full of empathy, he felt sorrow for his scarred friend. It was hardly fair that he had to be born with problems. It was even less just that he would forever be marked an outcast it seemed, all from a single mistake. If only he had stayed on his medication.

Smith and Kowalski had met three years before Hopkins had even heard of Bullworth. Pete was shy, a result of being an only child with no cousins around his age or even a pet. At his public school kids tended not to even bother poking fun at him, basically deeming him nonexistent. When he was led into the boy's dorm for the first time by an annoyed prefect, Gary was there in the common room, playing chess by himself on a table that would later be destroyed by Russell. The timid, pathetic excuse for a male had not seen the unstable boy glance up, but he still greeted him with, "Just what this school needs, a femme boy." It was not the politest thing that anyone had ever said about him, but at least he'd given Petey the thing he needed most. Acknowledgement.

Gary was currently passed out behind Pete on the bed. The long-limbed genius laid on his back, right foot twitching, mouth open. Petey sighed. Since the beginning of summer, Gary had been working six day weeks at some low-end factory. He wasn't completely sure about what the taller one did, but, staring down at his barely clothed form, he saw that it was leaving him bruised and thin. From what Kowalski was told, Gary would eat, take his morning dosage of medication, go to work, come home, check to see if he called, and then eat his dinner with his night dosage. He had mentioned that it made him drowsy, but he had not imagined it would be that intense. Gary had only fallen asleep so fast on their first night together.

Petey rose off the edge of the large bed that was trapped in a small room. It took a moment or two of searching, but he eventually found his khaki pants and began to pull them on. They were about halfway up his thighs when a groggy voice caught him in the awkward bent position he was in. "What do you think you're doing femme?" Gary had called him that for such a long time that it eventually became somewhat of a pet name, much to Petey's discontentment.

"I'm getting dressed." He finished putting them on and could then be considered fully clothed. The smaller boy in a stained rose sweater hobbled over to stand by his lover's bedside. Even half awake, Gary could be considered near violent whenever he had the chance to release any passion. Wearing a shirt at all times was a lessen he picked up very quickly after being covered in bite marks (some of which drew blood) the first few times.

"Why?" His eye that was blanketed with a scar was partially open, but his other remained shut. The head boy wondered whether it was by choice or not. Gary's hand sluggishly slapped against Pete's stomach and dragged down to the button of his waistband. The genius managed to slip his fingers between the warm skin and tan cloth, but seemed unable to do much more than let it lie there. "Dammit Petey!" It was sad to hear his mighty roar be dwindled down to a confused sounding mew. "If you hadn't had made me take them, I'd…" for a split second he drifted off. "I'd be able to…"

"Yeah, I know." He took a quick peek at the obnoxiously bright red numbers on a nightstand's alarm clock. It was a little past seven. Jimmy had only left about an hour ago. Petey was surprised that the natural blonde had stayed so long after the gore-filled movie that Kowalski had only seen between peeks that the three of them went to after a cheap fast-food lunch. He hadn't imagined that Jim would behave so well, only remarking bitterly about the past a few times. The two strong people had done most of the talking. Jimmy filled Gary in about the inside information on the cliques and, in return, was entertained by the brunette's horror stories of Happy Volts. "I have to get going."

"For your ersatz position? They're not going to miss you on a weekend night." Petey took a step back and let Gary's hand slip and loudly hit against the side of the bed frame.

"I'll try calling you tomorrow. You only work half days on Sunday, right?" They both knew that this fact was well installed inside Kowalski's head. He had only asked it to prolong his stay. It was hard to hear people smear the name of a hard working individual all day long. It was even harder to go without hearing his clear fearless voice though, too bad it would no longer sound that way again until the morning. "Goodbye."

As he turned to leave, Gary stopped him. "Hey Femme Boy?"

Pete only turned his head back towards the watered-down version of his best friend. "What?"

"Thanks for getting big bad Jim to talk to me again."

"Yeah, no problem." He smiled shyly and waved one hand. "I thought you hated him. What changed your mind?"

"We're a well oiled machine Petey." Gary smirked and attempted to push his lengthening hair out of his face. "I'm always going to be the brains- no matter what kind of menial shit they've got me doing- and Hopkins is the psychotic strength."

"Oh…" He hid a sigh. Once again, he was the one left out. All he seemed to be good for was running their errands.

"And you," Gary continued, catching his smaller friend by surprise. "You're the commonsense that keeps everything together."