Disclaimer: I do not own Bully yo.
Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long to put up. It's not that it is very lengthy or anything; it just took me awhile to write. Lame high school drama has taken a hold of me because I got dumped, so that's been a pretty big distraction. Along with end of tri work also. I've been pretty down lately, so my mommy got me a kitty! ^-^ His name is Sheldon and he's so cute. I sneak up behind him and say really loudly "Hi I'm Sheldon!" and then he jumps. Adorable! …. yes, I am quite the nerd.
EvilChick101: Well I am sorry I made you anticipate a little bit longer than usual. ^-^ Your reviews fill me with happiness!
AmishGazebo: Thanks! It is an honor to make you happy. :3
A Boy Named Troy
Chapter Twelve
If only the two prep leaders had not been out taking a stroll the previous night. If only Derby did not see Kowalski and Smith. If only that vicious Northwick had not been approaching. If ifs were true, then Bif would not currently be sitting in an armchair across from his conspiring leader. Normally, the redhead would be overjoyed to share the warm, fireplace lit, sitting room alone with Derby, but something was churning in his usually iron stomach.
"This is a golden opportunity, ol' chap! We have got to devise a plan to get Hopkins and Vendrome." The blonde roamed back and forth, brandishing his arms as he roared.
Bif shifted uncomfortably in his maroon seat that was upholstered with some of the finest fabric that money could buy. Coincidentally, it wrinkled strangely when he rubbed his sweating palms against it. "I don't exactly see what they have done though."
Derby did not halt his pacing. "Simple, my friend. Both of those… of those… of those scoundrels insulted our noble class!" Tremblay would ask for his reasoning again, but could tell by the fire in his best friend's eyes that he wouldn't have to. "Jimmy has been treating us just like we are the same as all those other second-class citizens. Behind our backs he calls us weak and trust fund inbreds." Derby's steps grew quicker and quicker. "Gord's even worse." Suddenly, he stopped. His gaze narrowed down on Bif and the boxer began to squirm. "You will help me Bif, won't you? We cannot let injustices be done to the residents of Harrington House." Bif could not think of anything to say. He didn't exactly believe or understand Derby's reasoning, but he liked to think of himself as the protector of the preps. "After all," the blonde continued as of a result of Bif not answering. "I have done so much for you in the past."
The boxer then knew that he could not possibly let his friend down. "It would be my honor to help you." he nodded.
"Great!" Derby clapped his hands together. "I must ready myself for slumber now. Meet me in my private sitting room in an hour; I should be clothed again by that time."
Bif had no clue as to what to do with himself for the long, apprehensively quiet hour. There were no other preps sneaking around the still common areas. He was not sure where everyone could be; it was a Sunday night, so they should have been in bed or doing last minute homework. He knew where Pinky was though. Everybody did, even Derby.
Something in Bif wanted to cry out in disgust every time he was reminded of his leader's relationship. At first, he thought it had to do with the two sharing the same bloodline. People in his family did not date each other, unlike most of the other preps' relatives. He knew deep down that that was not all tugging at his insides when he was forced to watch the handsome blonde slide an arm around the harlot though. The boxer may have known exactly why he hated it so much, but was too timorous to full heartedly search for the answer. Even now, absentmindedly drifting around the empty house, only letting the realization waver on the edge of his concentration, he felt as if he could become sick at any moment.
`~***~`
Derby opened the ridiculously large double doors shortly after Bif's third grouping of knocks. The boxer was startled by his close friend's appearance, which was below normal standards and yet exceeded them at the same time. The blonde must not have had been quite ready, judging by the toothbrush that hung from his foam lined mouth, which he crudely cleaned off with the back of his hand. His hair and exposed skin were wet, probably having just stepped out from a shower. On his way to greet the redhead, Derby must have only felt he had enough time to slip into a lengthy pair of burgundy silk pajama bottoms. "My lord Bif!" the leader snapped, but the boxer was too distracted by the bare chest in front of him. Derby avoided working up a sweat at all costs, so how he had gotten his stomach as tight as he did was a mystery. Bif had a strange urge to feel the warm flat area under his fingers. "You should know better than to wait outside my door by now!" He craved to slowly trace every line. "You are always welcomed in, unless I am, you know, 'entertaining.' That has never really been a problem though; you're usually knowledgeable of my going-ons." Did Derby ever contemplate weird things about Bif? "Since when do you knock anyways?" Did he ever want to touch him, or were these ghastly thoughts housed by Bif alone? "Are you even listening to me?"
Bif shook into attention and quickly reprimanded himself mentally. "Of course. I am honored to be shown such trust by someone of your stature." Derby threw his hands up with exaggerated motions and began to walk back to his restroom, leaving the front door open for the boxer. "What the hell is wrong with me lately?" Bif scolded himself as he shut the doors behind him. "I've seen a shirtless Derby plenty of times." The blonde had been the one, after all, to teach Bif everything he knew about the noble sport of boxing. When they were said to be too young for the club by Harrington relatives who were in double-digit grades back when the two barely had double-digit ages, Derby would practice with the redhead in nothing but boxers. Times were better back then, when they could get away with such things accusation free.
"Have you given any thought to a plan?" Derby smoothly asked as he settled himself down into the chair just to the right of Bif's position at the table. It had taken another forty-five minutes for the blonde to ready himself completely and it was becoming the early hours of morning, but Bif was thankful that he was now wearing a shiny robe that covered the distracting body. Harrington was slouching somewhat and swiveled his wheeled seat back and forth with his heels.
"No, I have never been very good with plotting." he nervously chuckled out a reply.
Derby just nodded halfheartedly. It was quite obvious to the boxer that his leader was lost within his own thoughts, and it sort of made him… happy almost. From a young age, Derby had once complained secretly to him, all Harrington children were taught to always be alert and courteous in front of company. That meant that Derby then felt comfortable enough to break ingrained rules with Bif. "It must end with Hopkins losing Vendrome." Derby thoughtfully shared his view aloud after a few moments. Inattentively, he rubbed his chin. "That would be the only real punishment."
Bif cleared his throat, unable to hold back his urge to question the leader's logic. Derby frowned, knowing that he was going to be corrected by the only person on the planet that would dare. "I believe that breaking them up would hurt Vendrome ten times more than it would Hopkins." There was nodding, consideration, and then, finally, dismissal.
"We have all witnessed the downwards slope the king was racing down, have we not?" The boxer agreed, knowing exactly where this was going, but not wanting to ruin the blonde's moment by interrupting. "And you of all people should have noticed how close Hopkins has allowed Gord to get, especially since the expulsion from Harrington House." Bif tried not to show any signs of the startle this gave him. Lately, he had become most interested in observing the mismatched couple and the child. Had his friend noticed his absence? He would simply die if anyone had seen him pressed against a tree, straining to catch a glimpse of a now seemingly regular Saturday date. "If I am correct in my thinking, which is always the case, then there is a link between the relationship and the slowing of Jimmy's downfall."
"According to the nerds, the slope has leveled out and, at the rate of his recent improvement, he should be able to progress beyond his most successful times in a matter of weeks." Thankfully, Derby did not make the connection that he was not the only clique leader making the same calculations.
"What if he had some sort of a distraction from his ruling?"
"Well," the redhead gave a second's worth of time mulling it over. "I suppose it might stop any great improvements, but I do not think it would make him any worse than he was before Vendrome."
"Perfect." Derby grinned a most malicious smile. "If the relationship is shattered, then a weakened monarchy would surely fall beyond the point of repair." he laughed and shoved his body forward, leaning onto the table at an angle to Bif.
"They seem happy together."
"Northwick can change that." A well cared for hand ushered the redhead to also lean into their private huddle. "Here is what will happen: You will bring that yellow-haired pauper to his royal highness, but in secret. We will allow them to be together for a month or so, guarding Gord from any kind of knowledge about the affair. Jimmy will be so caught up in attempting to hide the scandal that he will begin to slip in his duties. Then we will spring the news of a cheating boyfriend on Gord, letting him explode and end everything!"
Even though Derby was ecstatic about his scheme, Bif had his doubts. "Who is to say that Jimmy would even be willing to go behind Gord's back?"
"That head boy, Peter or Pat or Dan, whatever his name, seemed to think that Hopkins would be interested. Vendrome cannot supply the king with the low class mentality that he needs."
"I suppose, but what if Jimmy just leaves Gord for Trent?"
Derby raised a plucked eyebrow and laughed. "I thought you said the two were happy together. Besides, every Bullworth student knows of Gord's… 'dramatic abilities.' Not even Hopkins would dare to face the wrath of a dumped Vendrome."
"What--" Bif started but was cut off by a Derby powerfully rising to his feet.
"Now now, no more what or buts Bif. My plan is solid, faultless. I need to retire soon, so will you assist me or not?"
The redhead also stood, his movements a little shaky compared to the other's. Despite the better part of him crying out against it, he answered, "Of course I will."
When Derby stood at his bedroom's doors, Bif was already resting his hand on the cool doorknob to exit. "Goodnight, Derby." he called, checking behind him at the blonde.
"You're a good man Bif, keeping tabs on those two without me even having to ask." The boxer quickly turned his face back towards the door, hiding a truthful blush. "Every day I feel thankful that I picked you up out of the dirt."