Disclaimer: I have no delusions about owning or holding rights over Newsies, you shouldn't either. Don't sue.
Also, any pop culture references...guess what? Don't own those either. Actually...anything that you may have heard of and/or recognized in this story is owned by someone who isn't me.
Warning: Updates may (and probably will be) slow.
This contains SLASH, in other words same sex couples. If this doesn't appeal to you, you shouldn't be here.
Summary of Chapter Ten:
-Spot meets Slingshot's cousin Swifty
-Racetrack's mom discovers her son gambles
-David and Specs got into a big fight
-Bumlets farther explained what happened when he slept with a guy
-Jack comes over to Bumlet's house early, causing everyone else to scurry home
-Dutchy and Spes meet and Specs agonizes over his problems with David
-Dutchy invites Specs to eat lunch with him and his friends so that Specs can successfully avoid David a little longer
Getting Back Together Again
XI
Spot's Gay
"So you'll try and be a little nicer to him?" Slingshot asked his boss, not quite believing that he would no matter what he said.
They were both sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for Gadget to announce that Spot's bike was done so that Spot could go to school. The only reason Slingshot was here was to make sure he wouldn't have to drive Spot there himself.
"You should be glad I'm not kicking your ass right now," Spot replied, "Do you realize how dangerous it was to bring someone I go to school with over here? If I had known the risks I would have never allowed it. What if he gets suspicious? Are you so hung up in family shit that you've forgotten how to protect the people who look out for you?"
"He's family, Spot," Slingshot tried to explain, "Surely you can understand how important family is. I was completely shunned by them until Swifty came along. At least try to put yourself in my shoes."
"Don't try that 'blood is thicker than water' crap with me," Spot warned. "'Family' is just a group of people forced together hoping to make the most of it. We're family, Sling, not some pussy who didn't even know you existed until a couple of days ago."
"Really?" Slingshot asked, taken aback, "I mean…I never knew that you considered me family. I…I had no idea. Honestly…in some weird way…well…I'm really touched."
"I don't," Spot argued, "I'm saying this for your benefit. If you want a family you've got one right here. If it's between that and searching around for DNA that is close to yours I'd rather have the former."
"Well…you just ruined that affectionate moment," Slingshot pointed out. "Though I can't say I'm too surprised. Family isn't important to you, friends aren't important to you…what is?"
"Brooklyn," Spot shrugged, looking at Slingshot as if the answer was obvious…and in all actuality it was.
"That's it? A place?" Slingshot asked, "That's all that keeps you running? You aren't normal, Boss-man."
"It's not just a place," Spot retorted, "It's symbolic."
"Symbolic for what?" Slingshot asked, knowing that if he didn't get an answer now he never would. Somehow for some reason Spot was truly being open…to some extent anyway. It was shocking, to say the very least.
"Motorcycle has been upgraded," Gadget announced happily, walking into the room they all used for a kitchen with a proud hop in his step. "I upped the speed by about twenty-five miles, though the speedometer doesn't go that high. I can probably get a new one if you want, but we don't have any of those lying around so it'll take some more time."
Slingshot sighed in loss, quite angry at Gadget for ruining the moment. He'd have to talk to the fourteen-year-old about knocking whenever he came into a room…or explain to him that he just couldn't come near Spot when he was talking to him.
"It's fine," Spot assured, "When I'm going that fast I doubt I'll care about the actual speed anyway. Good job, Gadget."
"Thank you sir," Gadget beamed, looking more like a young teen when he did that.
Slingshot seemed to have lost his anger at that. Seeing the two of them together reminded him of a father and son pair, even though Spot was only three years older than Gadget.
"Is there anything else?" Gadget asked, hoping to have a chance to prove himself yet again, thus getting even more praise.
"You've been busy lately, haven't you?" Spot asked. "You can take a break if you want, just be on call. Think of it as a congratulations present for all the hard work you've been putting in."
Gadget beamed again before racing off, most likely searching for his friends in order to brag to them that he had gotten a 'congratulations present' from Spot; that had rarely ever happened.
"So you don't have any more goals at all, right? …If you've already got Brooklyn and you don't want anything else," Slingshot said, jumping back to their previous conversation in the hopes of salvaging it.
"Yep," Spot agreed, returning to his normal, closed-mouth self.
"So what keeps you running? …Living the day without offing yourself?" Slingshot asked, trying one more time.
"Don't know," Spot answered in what was most probably a lie before walking out the door.
"Wait," Slingshot called after him, trying once again even though he knew at this point he probably wouldn't get anything. "So if we're all a family…what does that make you and me? Brothers?"
Spot shrugged, "If you want."
"Wake the fuck up," Bumlets demanded, shoving Jack away from him. "It's bad enough I had to sleep in the same bed as you, now you won't even get up? You sure as hell better be delirious if you think I'm going to let you hang out here while I go to school."
Jack mumbled a little before turning over.
"Get your fat ass out of my bed," Bumlets shouted even though he wasn't all that irritated. He shoved his foot on the curve of Jack's back, effectively knocking the other boy off the bed.
"Ow," Jack's muffled voice complained. "What am I doing on the floor?"
"Getting ready to go to school," Bumlets explained, swinging his legs over the bed and going directly into the shower.
"Hey! What am I going to do until you get out of the shower? I could've slept another twenty minutes!" Jack shouted, angry at being woken up earlier than he had to be.
"Make breakfast," Bumlets suggested, "It's the least you can do for sleeping on me all night. You know where everything is."
"What? How come I'm the one that has to make breakfast? I need a shower too, you know," Jack called back, not really waiting for an answer before heading into the kitchen.
"Hey Bumlets…er…I mean Jack," Dutchy greeted as he walked in through the front door that led right into the kitchen. "You know, it's Bumlets who usually makes breakfast for all of us."
"I know," Jack growled, being on the other end of Bumlets' breakfasts practically every day.
"I don't think you're up to it," Dutchy cautioned. "Bumlets' cooking is like food laced with LSD; you can't top that."
"He had to take a shower," Jack explained around the wooden spoon that was in his mouth. His hands were busy getting pots and pans out of another cabinet.
"What are you making?" Dutchy asked in curiosity. "Whatever it is you're eating it before I do."
"Eggs," Jack answered, dropping the spoon onto one of the counters. "I can't mess up eggs…right?"
"Just what kind of eggs are you making?" Dutchy replied, "Because I don't ever remember making eggs in a pot that big. I think what you're looking for is a skillet."
Jack growled in frustration, "Help me with this, would ya? I've never made breakfast before."
"Never?" Dutchy asked, reluctantly putting the pots and pans away before he got out a skillet and a whisk. "Wow…are you serious? Why not?"
"No house, remember?" Jack asked. "No house, no kitchen, no breakfast; the concept's pretty easy to understand…or so I thought."
"Yeah, yeah," Dutchy brushed off, pretty much making the eggs himself by now. "I already have Skittery and Itey making fun of me at every turn," he pointed out while cracking an egg one-handed, "I don't need you to join in too."
The front door opened again, this time producing Skittery. "Morning, Stupid," he greeted, "Morning, Dutch."
"Wow," Dutchy marveled, finally done emptying the egg shells, "I think that this is the first morning ever you didn't call me by an insulting name when you greeted me. Am I dying or something?"
"That one's just as clichéd as the last, Moron," Skittery pointed out. "Find some better material, would you? The complete and total lack of originality is not a friend of mine."
"Whose friend?" Bumlets asked, emerging from the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist.
"Mine," Skittery replied, not really explaining anything to Bumlets.
"Ah, I see," Bumlets lied before going into his bedroom to get some clothes.
"I'm taking a shower," Jack announced, leaving the eggs to Dutchy (he wasn't really helping anyway and he wasn't going to go out of his way to pretend he was).
"Just hurry up," Dutchy demanded. "Breakfast is almost done, which means Itey's almost herre which means our ride to school will almost begin, which means school will almost start."
"That was a terrible run-on sentence, Dutchy," Bumlets scolded, walking out of his bedroom now fully clothed. "All we're eating is eggs? At least make some toast or something."
"Make your own toast," Dutchy demanded, "I'm already busy with making your breakfast."
"Dutch…I always make breakfast and everyone always seems to finish off everything before I've even finished it. Not only that, but I also take suggestions. Now, I think I can have at least one break every once in awhile, don't you agree?" Bumlets explained with a warning look.
"Fine, fuck, fine," Dutchy replied in irritation, "I'll make the fucking toast. Jesus, what are you? A slave driver or something?"
"Is the food done yet?" Itey asked, walking through the front door and sniffing the air. He wrinkled his nose as soon as he saw Dutchy at the stove. "Why's Dutchy cooking? He'll never be able to top anything Bumlets has made."
"Shut up," Dutchy snapped in irritation.
"Well?" Itey asked, eating the eggs even though they weren't yet deemed 'ready'. "Are we going or what?"
"Yeah, look…I am sorry about all of this," Racetrack apologized to Blink and Mush as soon as he met them in the school parking lot. "I mean…I know you both hate driving and I can't believe my mom didn't even let me call either of you last night."
"Calm down," Blink demanded, "We have more problems than just driving. You aren't allowed to hang out with us any more? Why?"
"My mom found some of my gambling tickets," Racetrack tried to explain without letting his shame at his action get in the way, "Then, of course, she decided that the best course of action would be to blame you two. After that…she declared that I couldn't see you guys ever again."
"Shit," Blink cursed, "And we can't even hang out at school because your mom's here too. So? What are you planning to do?"
"I don't know," Racetrack lied, not wanting to confess to his friends that he was planning on going to Sean for help. "But I'm sure I'll think of something. Until then it looks like the parking lot at the school is the only place we can talk."
"Don't risk it," Mush warned, "You should probably do what your mom says for now. I can't imagine that making her even angrier is a good idea. Blink and I will steer clear of you for now. Don't try to talk to us unless you come up with something and need our help."
"Yeah," Blink agreed. "And we'll try to come up with something too, alright?"
"With all of us working on it a solution has to come up, right?" Mush asked.
"Of course, Mush," Racetrack assured, "I'm sure we'll figure out what to do in no time.
"So do you know what your mom's going to do? I mean…it sounds insane but I don't think that you not being able to hang out with us any more is going to be your only punishment," Blink said.
"She hasn't said anything to me yet," Racetrack answered, "But she was talking to my father last night and you know how he is with gambling. There's no doubt that he'll throw in some more conditions to the punishment."
"Any idea what he'll do?" Blink asked, knowing that he was probably not going to be talking to Racetrack again anytime soon.
"I'll probably be grounded for all of eternity," Racetrack groaned, looking completely lost and so unlike himself in that moment. "I'm in such shit right now."
"Hey, don't worry," Mush tried to persuade, attempting to turn everyone's thoughts more optimistic. "I know it seems really bad right now, but I'm sure you'll get through it. And Blink and I will be pulling for you anyway we can…even if we can't physically hang out with you anymore."
"Thanks guys," Racetrack smiled.
"Hey Sean," Itey greeted as soon as he saw the other boy leaning against the usual wall. "Weird. Are we late or are you early?"
"I'd say a little bit of both," Swifty answered, bringing everyone's attention to him.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Skittery asked, glaring at Swifty. "Don't tell me you still want to be friends. Jesus…not only are you annoyingly persistent, but you're also annoyingly friendly."
"I'm hanging out with Sean," Swifty smirked, as if he had just won the argument. "But if you don't want me here I guess Sean and I can always go hang out somewhere else."
"First, I'm not going anywhere," Sean spoke up, "Second, everybody shut the fuck up because you're ruining my cigarette. If you can't get along either don't talk to each other or try and kick the other's ass. Jesus…how hard is that?"
"It's not that I don't like them," Swifty tried to explain, "It's just that when I tried to talk to them yesterday they just shot me down without even letting me explain why I did what I did."
"Oh, shut up," Skittery demanded, "This isn't an episode of Full House. Just because you explain why you did something isn't going to make me forgive you. It doesn't change the fact that you did it."
"Exactly," Itey backed up.
"I'm sorry," Swifty tried, "It's just that…"
"Apologies don't change the fact it happened either," Bumlets pointed out.
"What is it you want me to do?" Swifty asked, feeling irritated, "Nothing will change the fact that I did it."
"Right," Dutchy answered, nodding his head. "I think that's the point."
"No offense, Sean, but I'd rather have my cigarette where the air doesn't reek of dumb ass," Skittery said, beginning to walk away.
"And I'd like to have mine where the air reeks of hot ass," Itey explained, following right behind Skittery.
"I'll stay," Bumlets decided, taking out a cigarette. "I have no doubt those two are going to smoke in Itey's car where I have a feeling they're going to decide fucking is a good idea…whether I'm there or not."
"Ew…good point," Dutchy replied, taking out a cigarette as well, "I'd rather stay here too."
"So does that mean I can talk to you guys without getting my head bitten off?" Swifty asked.
"Don't count on it," Bumlets confessed. "Something about you just makes me want to crush your spirit…even more so than with Dutchy."
"You want to crush my spirit?" Dutchy asked, looking worried and upset.
"Just a little," Bumlets admitted, "I try not to, but you make it so easy it's incredibly difficult."
"Hey! Sean!" Racetrack's voice cut through, "I need you. I mean…I need to talk to you…right now."
"Something that couldn't have waited until first period?" Spot asked, looking down at his half-smoked cigarette. "You're not going to make me give up my cigarette," he warned, "Nothing's that important."
"True addict personality," Bumlets pointed out, the only person seemingly calm about Racetrack's presence.
"It's fine, we can stay out here and you can still smoke and everything but…I need to talk to you alone for a minute," Racetrack bargained.
Spot looked around, debating whether to actually go or not. "Rate the importance on a scale of one to ten; ten being the highest," he commanded, "because I'm not going to leave for just some stupid little problem."
"Ten," Racetrack answered without hesitation, "A big ten…an eleven even. Please…just come with me, okay?"
Spot rolled his eyes. "Jesus, fine. But if it turns out your problem is something like you need to copy off my homework or your newest crush doesn't want to speak to you…you can't even imagine how pissed I'm going to be," Spot finally agreed before following Race without putting out his cigarette.
"So what happened to your gay test?" Bumlets asked Dutchy as soon as Spot and Racetrack were out of hearing range. "I would've bet my house you'd start asking Sean questions as soon as you saw him today.
"Shit," Dutchy cursed. "I can't believe I forgot."
"What test?" Swifty asked with curiosity.
"He made up this test to determine if Sean's gay or not," Bumlets answered, "It has the most ridiculous questions you have ever heard on it."
Swifty laughed. "Sean's not gay. There's no fucking way in hell. My cousin's friends with him and told me all these stories about him. Believe me, the guy's gotten more pussy than you could ever imagine."
"No," Dutchy replied, looking crushed, "It's all crap; I won't believe it. Or maybe he's just in denial and sleeping around to prove that he's straight. Or maybe your cousin's just making up stories. Or…or…he slept with guys and told your cousin they were girls."
"He's straight," Swifty assured, "I'd put twenty bucks on it."
"I'm in," Dutchy replied, "Twenty bucks he's gay."
"I know I'm probably going to regret this," Bumlets said when they both turned to him, "But I'm going to throw my support to Dutch and toss in twenty for Spot being gay."
Dutchy beamed, "Thanks Bumlets! You're the best friend a guy could ever have!"
"What's this stupid problem?" Spot asked as soon as he and Racetrack were in the middle of the parking lot. "It better be fucking intense," he warned before taking a hit of his cigarette.
"My mom found out about the fact that I gamble," Racetrack confessed, looking worried.
"So?" Spot asked, "What the hell do you want me to do about it? It's not my problem. Fuck, I thought you were going to tell me you accidentally let my profession slip. Your problems are a seven at the very most."
"You don't know my mom," Racetrack insisted, "And you don't know my dad. Please believe me when I say that they're going to kill me. I mean, they are going to absolutely and utterly kill me."
"You shouldn't have done it if the risk was so high," Spot shrugged. "God, why did you even bother telling me? I don't have anything to do with this. Deal with it yourself."
"I don't know how," Racetrack confessed. "And the only one of my friends my mom has ever even remotely listened to his you. I've thought my hardest and I haven't come up with anything. Please, Sean, you've got to at least tell me how to get through this."
"Lay down and take your punishment like a man," Spot answered in all seriousness, deciding to ignore the 'friends' comment for now. "If it gets too bad you can always just leave."
"And go where?" Racetrack asked. "They're my parents, Sean, I can't just take off. They'll worry about me. Plus, they can always just call the police and make me come back."
"I can send one of my boys to kill them for you," Spot suggested.
Racetrack's eyes widened. "Are you serious? No! What don't you get about the fact that they're my parents! …My parents, Sean."
"Am I going to have to listen to more I-love-my-family crap? Because I don't really think I can stand any more of that this morning," Spot answered in irritation.
"I'm asking for your advice," Racetrack pointed out. "What would you do in my situation?"
"I wouldn't ever be in your situation," Spot replied. "What'd you do? Leave your gambling tickets lying around?" he asked, knowing he was right when Race just looked at the ground. "It's a stupid, dumbass, amateur move and I wouldn't ever be so idiotic as to do that to myself."
"Sean, please, please help me," Racetrack pleaded, his voice cracking a bit, "You're the only even sliver of a possibility I have to make my mom let up on me. I can't hang out with Blink and Mush anymore and that's the rule she gave me without even thinking about my actual punishment."
"I told you my help was a one time thing," Spot answered with a sigh, "You're too much work. Plus, you're the one that gets yourself into these messes; why the hell do you always want my help getting out? It's not my job."
"I didn't even ask for your help last time though," Racetrack pointed out.
"But you agreed to the terms," Spot reminded him. "What did I say? I said 'this is the last time.' Didn't I? You agreed to that."
"But I didn't know this was going to happen!"
"It doesn't matter," Spot insisted before smashing his cigarette under his foot. "I hope you're happy; your whining just completely ruined my smoke break. As if I haven't had enough problems this morning."
"You want something out of it?" Racetrack asked, getting desperate because he had put all his hope in Spot helping him. "All give you whatever I have. Name it and it's yours."
Spot narrowed his eyes, "You're in no way desperate enough to make that type of deal."
"I am," Racetrack assured him, "Whatever you want."
"Please," Spot scoffed, "You don't even know what you're saying. What if I want you to kill someone for me? …Or if I want to recruit you? You possess more than just things. Obviously you aren't the best haggler around. I'll give you some advice: don't even think you can bargain with me and come out on top because you won't even come out even."
"My friends are important to me," Racetrack insisted in a now-calm voice, "My mom's a teacher, meaning I can't even hang out with them at school. I meant what I said: whatever you want."
"You're an idiot, but I appreciate your balls…even if I don't understand what would make you want to risk so much," Spot admitted, "I'll do it, but if you're so sure you're willing to trade in anything and everything you have then I think I'll name my price later."
"Deal," Racetrack agreed, smiling from the weight that came off his shoulders even as a new one made its appearance. He felt worried about the entire 'I'll name my price later' thing, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. He and Sean…they were sort of friends, right? Sean wouldn't make him do anything too bad, right? Right.
"Get your ass to first period," Spot demanded as he hopped onto his motorcycle that was parked close to where they were talking.
"You aren't coming?" Racetrack asked, a little taken aback.
"With all the work you just gave me to do?" Spot asked. "I usually just kill the people in my way…it'll be a new experience trying to convince people to do what I want. I have to go prepare."
"Hey," Dutchy greeted Specs for what was probably the first time as soon as he entered first period.
"Hey," Specs replied uncertainly, caught off guard. "Wait," he commanded as Dutchy started walking towards his assigned seat.
"Yeah?" Dutchy answered, stopping where he was a turning around.
"I have second period with David," Specs confessed, "What should I do?"
Dutchy looked confused for a minute, bemused as to why Specs was asking him that question. "Uh…ignore him? I don't really know; I've never been in any type of situation even remotely like yours before."
"But I don't know what to say," Specs complained. "I mean, what are you supposed to say to a friend that has a crush on you when you don't like him back? And…and he's a guy; it's just embarrassing."
"You do realize I'm gay, right?" Dutchy asked, sitting down in a seat next to Specs. "I think I have at least a little right to be offended by what you're saying."
"Well…but I mean…you're not gay gay," Specs tried to explain, "You're just…you know…gay."
"There's only one kind of gay," Dutchy pointed out. "Well…unless you count bisexual…but since I'm not I'm the same type of 'gay' as David is; the-attracted-to-guys kind."
"But you don't have a crush on me," Specs told him, "I mean…wouldn't you feel violated if a girl had a crush on you?"
"No," Dutchy admitted, "I'd feel…happy I guess. Boy or girl doesn't really matter. I mean, I wouldn't do anything with her, but I'd be flattered that she found me attractive. I don't think the fact that David has a crush on you is the problem. I think you're just uncomfortable around gays."
"That's unfair," Specs complained. "I'm talking to you, aren't I? And you're…uh…you know…"
"Yeah, see, that's the thing," Dutchy pointed out. "I don't think you really think of me as gay. You said so yourself, remember? I'm not 'gay gay', right? I'm not really all that offended or anything; I just think you should be more honest with yourself."
"I'm not looking for you to psychoanalyze me," Specs snapped, "I asked you for advice, not therapy."
"Fine," Dutchy answered, getting up from his seat, "Sorry I stepped out of place."
"Wait, I'm sorry, okay?" Specs replied. "It's just that the last thing I was expected was to be called a homophobe. I mean, I'm not…there's no way."
"Right," Dutchy responded going over to his seat across the room.
"Are you still mad?" Specs asked. "Sit back down."
"Class is going to start soon," Dutchy explained, "And I really don't want to have the teacher yelling at me before the period even starts. You're still sitting with us at lunch, right?"
"Yeah," Specs agreed with a smile, happy to know that at least Dutchy didn't hate him.
Racetrack wandered into his second period, somehow even more miserable than when his mom had found his betting tickets. Not only had he been surprised to find how much he missed Sean, but he was also feeling incredibly alone.
Second period had easily been his favorite class since the very beginning of the year. It was an effortless class, which let him take a brief break from all the other pressure his other classes were giving him.
But that was far from being his first reason. First and foremost he had shared this class with his two best friends. His two friends that he had never remembered being without. Unfortunately, he couldn't even talk to them now.
He didn't know which teachers would rat him out to his mother and he didn't really want to take the chance. Regrettably that meant he wouldn't have Blink and Mush in this class to talk to anymore. With that prospect being stolen away from him the class felt a lot more dull and boring.
Shifting a look towards where Blink and Mush always sat (they were waving and looking at him in sympathy but not daring to come any nearer) he decided to sit across the room this time.
He could safely say that he had never felt this shitty in his entire life.
Specs came into second period with a cautionary walk in his step. He still didn't know what to do about David and fuck him if it wasn't driving him crazy.
What do you do if your best friend decides they have a crush on you but you don't return it? What do you do if that friend is another guy? What do you say to him? How are you supposed to react? Do you just ignore it and hope that it doesn't come up again? Do you confront him on it? Do you just go along with it to save the friendship?
Those questions (and more) kept popping into his head; many repeating themselves more than four times over.
Put simply, he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing…about anything. He was completely out of his element and he didn't feel the slightest bit happy with it.
"Hey Davy," Specs ventured as he sat down in his assigned seat, deciding that trying to talk through the awkwardness was better than just sitting in an uncomfortable silence. "What's new?"
"Apparently I have a crush on my extremely hot friend," David replied with a harshness that he had never used before.
"What? David! You ruined it by bring up the topic I was trying to avoid," Specs complained.
"Leave me alone Specs," David demanded. "I'm not anywhere near calm enough to deal with you right now."
"Hey, this is your fault to begin with," Specs tried to point out. "If you hadn't said anything to me we would be just peachy-keen right now."
"I was trying to be honest with you," David explained. "I'm sorry if that was a mistake; I'll try to avoid doing it again."
"Honesty isn't always the best thing you can do," Specs lectured, "I would have much preferred not knowing. I mean, look at us now; our friendship is practically over and all because you had to go and do what you thought was the 'right thing'."
"I'm mad at you for being an asshole," David clarified, "And you're mad at me because I called you a crappy friend. This fight was going to come eventually; the fact that I told you I was gay just sped it up."
"Please, we weren't having any problems until you brought up the …you know…the thing," Specs declared.
David hit him in the shoulder and nodded his head towards the door where the teacher was just coming in, signaling that he should shut up now unless he wanted extra homework.
"So? What do you think?" Skittery asked. "Personally I'm surprised that bottoming question didn't set Sean off. I thought for sure Dutchy was finally going to get punched."
"I can only imagine your disappointment," Bumlets replied, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, but he hasn't given up on this test yet so I still have hope," Skittery said with optimism.
"Great outlook," Bumlets commented, "Too bad you're only ever positive about bad things happening."
"So can I sit here without being insulted today?" Swifty asked, coming up to them much like he had the day before.
"You can't if you're going to be such a pussy," Skittery bargained. "What? Did we make you cry yesterday? Did we hurt your feelings? Well shit…we didn't really mean it; let's be best friends forever!" he mocked.
"Real nice," Swifty replied, rolling his eyes. "It's nice to know you haven't changed much; you're still a complete dick."
"Were you working on that come back all night?" Skittery asked. "Wow, that's really good. I wish I could come up with insults half that good," he continued with sarcasm evident in his voice.
"Stick it up your ass," Swifty demanded.
"Hey!" Skittery quietly exclaimed, faking anger, "Nothing's allowed to come anywhere near my ass unless Itey is somehow involved."
"You're disgusting," Swifty replied in shock. "Are you trying to gross me out or something?"
"Duh," Skittery said with complete honesty, "I'm hoping that it'll make you go away."
"Why can't you at least pretend to be nice to me?" Swifty asked. "Pardon me for thinking things would go just a little bit better today."
"What? Just because you're 'friends' with Sean (which I don't really believe; he's probably just putting up with you because there's cash involved) you think that I'll just magical decide to like you? You have some pretty fucking intense fantasies there, man," Skittery told him. "And even if Sean did like you for some odd, unexplained reason…what makes you think I'd have enough loyalty to him to actually stop making fun of you? Stop being such a little girl and man up a little."
"What do you want from us?" Bumlets asked, interrupting the argument that Skittery was very clearly winning. "You dump your jock friends so you decide we're the next best thing?"
"I was hoping things could go back to the way they were," Swifty confessed, "I miss what we used to all have with each other. I mean, my new friends are cool and everything, but there's no way I have that same unbreakable connection like I used to have with you guys and the old gang."
"No connection's unbreakable," Bumlets pointed out, "I think we've proven that."
"So that's it? It's just done between all of us? Like what we had didn't matter at all?" Swifty asked, not really believing that to be true.
"You sound as if you're trying to get back together with your boyfriend or something," Skittery observed, "We don't owe you or anyone else anything; stop trying to act as if we do."
"Maybe you should just rejoin track," Bumlets suggested in what may have been considered pity.
"Your friends suck monkey cock," Swifty said as soon as he met Sean in third period, putting his stuff for the French project on top of the desk.
Spot blinked in confusion. "When did I get friends?"
"Skittery," Swifty corrected, "Skittery sucks monkey cock."
Spot shrugged, "I can't really say I'm all that surprised by that specific fact; he seems like the type that would try it."
"Do you not even care that I'm pissed off as hell at him?" Swifty asked, noticeably surprised by Sean's lack of reaction.
Spot just shrugged again. "It's your problem, not mine. I have nothing to do with what goes on between you and him. Why are you even complaining to me?"
"He's your friend," Swifty explained. "Can't you make him lighten up a bit?"
Spot rolled his eyes. He wouldn't have even come back if Slingshot hadn't persuaded him to do so; he really shouldn't have. "Skittery doesn't owe me anything," he tried to clarify, "Therefore I can't really ask him to do anything for me."
"Can't you just try?" Swifty tried to bargain.
"The same way Skittery doesn't owe me anything, I don't owe you anything. The only reason I'm even helping you on this stupid project is because it's your cousin I owe something to. Don't go thinking we're friends or I want you around me more than necessary."
Swifty gaped at him for a minute before muttering, "You're worse than Skittery."
Spot smirked; he would have been a little offended to learn anything different. "It's not my fault you assume too many things and don't seem to pick up on subtle hints."
"Let's just get started on this stupid project," Swifty grumbled.
"Honestly…I don't know what to do," David easily confessed to Bumlets right before fourth period started.
They were both sitting in their seats, waiting for the teacher to come in and announce what they were supposed to be doing that day.
"I'm proud that you finally stood up for yourself and everything, Dave," Bumlets replied, "But maybe you should cool down a little. You have to take into account that Specs is a little retarded when it comes to people; you have to treat him like you would an egotistical and narcissistic five year old."
"I know, and I've never had any trouble doing that before, but lately…every time I see him I just want to explode," David admitted. "God," he realized in mortification, "I'm such a horrible friend."
"If it makes you feel any better: Specs is worse than you are," Bumlets replied
"Oh god," David whined, burying his head in his hands. "I can't believe this. I shouldn't have ever yelled at him. I shouldn't have ever said anything to him. Things were going fine the way they were; why did I have to go and say something?"
"Look, Mouth, it had to be done," Bumlets explained, "You stood up for yourself; that's a good thing. But now that Specs knows you have a problem why don't you just calm down and talk about it rationally, okay? No more yelling."
"I know, I know, but…I just can't," David complained. "Every single time he says something insulting or offensive I just want to scream at him and make him realize why people think he's such a dick. And even worse is the fact that I used to be able to let things like that go. I mean, I've probably just completely ruined our friendship. I admit he gets on my nerves sometimes, but I don't hate him."
Bumlets sighed, not really wanting to say what he was about to say. "You just have to…fuck…I'm going to sound like such a fucking dork." He grumbled, trying to find the right words to voice his advice.
"What? What?" David asked eagerly. "Please Bumlets, just tell me. I need serious help here. I'm in way over my head and I don't know what I'm doing about anything any more."
"You just…god David…I swear…I must really like you or something…" Bumlets trailed off.
"Please?" David begged. "I won't make fun of you or anything," he promised, "You should know that I'm not that type of guy anyway."
"It's not about you making fun of me Davy," Bumlets explained, "It's about the fact that I've always pictured myself as a non-touchy-feely guy."
"Please?" David asked again. "I promise I'll make it up to you. I'm seriously just screwing myself over and I'm more stressed than usual (which is saying something, believe me) and I can't concentrate as well and I'm always feeling nauseous lately and…"
"Relax, I'll tell you," Bumlets finally submitted. "All you have to do is…is talk to him about what you're feeling. God, I can't believe I actually just told someone to do that."
"But…but I still don't know what to say," David replied, still nervous about the entire thing.
Bumlets sighed yet again, "Just tell him what you told me. Tell him that he gets on your nerves a lot but you still like him. Tell him that you find him egotistical sometimes but not enough to want to give up the friendship."
David laughed. "Sounds like something my mom would say," he said.
"Hey man, what did you just tell me?" Bumlets asked. "You promised you wouldn't make fun of me for saying what I said so what's with this 'mom' crap? Did you lie to me?"
"I'm…I'm so sorry, Bumlets," David apologized immediately with wide eyes. "I can't believe I did that. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I…it just slipped out and…"
"It's cool, Davy," Bumlets assured with a smile, showing that he had just been kidding before. "I don't mind, really. I mean, how do you expect to be friends with someone if you can't make fun of them every once in awhile."
"Really?" David asked, looking amazed and touched, "Do you really consider me a friend?"
Bumlets shrugged, "What else would you call our relationship?"
"Well…um…seeing that we're friends and I don't want to deal with Specs right away but I have lunch with him… Do you mind if I have lunch with you?" David asked.
Bumlets shrugged again. "I don't mind, just uh…don't take anything Skittery or Itey tell you personally."
"Did you ever play with Barbie when you were a kid?" Dutchy asked Spot as soon as he ran into the others at their normal table.
"Who the hell is Barbie?" Spot asked.
"Hey Itey, do you remember how Bumlets got all of my sister's old Barbies?" Skittery asked.
"Why, I believe I do remember that," Itey replied. "Didn't he play with them all the time?"
"Shut up," Bumlets demanded, "I didn't really play with them; I made them clothes to practice for when I became a fashion designer."
"Yeah, because that's just so much better," Skittery agreed sarcastically.
"Do you know what Jack Spade does for a living?" Dutchy asked, jumping right back into his questions.
Spot shrugged, "Never heard of him."
Dutchy groaned, marking another 'x' for failed on the page.
"Bumlets?" Itey asked, looking purposefully at his friend.
"He makes bags," Bumlets reluctantly offered. "And everyone should shut up now."
"Hey," Specs greeted nonchalantly before dropping his lunch tray on the table and sitting next to Dutchy.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Skittery asked, "Who invited you?"
"Dutchy," Specs answered smugly, getting ready to eat his lunch and showing no desire to leave.
Itey shot a glare over to Dutchy. "Well, Dutchy doesn't have a say about who sits with us; he lost that privilege the last time he brought another retarded idiot to sit here; we only need one, thanks though."
"What are you doing here?" Skittery asked again, this time to David who looked about ready to flee. "God damn it! What's with us and other people's inability to leave us alone lately?"
"Uh, sorry," David stuttered, "I guess…I mean…I'll go find somewhere else to sit."
"It's fine, Davy," Bumlets spoke up, "Just relax and sit down."
"Excuse me!" Skittery exclaimed, "Don't invite the enemy over! If you want to fuck him do it on your own time. Don't make your friends suffer through his presence just because you think he'd be a good lay."
"It's fine, Bumlets, really," David agreed. "There aren't any more seats open anyway," he pointed out before beginning to turn away.
"Stop being such a pussy and sit down," Bumlets demanded, grabbing David's hand and pulling him onto his lap. "You want to sit with us right?"
"But…well…" David whispered into Bumlets ear as he ignored the slight blush he was getting, "The only reason you asked me to sit with you was because I didn't want to sit with Specs, right? So, I mean…since he's here there isn't much point in it."
"I invited you to sit with me because we're friends," Bumlets corrected, talking quietly enough so that no one else would hear them, "That and I thought you were due for some company that didn't treat you like a complete doormat. If you want to go you can; I'm not going to force you. Just realize that I do want you here; I didn't invite you out of obligation or something idiotic like that."
"Thanks," David replied, now talking loud enough so everyone could hear him, "But aren't you uncomfortable like this?"
"You're a lot lighter than you look," Bumlets commented, moving his legs to show David just how much he jostled, "And if it gets to be too much we can always just grab another seat."
Specs took in the whole scene with badly veiled shock and disgust. "So did you give up on me, Dave?" he asked. "I have to say I never imagined you and Bumlets going out."
"We aren't going out Specs," David answered in an annoyed voice, "We're friends. There is a very big difference between the two, even for gay men."
"When did that happen?" Skittery asked, looking more than a little surprised. "I don't ever remember giving Bumlets permission to make friends with stupid idiots."
"Shut up, Skittery," David commanded. He picked up one of his napkins and wiped at Skittery's face not even a second later. "You had a little food right there," he explained in a caring voice.
Skittery smiled. He had forgotten that David was like the mother he never really had. "I love you, David. …More than Dutchy but less than Itey," he said, adding David to the small list of people he actually gave a crap about. "And I wish you and Bumlets and best of luck in your homosexual relationship."
"We both do," Itey spoke up as he laced fingers with Skittery. After all, he and Skitts were a pair; whoever one liked the other one liked as well.
Meanwhile Spot had slipped out of his seat without anyone noticing him. Now that he had done his Be-Nice-To-Swifty duty he had to get out of the school for awhile and continue on with his plans for Race's dearest mother.
"Hey Cyclops," Skittery greeted happily as he sat down in a seat next to Blink just before sixth period was scheduled to start. "How's my little pirate doing today?"
"Worse than before you called me 'Cyclops'," Blink answered light-heartedly, "Leave it to you to be offensive to someone even though you like them. I feel sorry for Itey."
"Who says I like you?" Skittery asked, curiosity in his voice instead of anger. "You shouldn't just assume things like that."
"I thought it was a pretty obvious assumption," Blink explained, still not taking offense to what Skittery told him (he had learned to ignore his insulting comments back when they were still friends and he found himself quickly relearning just from one encounter with him). "Are you saying I'm wrong?"
"I'm just saying you shouldn't assume things," Skittery replied with his noncommittal answer.
In Skittery-speak (which Blink found himself easily understanding once again) that meant, 'Yeah, I like you, but I refuse to voice my feelings for fear I'll be taken advantage of and/or rejected'.
"Just like you shouldn't assume I won't punch you in the face if you keep calling me 'Cyclops'?" Blink asked, sounding innocent while his facial expressions told Skittery he was being serious.
"Ooh, you got feisty," Skittery pointed out, taking note of the small change. "What happened to the Blink who was overly eager-to-please?"
"Still here," Blink answered, remaining solid in his composure, "I just don't care if people who call me 'Cyclops' on a regular basis like me."
"It's a term of endearment," Skittery attempted to convince him, trying his hardest to make himself look innocent.
Blink rolled his eye, "Yeah, I'm sure. At any rate, let's keep the one-eye comments to a minimum, okay? Besides, it's way over done; I thought you would have had more creativity than that."
"Hey, don't make fun of my insults; they're all I have going for me," Skittery commanded. "Let's make a deal, shall we? If you don't make fun my insults I won't point out the fact that you only have one eye."
"Sounds logical enough," Blink agreed.
"What about pirate? Can I still call you pirate?" Skittery asked after a second's pause.
"If it's referring to my eye patch? No, you may not," Blink answered right away, "And, by the way, calling me a pirate is something else that's been done to death."
"But people like pirates," Skittery tried to persuade, "Pirates are a cool group of mother-fuckers. I dare you to name one person who doesn't think pirates are awesome."
"That's not the point. If you want to say that I'm as awesome as a pirate it's fine, but if you want to say that I look like a pirate because of my eye patch it's not fine," Blink instructed.
"I don't know why you're so sensitive about it," Skittery complained, "Eye patches are hot shit. I'd be totally turned on if I didn't have Itey."
"Thanks, Skitts," Blink replied, sounding unflattered.
"I'll miss you!" Skittery called out to Itey as he turned and walked to his seventh period class.
"Make sure to be good!" Itey commanded, knowing that his order would not really be followed. "We're already in enough trouble as it is."
"I'm glad you and Skittery are getting along so well," Mush remarked. "I remember you two used to fight all the time."
"Yeah," Itey agreed, "After great debate we decided that our powers of insult would be greater used if we teamed up. Plus, most of it aimed at each other was just sexual frustration anyway. Once we got that out of the way things smoothed out rather nicely."
"Well…good then," Mush replied, feeling slightly uncomfortable with how the conversation was turning out.
"So did you ask Blink what was going on between him and Skitts?" Itey asked, walking Mush to his seat before sitting down next to him.
"I think they bonded over the fact that they both know Sean," Mush answered. "I am glad they're friends again, even though I wish they found something better to connect over."
"So I take it you don't like Sean very much?" Itey asked. "I can't say I'm really surprised; I'm actually kind of shocked that he hasn't gotten anyone to full out hate him yet. So…what'd he do to you?"
"He's just…" Mush tried to explain, knowing he shouldn't bring up the fact that Sean was actually the Brooklyn gang leader, "He's just…dangerous."
"Dangerous? Well, I guess he could come off as scary or whatever…but I haven't really seen him do anything, you know? I mean, while I wouldn't be surprised if he did do something I'm not going to dislike just the guy because I think he might. He didn't do anything to you, did he? If he did I could try talking to him for you. It might not help, but a try's a try, right?"
"I wouldn't," Mush advised. "I mean, he didn't really do anything to me…I just…well…there's a very good chance he might hurt Racetrack, but I can't even talk to Racetrack about it because of his mom and I'm just really worried about the whole thing."
"I know Sean comes off as some mean kid most of the time but he's really nice…well kind of nice," Itey tried to comfort. "If it makes you feel any better he took Bumlets home last night and Bumlets is as fine as ever."
"Yeah but there's…stuff you don't know about him," Mush insisted, "And it's…stuff that Racetrack knows so…I guess I'm afraid something will happen to Racetrack if he gets in too over his head."
"What stuff?" Itey asked. "Are you sure I don't know? No offense but…I hang out with him more than you do so…shouldn't I know more about it than you?"
Mush shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. "I really shouldn't tell you so you have to promise that you won't tell anyone else, okay?"
"Okay," Itey agreed, "I promise. I won't even tell Skittery."
"He's… You know that big gang Brooklyn has?" Mush asked quietly.
"No," Itey confessed. "But keep going anyway. Okay, so Brooklyn has this big gang…"
"Sean's…he's the…the leader," Mush struggled to say, already feeling the guilt of breaking a promise. "You can't say anything to anyone, okay?"
Itey blinked a few times. "So he's the leader of a gang?" he asked quietly. "Kick ass. I'm friends with a gang leader. Man, wait until I tell Skittery!"
"No!" Mush scolded. "You can't tell anyone! You promised, remember? Please. If too many people know then Racetrack will be in even more trouble."
"Okay, okay. I swear I won't tell a soul," Itey tried to placate. "But you are right. That fact does make Sean seem even more dangerous."
"You think Racetrack will be okay?" Mush asked, still worried about his friend's well being.
Itey shrugged. "The most you can do is just watch out for him. I know it doesn't sound like a lot, but at this point it's as much as you can do."
"But I can't," Mush complained, "His mom hates me and he got in trouble so now he can't talk to me any more. Will you…I mean…can you check up on him and see how he's doing?"
"Sure, Mush," Itey agreed. "You did the same for me with Blink and Skitts; how could a say 'no'?"
Mush breathed out a sigh of relief, "Thanks Itey. Really…you have no idea how much you just helped me."
Sean wandered into eighth period late wondering if he should skip or not. He had his motorcycle so he could easily just leave and go back to Brooklyn, but he needed to wait for Racetrack to be done with school so his plan could start to fall into place.
He could just wait outside and smoke since that was the normal routine, but he had begun to grow pretty bored with just standing around outside for an entire period.
"Well, look who finally decided that he's brave enough to come back," Masson pointed out as soon as he saw the new kid.
Sean rolled his eyes, not really bothered by the comment. This kid was full of shit…trying to trash talk him when he was the one who had lost the fight the last time. "Trying to look tough for your boyfriend?" Sean asked nonchalantly.
"What?" Masson asked, quickly going from cocky to piss off. "You little fag! I'll teach you to make from of me!"
Sean sighed, "You're so unoriginal. I say you have a boyfriend so you call me a fag? How big is your brain? Because I'm guessing that it has less mass than a common house fly."
"You…you fucking… I'll teach you to make fun of me, you fucking momma's boy!" Masson shouted before lunging towards Sean.
"That insult doesn't work," Sean criticized, easily dodging the attack. "Since I don't have a momma. Nice try though," he added sarcastically.
"Hey man, maybe you should just leave before you get your ass kicked," Jack advised, stepping up to be beside Masson.
"You think I'd let myself get beat by two sexually-repressed faggots?" Sean asked. "I don't think my ego could take the blow, sorry."
"Excuse me?" Masson retorted, taking a step up from where he was standing. "I get pussy, mother-fucker; I'm far from being a sexually-repressed faggot."
"And who would have thought that a guy who likes tits so much would actually be gay, right?" Sean replied, "All football players are sexually-frustrated fags; why the hell else do you think someone would invent contact sports except to be able to get some dick without having to admit to being gay?"
"That's some nice talk for someone who looks so much like a girl," Jack insulted.
"Yeah," Masson scoffed, "You're face just screams sexually-frustrated faggot."
"Just because I look like a girl doesn't mean I'm a sexually-repressed faggot. It actually means the exact opposite. I am, in fact, a very sexually fulfilled faggot," Sean smirked. "Just ask the guy I had sex with last night," he advised before turning away, deciding that anything was better than dealing with the idiots at gym.
"Can you name any Broadway shows?" Dutchy asked, jumping right on Sean as soon as he saw him standing along their wall.
Sean glanced down at his half-smoked cigarette in thought. "Isn't their one called 'Rental' or something?"
"RENT," Bumlets corrected, taking out his own cigarette and lighting up. He continued when Skittery gave him a pleading look to go on, "There's also Avenue Q, Chicago, Hairspray, Les Miserables, Mary Poppins, Lion King, Spamalot…."
"That's good," Skittery interrupted, finally stopping him, "I can't go home too enthusiastic; my mom will make me do chores. She likes to crush my happiness just a little too much.
Dutchy flipped through his notebook in distress, just now realizing that he was out of questions for his test and Sean had gotten everyone of them wrong.
"What's up with you?" Bumlets asked, looking at Itey, "Don't you usually break in with the comfort sex as soon as Skittery even hints a mention of his mother? Why aren't you making out?"
"Yeah!" Skittery agreed, "Why aren't you making out with me? I miss the warmth of your lips on my tongue."
Itey shrugged, "Just something someone told me."
"What?" Bumlets questioned, not really curious but thinking Itey would want to talk about it.
Itey shook his head, "I promised him I wouldn't tell a single soul."
"What'd he tell you?" Skittery asked, seemingly ignoring his fuck-buddy's former sentence.
"I'll tell you later," Itey replied with excitement, "It's so intense."
"Are you gay?" Dutchy burst out, not looking as if he had directed his question to anyone in particular before he threw his notebook towards the parking lot.
"Half," Itey and Skittery answered together.
"No," Bumlets replied.
"Duh," Sean responded.
"What?" Dutchy asked, barely able to contain his shock. "Seriously?"
Bumlets smiled (happy he and Dutchy had won the bet with Swifty) while Itey and Skittery were busy looking as if someone had stomped on their puppy (disappointed that Dutchy's miserable ness was coming to an end).
"Well…uh…I really like you and…" Dutchy stuttered, "You want to…you know…go out and stuff?"
"I'm not that much of a fag," Sean replied before he spotted Racetrack and began to walk away.
"B-but…what?" Dutchy stuttered to a Sean that could no longer hear him.
Itey beamed before chuckling to himself. "I guess he doesn't do that whole 'date' thing, huh? I bet he just goes around getting his brains fucked out but random guys."
"Come on, Dutchy," Bumlets said, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder, "Let's go get you nice and drunk."
Racetrack was standing in front of his car…his very smashed, very messed up car. There was an overly suspicious little kid beaming at him while playing around with a metal bat.
"Did…did you do this?" Race choked out.
"It's a nice job, right?" the kid asked with something that had to have been pride in his voice. "Probably some of my best work. I can't wait to see Spot's face when he takes a look at this."
"What the hell does Spot have to do with this?" Racetrack asked, already making a pretty good guess.
"Calm down," Spot commanded, appearing behind him. "Think of this as a casualty for the greater good. You said I could have anything I wanted so I figured you could stand a damaged car. Plus, you don't have anyone to hang out with anymore anyway and this'll keep you away from me after school."
"You…you…you asked this stupid little kid to beat the shit out of my car?" Racetrack asked, completely shocked by the situation. "He… Look at this! It's completely and utterly ruined! I'm never going to get enough money to repair this damage!"
"Relax," Gadget ordered, leaning against the bat, "I'm experienced at this kind of stuff. I made sure to make it look two times as bad as it really is. You replace the body of the car and it's practically as good as new. And, as a side note: I'm not a little kid; I'm fourteen goddamn years old and I've been through more than you could ever imagine."
"Wh-wh-why?" Racetrack asked Spot, pretty much ignoring the little kid. "What the hell made you think this would be a good idea?"
Sean rolled his eyes as if the answer was obvious. "Because now I can drive you home, and get the excuse to formerly meet the bitch of a woman you call your mother."
"No you don't!" Racetrack shouted, "She works here, Sean! She drives to work in her own car! She's just going to give me a ride home! All you managed to do was to deprive me of a car! Oh my god!"
"She drives that horrid blue truck, right? License plate number AH93DB?" [1Sean asked calmly.
"Oh god…what the hell did you do to her car?" Racetrack asked, immediately feeling even worse.
"Nothing," Sean answered innocently, "I just saw some punk drive off with it is all."
"You stole my mom's car?" Racetrack whispered with disbelief.
Sean smirked, giving Racetrack a shove towards the school building. "Go ask for your mother to drive you home. When she can't, go look for me. I'll be in the library studying my little brains out."
[1 License plate number? Made it up by pressing down on keys. So please don't go around thinking I didn't. I have no idea if this is an actual plate number or not, but please don't go around trying to find out.
A/N:
So this chapter's almost ten thousand words, which is a lot longer than I planned it to be. Please forgive me if you don't like long chapters. Chapter twelve should (SHOULD...no promises here) be less of a ridiculous length.
Speaking of future chapters I'm so crazily excited for them. Some of you know some things...others don't know anything at all. Either way, it's all beyond exciting for me. But, to be nice, if you'd like to join me in my excitment my offer to give people hints is still open; just ask me in a review (if you've already done this and feel like you might want some more ask me again. You might get some of the same hints depending upon if they've happened at this point or not but I promise there will be some new ones thrown into the mix).
As always, please review and I'll get the next chapter posted as soon as I can.
P.S. Have you seen how many words I have so far? I have never written a story this long before and I'm not anywhere near done yet. Yay me! Thanks for sticking with me up until this point! I can only hope that you'll continue to do so.