(no subject)
Title: The Breakfast Club (2/3)
Characters: Jacob (as Bender), Shane (as Andrew), Amberly (as Brian), Sebastian (as Claire), Mookie (as Allison), and Zack Werner (as Principal Vernon)
Pairings: multiple combinations thereof
Rating: R, for language
Summary: ". . . and these children that you spit on, as they try to change their worlds, are immune to your consultations. They're quite aware of what they're going through . . ." David Bowie. [part two: 9000 words. total: approx. 25 500 words]
Disclaimer: All rights and ownership regarding The Breakfast Club belong to Time Warner. All rights and ownership regarding the Idols belong to themselves and their record companies.
Sebastian blinked and uneasily returned Jacob's appraising stare. He felt as if he should respond, certainly point out that he needed none of Jacob's brand of helping, thank you very much, but before he could find the right words to say, the library door opened, and the five students spun around, dreading the sight of Principal Werner.
But it wasn't. The janitor strolled in, pushing his cleaning cart ahead of him. He was whistling a tune to himself, nodding his head along with the music that came from the headphones in his ears. He grinned and pulled them out when he spotted the students.
"Jacob, how you doing?" Earl asked.
Jacob shrugged, motioned to the others around him, and sat down. He and Earl shared a look and a secret smile. From behind, Shane moaned, "God, Jake, please tell me you haven't fucked the janitor, too."
Earl chuckled and with a motion stopped Jacob's retort before it could escape his mouth. "Really? That attitude from a plebeian, unevolved primate who will almost certainly achieve a full ride at any college he chooses, but it clearly won't be for his crystal-clear intellect and profound contributions to the academic field."
Jacob muttered, "He's not like that," and Earl cast him a knowing look.
"You sure know how to pick 'em, Hoggard." He paused. "Listen up, kids. This just might save your hide some day. You guys think I'm some untouchable peasant? Peon? Huh? Maybe so, but following a broom around after shitheads like you for the past six years I've learned a couple of things. I look through your letters, I look through your lockers. I listen to your conversations - you don't realize that, but I do. I am the eyes and ears of this institution my friends. So if you ever manage to drag yourselves out of this godforsaken secondary school and make a name for yourselves, think twice before you snub your doorman, your maid, your repairman. It only takes one little whisper in the right ears to knock you flat."
For a moment, no one said a word nor moved a muscle. Earl flashed them a handsome smile, wheeled his cart back through the door, and called out over his shoulder, "By the way, that clock's twenty minutes fast!"
Everyone groaned, except for Jacob, who allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.
The room grew quiet. Amberly watched as Sebastian and Shane returned to their seats, without exchanging words or looks. Mookie stared at the ceiling, his finger skimming through the air as he counted the water stains above his head. Jacob drummed his thumbs against the table, then quietly began humming a tune, growing louder as time progressed. The words slipped out of his mouth without him meaning to, and Amberly looked over at him as he sang, "I'd build a tree-fort in our yard." He paused, though Shane had picked up humming the tune. With a grin, he returned Amberly's gaze, and told her, "You could help, it wouldn't be that hard."
"If I had a million dollars," Jacob continued, but he was interrupted when Sebastian finished the line, singing to himself, "Maybe we could put a little tiny fridge in there somewhere."
Shane leaned over to Sebastian. "You know, we could just go up there and hang out."
From behind them, Mookie spoke up with sudden enthusiasm. "Like, open the fridge and stuff, and there'd all be foods laid out for us, like little pre-wrapped sausages and things. They have pre-wrapped sausages, but they don't have pre-wrapped bacon."
The rest of the students stared in shock; this was the largest number of words any of them could remember Mookie stringing together the entire morning. The library descended into silence for several beats too long, until at last Amberly cleared her throat and forced herself to ask, "Well, can you blame them?"
A smile nearly crossed Mookie's face, but he wasn't given a chance to respond as the library door swung open and Principal Werner waltzed in.
"School board policy says I have to let you eat," Werner said, his disappointment clearly etched on his face, "and that cannot include dirt, worms, or any of the chemicals from the science lab, so I hope you brought something for yourselves." He began to leave.
"Excuse me, sir," Shane interrupted, "but are we supposed to eat in here?"
Werner glared at him suspiciously, then nodded his head slowly, as if that would better help Shane to comprehend.
"I just think the cafeteria would be a much more suitable place for us to eat." Shane glanced around for support; Jacob ignored him and Mookie remained impassive, but Amberly and Sebastian both gave empathetic nods of encouragement.
"Well, I don't care what you think, Wiebe," Werner responded briskly. "Is that all?"
Jacob spoke up now. "Uh, Dick? Excuse me, Dick?"
Werner's jaw tightened marginally. "I have explained to you before, Hoggard, that my first name is not Richard."
"Oh, I know that, sir," Jacob replied impishly. "But I was just wondering if milk will be made available to us?
Before Principal Werner could refuse, Shane piped up, "We're extremely thirsty, sir."
"I have a very low tolerance for dehydration," Sebastian added.
"I've seen him dehydrate, sir. It's pretty gross," Shane clarified.
Jacob stood. "No worries, I'll get it."
"Hold it, Hoggard. Grab some wood." Werner indicated the seat Jacob had just vacated. Jacob stifled an immature snicker and sat back down.
"What do you think, I was born yesterday?" Werner asked Jacob. "You think I'm gonna have you roaming these halls?" He pointed at Shane, then Mookie. "You, and you! Hey! What's his name? Wake him up!"
Mookie's head was tilted backwards and his eyes were closed, but Amberly could see the grin curl the edges of his lips. Acting groggy, Mookie slowly opened his eyes and blinked sleepily a few times at Werner.
"Come on, on your feet, mister! Let's go! This is no rest home." At last Shane and Mookie stood. Werner continued, "There's a soft drink machine in the teacher's lounge. Let's go."
Shane and Mookie trudged behind Principal Werner, following him out of the room like the condemned being led to the gallows. Once outside, with the library door falling swiftly shut behind them, Werner pointed down the hall and looked at his watch, "Down that way. If you aren't back in exactly forty-five seconds, we'll have the next two Saturdays together to learn how to count time."
Shane nodded and set off with Mookie falling into step a pace behind him. After they had turned a corner and put some distance between themselves and Principal Werner, Shane glanced back at Mookie and asked, "So, what's your poison?"
Mookie didn't answer, so Shane attempted to clarify, "What do you drink?"
Again, Mookie said nothing, and at last Shane shrugged. "Okay, forget I asked."
They walked in silence for a little longer until suddenly Mookie said, "Moonshine."
Shane was taken aback, and he stole another look at his strange companion. His dark hair covered most of his face, but there was something enigmatic in the dark eyes there. "Moonshine? When do you drink moonshine?"
"All the time," Mookie replied, as off the cuff as someone giving you the time.
"Is that why you're here today?" Shane asked. There was a pause in which Mookie refused to answer, so Shane prompted, "Why are you here?"
"Why are you here?" Mookie snapped. For the first time, his eyes fixed on Shane and did not look away.
Shane stopped in his tracks and seemed to ponder it. "Um, I'm here today . . ." He froze mid-sentence, somewhat abashed. He dropped his gaze away from Mookie's face and leaned back against the bank of lockers casually. "Because, uh, because my coach and my father don't want to see me blow my ride."
Shane thought for a minute that would be more than enough to satisfy the other boy, but then Mookie took a step forward, still quiet, and waited patiently. Shane continued, "See, uh, I get treated differently because Coach thinks I'm a winner. So does my old man. I'm not a winner because I want to be one . . . I'm a winner because I've got strength and speed. Kinda like a race horse." In a quieter voice, not entirely intended for Mookie to hear, he added, "That's about how involved I am in what's happening to me."
At first, Shane expected Mookie to laugh, tell him to lay off the self-pity, and take a look at the lives around him, infinitely more difficult and complicated then his own. But Mookie gave a slight nod and said, "That's nice. Now why don't you tell me why you're really here."
Somehow, that was worse than Mookie laughing at him. Shane pushed away from the wall with a start, muttered, "Forget it," and stalked off down the hall, not bothering to wait for the other to catch up. After a second, he heard Mookie's light footsteps trailing along behind him.
Jacob hoisted himself up onto the table beside Sebastian and plopped an encyclopedia by his arm. "Hey Seb, you wanna see a picture of a guy with elephantitus of the nuts? It's pretty nasty."
Sebastian scooted his seat father away. "No, thank you."
"How do you think he rides a bike?" Jacob asked, scooting after the other boy.
Sebastian rolled his eyes and turned away in disgust, crossing his arms over his chest.
Jacob grinned. "Now Sebastian, it's okay to want to look. I mean, the way you're acting, he might be the only one you ever get."
"Can't you just leave me alone?"
"I mean, maybe he has a great personality and is a good dancer. But then, I know you've met quite a few girls like that, and they haven't done it for you either."
Sebastian cut Jacob off before he could expand. "You know what I wish I was doing?" he asked, turning back to face the other two.
"Oh, watch what you say, Sebastian. Amberly here is a cherry."
"A cherry?" Amberly repeated.
"I wish I was on a plane to France," Sebastian continued, as if no one else had spoken.
"I'm not a cherry," Amberly pointed out, looking at Jacob.
"You're sweet, you're unspoiled, you're a cherry," Jacob clarified, gleeful to turn his back on Sebastian. "I'm not even talking sex here. Have you ever masturbated? Watched a porno? At least some heavy petting?"
Amberly's cheeks burned bright red and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "What do you want me to say? It shouldn't matter what you think," she added, mostly to convince herself.
Jacob hopped off the desk and squatted at her side. "But it does."
Amberly drew a breath. "I've . . . I'm not as pure as you might think," she said at last.
Jacob raised his eyebrows. "Really? Please tell."
Shaking her head, Amberly gestured toward Sebastian. She had meant to indicate that she hadn't wanted to divulge such personal details in front of the other boy, but Jacob squealed with delight and exclaimed, "Oh, you and Sebastian? Well, I didn't see that one coming. You hound dog, Seb!"
Sebastian wheeled around. "I never -" he started, but then paused to reconsider and seemed to think better of it. "It's none of your business, Jacob."
"No, that's not what I meant!" Amberly pleaded with Jacob. "I meant -"
But Sebastian cut her off, "Just drop it, Jake."
Jacob was practically bouncing on his toes now, his hands clasped in front of him with delight. "You're telling me, that in addition to the number of breasty young women wandering these very school halls, you've also recently mounted our very own Cinderella here."
Sebastian held his ground, his mouth drawn in a thin line, but Amberly spoke up, "Ew, you sick pig! Tell him the truth! I haven't, I've never," she sputtered, then began again. "All I said was that I wasn't so innocent and that's it. That's all I said!"
"Well then," Jacob demanded, "what were you motioning to Sebastian for?"
Amberly dropped her gaze and stared at her fingernails, hands clenched together on her lap.
"Jacob, what Amberly or I do in our spare time -" Sebastian began once again, but Amberly looked up with a death glare.
"He's not going to buy it, Sebastian," she spat, catching herself at the last minute and clapping a hand over her mouth. She looked thoroughly ruffled and shamed now.
"Then you haven't slept with Sebastian?" Jacob asked, prodding.
"No," Amberly said, watching as Sebastian's face fell with disappointment. "I was just . . . I didn't want Sebastian to know that I was a virgin, okay? I didn't want anyone to know." Jacob stared, and Amberly quickly continued on, "Excuse me for being a virgin, okay? I'm sorry."
"Why didn't you want me to know?" Sebastian asked in a soft voice.
"Because . . . because it's personal business. It's my personal, private business."
"Well, Amberly," Jacob pointed out, "it doesn't sound like you're doing any business. If Sebastian weren't so damned queer, then I'd turn my back for him to help you out right now."
There was a minute's pause as Amberly and Jacob waited for Sebastian's retort, but his eyes were focussed on her. "I think it's okay for someone to be a virgin."
Amberly allowed herself a small smile, still feeling guilty she hadn't come through for Sebastian - maybe letting Jacob think she and Sebastian had slept together would have gotten Jacob to lay off with the teasing. But she met Sebastian's gaze, which seemed genuinely sincere, and couldn't help but smile.
"Hold on, there, kiddo. You do? Seriously?" Jacob said.
The door opened, Shane and Mookie returning with a stack of Coke cans. Shane tossed two to Jacob, who cracked the tab on one, then set the other down by Amberly. Mookie beelined straight for his seat, opening his can only slightly and slurping the beverage loudly. Shane dropped himself into his seat beside Sebastian and surrendered the last one.
"Thanks," Sebastian said with a wrinkled nose.
"What? Don't tell me you only drink diet?" Shane asked, somewhat peeved.
Sebastian hestitated, clearly indicating that this was indeed the case. Jacob tsked his tongue with distaste, muttered something about aspertane, and slouched down at his own desk behind the other two.
Sebastian leaned over and picked up the small bag at his feet.
"What's in there?" Jacob asked.
"My lunch," Sebastian replied dryly. "Where's yours?"
"I'm staring at it." Sebastian turned around to see Jacob lick his lips.
"You're nauseating," Sebastian informed him, rolling his eyes. He pulled a pair of chopsticks from the bag, set them on the table, and then lifted out a sushi platter.
"What's that?" Jacob asked, with one raised eyebrow.
Sebastian sighed, obviously irritated now. The others were watching the exchange with interest. "It's sushi," Sebastian said.
"Sushi?"
"Sushi," he repeated. "Rice, uh, seaweed and raw fish."
Jacob was clearly baffled. "You won't accept a guy's tongue in your mouth and you're gonna eat that?"
"Can I eat?" Sebastian snapped.
"I don't know, man . . . Good luck." Jacob made a face then turned his attention to Shane as the other pulled his lunch out of a crumpled brown paper bag. The food piled up in front of him - two sandwiches, a grab bag of potato chips, an apple, a banana, a bag of cookies, and a carton of milk. Unnerved by Jacob's silence, Shane turned to face him and, having caught him gawking, demanded, "What's your problem?"
Mookie fished through his backpack, finally pulling out a plain-looking, squished sandwich. He opened it and tossed away the luncheon meat inside, sending it flying over a couple bookshelves and hitting the far wall with an icky smack. He tore the end off a sugar packet with his teeth, then sprinkled it over the bread, doing the same for the three other packets he had stored in his pocket. Titling his head to examine his concoction, he frowned, then reached down and pulled a small tupperware container of Frosted Flakes out of his bag. He dumped them onto of his sandwich, crushed the two pieces of bread back together, and began to chew loudly.
Jacob took a quick glance around the room, let his eyes narrow in on Amberly, then picked himself up and plopped himself down in the seat beside her. "Hi."
"Hi," she replied hestitantly.
"What are we having?"
"Um," she said, her hands frozen over the lunch pail she had brought, "it's just your standard, regular lunch . . . I guess."
Jacob reached over and dragged the lunch bag over to him. He pulled out a thermos, set it on the table, and, raising an eyebrow, pointed to it. "Milk?"
Amberly's voice was hardly above whisper. "Soup."
Jacob nodded in what seemed like approval, then pulled out a juice box. Amberly reached out towards the bag, but Jacob slapped her hand away and reached in for the next item. "PB&J with the crusts cut off," he said, staring at the sandwich. "Well, Amberly, this is a very nutritious luinch. All the food groups are represented. Did your mom marry Mr. Rogers?"
"Uh, no, Mr. Thiessen."
Across the aisle, Shane and Sebastian traded vague smiles. Jacob wasn't finished, however, and he stood up. "Here's my impression of life at dear Amberly's house."
Amberly swallowed nervously, arms clutched around her stomach. She watched Jacob intently as he hopped up on to one of the desks.
"'Hunny?'" Jacob began in a quiet motherly tone. He then switched quickly over to a high-pitched children's voice, "'Yes, Mom?'
"'How was your day, sweetheart?'
"'Just wonderful, Mom. And yours?'
"'Super, sweetheart. Say, would you be free to help your mother do a bit of baking Saturday morning? I've got the church ladies coming over for a little tupperware soirée that afternoon.'
"'No problemo, Mom. I'm already three weeks ahead on calculus, and I finished my history paper last night!'
"'That's great, sweetheart. And for all your hard work, you might even earn a shiny new nickle that you can take down to the sweet shop Saturday afternoon!'
"'Gee, thanks Mom!'
Jacob interrupted with a large, booming bass, "'Oh dear, isn't our daughter swell?'
Then the sickly sweet mothering tone was back again. "'I'm proud as a peach of her!'"
Jacob smiled wide, then mimed the father kissing the mother, then switched to the mother kissing the father. He broke off with a disgruntled look, glowered, then mimicked the father punching the mother in the face. Amberly watched, stricken, as Jacob pretended to strangle the imaginary mother.
Shane shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Fine, Jacob. What about your family?"
"Oh, mine?" Jacob responded, acting shocked. "You want to know about mine? Well, that's real easy."
He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, dragged a hand across his mouth, and glared at the empty space in front of him. He swayed on his feet, lifting a hand and pointing at some imaginary son. "'Stupid, worthless, no good,'" he began, his voice rough and slurred, "'goddamned, freeloading, son of a bitch, retarded, big mouth, know-it-all asshole.'"
He crossed his arms and curled his lip, hostile and venomous. His voice was high and screechy when he spoke. "'You forgot ugly, lazy, disrespectful -'"
Jacob raised his hand in a quick slap clearly intended for his invisible mother. "'Shut up, bitch! Go fix me a turkey pot pie!'"
It was Jacob's turn now. He dropped the act and spoke normally, "What about you, Dad?"
"'Fuck you,'" Jacob responded to himself in his drunken father's voice.
He switched back to normal. "No, Dad, what about you?"
"'Fuck. You.'"
"No, Dad, what about you?" Jacob was yelling now, body tensed for a fight.
"'Fuck you!'" he screamed in his father's voice, before reaching out and miming his father hitting him.
Jacob, in a rage, was delivering kicks to an imaginary body on the ground, when Amberly quietly spoke up, "Is that for real?"
Jacob spun around, his nostrils flared. "You wanna come over sometime?" He challenged.
"That's bullshit," Sebastian said at once. "It's all part of your image - I don't believe a word of it." Beside him, Shane looked down at his hands and said nothing.
Somewhere underneath the fury, Jacob actually looked hurt. "You don't believe me?"
"No."
"No?" Jacob repeated, the word harsh in his mouth.
"Did I stutter?" Sebastian replied, meeting Jacob's gaze without flinching.
"Maybe you should take a closer look." Jacob jumped down from the table and stomped over to Sebastian. His sleeve was already rolled up, so he turned over his right arm and showed Sebastian the circular burn there on his forearm. It had gone unnoticed in the action before. "Do you believe this? Huh?" Jacob snarled at Sebastian. "It's about the size of a cigar. Do I stutter? You see, this is what you get in my house when you spill paint in the garage."
Sebastian nodded meekly and looked away.
Jacob turned on his heel, stalked over to the nearest bookshelf, and, throwing his weight against it, knocked it over onto the floor. He turned back to look at the other students. "See, I don't think that I need to sit here with you fucking dildos anymore!"
Back at the tables, Amberly caught Sebastian's eye and quietly admonished him. "You shouldn't have said that!" she whispered.
Sebastian looked abashed. "How was I supposed to know? I mean, he lies about everything else anyway!"
Jacob paced around the room for a minute, then skidded to a stop. "All right, ladies, time for a field trip." His voice was still strained and tight, but at least he was looking at them again.
The library door opened silently. Jacob strolled though calmly, Sebastian tagging nervously behind. He quickened his pace to catch up to the other, asking Jacob under his breath, "How do you know where Werner went?"
Jacob shrugged. "I don't."
Beside him, Sebastian blanched. "Then how do you know where he'll be back?"
"I don't." Jacob snuck a glance at Sebastian, a teasing grin on his face. "Being bad feels pretty good, doesn't it?" Sebastian just groaned.
Behind them, Shane and Amberly followed, with Mookie trailing behind, running his hand along the wall. Amberly turned to Shane, "What's the point of going to Jacob's locker?"
"Beats me," Shane admitted, shrugging.
"This is so stupid. Why are we risking getting caught?"
Shane shook his head again, eyes on Jacob and Sebastian in front of them.
"So then what are we doing?" Amberly continued in her panicked whispery voice.
"Amberly, you could have stayed. You left with the rest of us. Stop asking questions and be quiet!" Shane muttered.
They reached a bank of lockers quicker than expected. Jacob twirled his fingers around the lock and pulled it off. He slammed a fist against the locker door and pulled it open, taking a step back as garbage and papers tumbled out.
"Ew," Sebastian commented. "What a slob."
"My maid's on vacation," Jacob responded. He reached inside, pushed aside a jacket and an empty Oh Henry wrapper, and took out a small bag of marijuana.
"Oh, screw that, Jacob," Shane snapped. "Put it back."
Jacob ignored him and started back down the hall, shoving the bag in his coat pocket. Amberly turned to Mookie. "Did you see that? That was marijuana! Do you approve of this?"
Mookie gave her a blank look, pocketed Jacob's lock, and walked away. Amberly gulped and followed along reluctantly.
Jacob and Shane were in the lead now, arguing fiercely under their breaths.
"We'll have to cross through the lab and double back," Jacob said.
Shane shook his head. "You'd better be right. If Werner cuts us off, it's your fault, asshole!"
The group rounded a corner and skidded to a stop. Principal Werner stood at the far end of the hallway, taking a drink from the fountain. Jacob's eyes bulged and he motioned quickly for them to back up. The others backstepped immediately, but Amberly merely stood there, frozen, her mouth hanging open. Jacob took her by the elbow and forced her to match pace with the rest of them as they retraced their steps down a different hall and through another set of doors.
Shane held up a hand and they all hesitated for a minute, straining their ears to listen for any sound of Principal Werner. The sound of footsteps was faint, but unmistakable, and together they broke into a run, tearing through the twisting school hallways. Mookie rounded a corner only to stumble over a trashcan. He reached out and his hand found Shane's arm first. The other glanced back over his shoulder, checking for any sign of Principal Werner, then adjusted Mookie's grip on him, and they took off hand in hand.
They slid to a stop when the hallway ended at a 'T' intersection. Jacob glanced about first, then made a move towards the left, saying, "Wait, wait! Hold it! We have to go through the cafeteria!"
Shane planted his feet firmly, shrugging to indicate the hallway to the right. "No, the tech hall loops around and will put us back by the foyer. The library's right there!"
"That goes right by Werner's office, dude," Jacob objected. "It'd be suicide!"
"You don't know what you're talking about! This is all your fault anyway!" Shane snarled back. Beside him, Mookie squeaked and tightened his grip on Shane's hand. Shane glanced back at Mookie quickly, then said to Jacob, "We're through listening to you. We're going this way."
Shane headed off with Mookie in tow. Amberly, worrying her bottom lip, also followed. Sebastian looked once at Jacob, gave a tight-lipped smile and half shrug, then motioned that Jacob should come with the rest of them. They tore down the hall, sneakers slipping on the linoleum, until they reached a darkened section of the hallway, roped off by police caution tape and a makeshift gate. They stopped and Shane cursed under his breath.
Amberly looked considerably more upset now, but swallowed it away and turned to watch as Jacob kicked at a pop can on the ground, cursing at Shane. "Great idea, Wiebe! Fuck!"
"Fuck you!" Shane snarled back.
Sebastian stepped quickly in between the other two boys. "No, fuck you, Shane! Why didn't you listen to Jacob!"
In the distance, they could hear Principal Werner humming a tune. It was little surprise that the sound kept coming closer.
Amberly clapped a hand over her mouth and moaned. "Oh, we're so dead!"
"No, just me," Jacob said, dropping his voice. He grabbed Sebastian by the arm, stuffed the bag of marijuana he had down the front of Sebastian's pants, and said, "I'll have your dick if you lose this." Then he turned and broke into a run, sprinting down the halls and singing Greased Lightning at the tops of his lungs.
A second later, the remaining four heard Principal Werner's voice carry down the hall towards them. "Son of a bitch!"
Shane nodded grimly, and they started down the hall in the opposite direction.
Jacob had just made a basket from the three-point line and was heading for a lay-up when Principal Werner threw open the gymnasium door. Jacob launched himself into the air and slam-dunked it. He landed hard on his feet and chased after the runaway basketball, ignoring Werner calling his name angrily.
"Hoggard! Hoggard? What the hell is this? What are you doing here?"
Jacob stooped low to pick up the ball, then turned to face the principal. "Oh hi!" he said, with mock surprise.
Werner practically growled. "Out! That's it, Hoggard! Out! It's over!"
Jacob paused, fingers turning white as he clutched the ball. "Don't you want to hear my excuse?" Something faltered in his voice.
"Out!" Werner took a step towards him and Jacob backpedaled.
"I'm thinking of trying out for a scholarship," he teased, recovering.
"Give me the ball!" Principal Werner started towards him and Jacob pretended to throw the ball at him, holding it back at the last minute. Instead, he set it on the ground and rolled it slowly to Werner. Werner gave it a violent kick and Jacob flinched as the ball hurtled by his head.
"Now, Hoggard." He grabbed Jacob by the arm roughly and dragged himout of the gym, winding down the halls back towards the library. He pushed him uncermoniously through the doorway, storming in after Jacob. His eyes landed on the other four students sitting calmly at their desks.
"Get your stuff! Let's go!" he snapped at Jacob. His voice was harsh when he addressed the rest of the group. "Mr. Wiseguy here has taken it upon himself to go to the gymnasium. I'm sorry to inform you, you're going to be without his services the rest of the day."
From by his desk, Jacob replied, "I'm absolutely heartbroken, sir, and I'm sure they are, too."
Werner rounded on him. "Everything's a big joke to you, huh, Hoggard? The false alarm you pulled on Friday? False alarms are really funny, aren't they? What if your home . . . what if your family - what if your dope was on fire?"
"Impossible, sir," Jacob fired back without missing a beat. "It's in Pigott's pants."
From his seat, Shane tried to cover a snicker. Werner glared at him and shouted, "You think he's funny? You think this is cute? You think he's bitchin', is that it? Lemme tell you something. Look at him: he's a nothing - a nobody."
He turned to address the entire group. Jacob shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. "You wanna see something funny?" Werner continued. "You go visit Jacob Hoggard in five years! You'll see how goddamned funny he is then!"
His eyes found Jacob again and Werner stalked over to him. "What's the matter, Hoggard? You gonna cry? Let's go!" He moved to grab Jacob by the upper arm again, but Jacob sidestepped out of his reach.
"Keep your fucking hands off me, dude!" He threw up his hands, lifted the sunglasses out of his pocket, and set them on the table in front of Sebastian, saying, "So I'll have twice as much to come back for," with a wink.
Principal Werner followed Jacob out of the room and marched him down the hall, through the offices near the front foyer, and into a small supply closet there. He stuck a finger in Jacob's face and snarled, "That's the last time, Hoggard, the last time you ever make me look bad in front of those kids, do you hear me? I don't get paid nearly enough to have to put up with punks like you. But someday, man, someday, when you're outta here and you've forgotten all about this place, and they've forgotten all about you, and you're wrapped up in your own pathetic, drunken-stupor of a life . . . then I'm gonna be there. And I'm gonna kick the living shit out of you, Hoggard."
Jacob's voice was quiet when he answered, strained and tense. "Are you threatening me?"
"What are you gonna do about it? You think anybody's gonna believe you? You think anybody would take your word over mine? Even those bratty little kids in there? I'm a man of respect around here - I'm a swell guy, and you're a sack of shit! And everybody knows it! Oh, you're a real tough guy. Come on, come on!" Werner beckoned him to take a shot, spreading his arms wide. "Let's find out how tough you are! I wanna know right now! Come on! I'll give you the first punch! Come on! I'm begging you, take a shot! That's all the excuse I need to lay you flat - just one swing! Come on!"
Though his fists were clenched and his jaw drawn tight, Jacob just stood there, breathing heavily. He met Werner's eye with a glare and Werner growled again. He faked taking a shot at Jacob, who flinched as it came at him, stopping inches before it connected with his nose.
"That's what I thought," Principal Werner spit out. "You're a coward. You don't mean anything you say."
And with that, Werner was out the door, locking it behind him. Jacob kicked at the filing cabinet in the room, then spotted a half-broken chair sitting in the corner. He looked up and smiled at the ceilings tiles. Jacob waltzed over to the chair, picked it up and plunked it down beside the filing cabinet, then climbed up. With little effort, he had dislodged the tile above his head and pulled himself up, out of the closet. Hesitantly, he set about crawling through the narrow opening. Lowly, he sang to himself as he travelled along the creaking, unsturdy beams.
"The machines are playing 'kill by numbers' down in the park with a friend called 'five'. I was in a car crash, or was it the war? Well, I've never been quite the same. Little white lies like I-" There was a louder groan of the tiles, and that was the only warning he had before the ceiling gave out underneath him and he was falling through it, cursing and screaming loudly. He landed with a thud at the back of the library, the other students whipping their heads around to see him lying in a crumpled ball on the floor.
Jacob stretched and moaned, then looked up at them and said with a shrug, "I forgot my pencil."
Out in the hall, Werner shouted, "Jesus Christ!" and his loud footsteps hurried toward them.
Jacob pressed a finger to his lips and rolled out of sight under one of the desks just before Werner kicked the door open and stormed in, his face red. "Goddammit! What in God's name is going on in here?" he shouted. "What was that ruckus?"
"Um, what ruckus?" Shane responded, folding his features into a sceptical look.
Principal Werner sputtered for a moment. "I was just in my office and I heard a ruckus!"
"Could you describe the ruckus, sir?" Amberly inquired lightly.
"Watch your tongue, young lady! Just watch it!" Werner warned, his pointer finger waving in the air.
Jacob, meanwhile, had crawled inconspicously from desk to desk, managing to dart out of Werner's sight by keeping low and hiding behind the other students' legs. He had successfully reached Shane and Sebastian's desk, curled on his knees beneath it. He tried to stretch and mistakenly kicked the leg of the table, then sat up too quickly, startled by the noise, and hit his head off the underside of the desk. Sebastian jumped in his seat and brought his hands down loudly on the desk, folding them in place. Beside him, Shane coughed.
"What was that?" Werner huffed, whirling around to pinpoint the noise. "What was that noise?"
The students shook their heads and gave Principal Werner a confunded shrug. Under the table, Jacob had inched closer to Sebastian and had set a hand on his thigh, running up towards the other's crotch. Sebastian's leg lashed out and nailed Jacob squarely in the shin. Jacob moaned and clutched his injury, while the group of students quickly tried to cover up the noise by bursting into a hacking coughing fit.
"That noise?" Sebastian asked, clearing his throat loudly. "What that the noise you were talking about? It's terribly dry in here."
"No, it - no, that was not the noise I was talking about. Now I may not have caught you in the act this -" Mookie interrupted him with a very loud, very forced cough. Werner glared at him. "You can count on that!" He turned to Sebastian, saying, "And you, too! I will not be made a fool of!"
The door had barely slammed shut behind Principal Werner as he made his exit when Jacob crawled out from under the desk. Sebastian was on his feet and on him in an instant.
"You sick, twisted -"
"It was an accident!" Jacob objected, though the shit-eating grin never left his face.
"You're an asshole!" Sebastian argued. "How the hell does your hand end up on my crotch by accident?"
"Don't flatter yourself, hot stuff. My weed is down there, remember?" Sebastian went red, his mouth flapping open. Jacob cleared his throat. "Besides, from what I felt you didn't seem to be that put off."
Sebastian snapped his mouth shut with a huff and glowered at Jacob, who held out his hand patiently for his marijuana. At last, Sebastian reached down into his jeans and pulled it out, but instead of giving it to the other boy, stuck out his tongue at Jacob and walked to the back of the room.
Jacob raised an knowing eyebrow at Shane, then followed.
"Hey, hey!" Shane called after the two of them. "You're not going to blaze up in here! What if Werner comes back?"
He looked from Amberly to Mookie in desperation, hoping for some sort of agreement. Amberly quietly unfolded her hands and stood up. She seemed to sway for a minute, towards the back of the room with Jacob and Sebastian, then the other way, where Shane was waiting impatiently for her support. Finally, she gave a small, apologetic smile, and hurried over to where Jacob and Sebastian now sat.
"Shit," Shane said, under his breath, and ran after the others.
Amberly sat cross-legged on the ground between Sebastian's legs. She had one arm hooked around his calf and the other was holding on tightly to her lit joint, waving circles in the air. All three were hunched over in a fit of giggles, and Sebastian himself was practically toppled over into Jacob's lap. He looked up, a rolled joint hanging out of the corner of his mouth, and Jacob chuckled, trying several times to light it for him before it finally caught. Sebastian inhaled and choked, coughing twice. Amberly snickered.
"And you . . . and you said, 'Chicks can't hold der smoke!'" she giggled. "But look at meeee!" She drew the last word out and crawled forward, reaching out for a magazine off a nearby rack. "Here, muscle cars and - and sports cars. That's for me."
Sebastian was not entirely listening to her. Instead, his eyes met Jacob's and he leaned forward, mumbling, "Do you know how popular I am?" His voice was somewhat slurred, as if he were drunk, but Jaocb rather thought it came from his attempt to be confidential. "I'm so popular," Sebastian continued. "Everybody in this school loves me! Loves me so much, at this school."
"Poor baby," Jacob whispered in reply, his fingers already raised to Sebastian's face and close to touching. Sebastian leaned closer, trying to make contact, but toppled over instead, landing uncermoniously in Jacob's lap. His flailing legs shook Amberly, who turned and smacked him with the rolled magazine.
Across the library, the door to the photocopy room was steamy and shut. Shane pushed it open, stepping out, with a trail of smoke following him and another puff coming from his mouth. Billy Jean by Michael Jackson was playing from a speaker somewhere inside, and Shane tried to moonwalk across the floor, his feet dragging on the carpet. He gave up and tried a few simpler moves, earning a smattering of applause from the three across the room, Sebastian having now pulled himself into a sitting position that no longer included Jacob's lap. Shane flipped forward, doing several quick acrobatics, then slipped into the scanner room, slamming the door shut behind him. The music dimmed and Shane screamed.
Principal Werner knelt beside another filing cabinet and pulled open the bottom drawer. It rattled and moaned as it went, showing the years that had gone by since anyone had bothered with these files. Dust flew into the air when Werner lifted out a folder, reading the name on it with a raised eyebrow. "Ms. Jordan," he muttered aloud to himself, "Oh Sass, a history of DUIs? One unfounded account of inappropriate sexual misconduct with a student? That botoxed old hag?"
From the doorway, Earl cleared his throat. "Afternoon, Zack."
Principal Werner sprang to his feet, dropping the file. He kicked it behind the cabinet, not quite managing the subtly he was hoping for. "Hey, Earl," Werner forced out. "How you doin'?"
"Good," Earl replied with a slight smile.
"Good, good. What's up?"
"Not much," answered Earl, wandering over to where Werner was standing. "What's happening down here in the basement in the far room with all the files that needs your attention so badly?"
"Oh, nothin', nothin'." Werner tried to shrink away, sidestepping towards the door. "I'm just doin' a little homework here."
"Homework, huh?"
Werner nodded. Earl chuckled and bent down to pick up the file that Principal Werner had dropped. He thumbed through it casually. "Confidential files, hmm?"
Werner cleared his throat and attempted to clarify. "Look, Earl . . . this is a highly sensitive area and I - I tell you something. Certain people would be very, very embarassed. I woul really appreciate it if . . . if - if this would be something that, uh, that you and I could keep between the two of us."
Earl lifted a mug shot out of the folder in his hands and studied it carefully. "What are you gonna do for me, man?"
Werner narrowed his eyes, but continued quickly when Earl moved to fold the picture and stick it in his pocket. "Well - well, what would you like?"
Earl shrugged. "You need a music teacher?"
"What?" Werner asked, incredulous.
"Well, the PTA won't be wanting Ms. Jordan around anymore once they hear about this. What a cougar."
Amberly shifted closer along the bench towards Shane and tried to hang on to that fleeting sense of giggle-inducing euphoria that had overpowered her senses just three minutes ago when Shane had pulled her away from Jacob and Sebastian at the other table. She didn't know how to flirt - it wasn't something writing essays or passing exams ever required - and she knew logically that if she was going to start on anyone, it shouldn't be the currently-engaged captain of the football team, but she pressed herself to his side nevertheless and batted her eyelashes up at him, trying to be impressive.
Shane smiled warmly and put his arm around her, but his eyes immediately travelled back across the room to the boy still sitting rigidly at one of the desks. Mookie hadn't joined the rest of the students in their little delinquency, but Shane met his gaze with cloudy eyes and Mookie slid himself out of his seat and came over.
Wanting to reclaim Shane's attention, Amberly cleared her throat and picked at the hem of her shirt. "Jacob makes it sound like you and he . . . well, you know, you and he . . . but it's not true, is it?" She felt guilty, knowing it was an unfair card to play. It worked, however, and Shane turned his gaze back to her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Jacob," Shane started hesitantly, then seemed to reconsider it and said softly, "Things happen when you're . . . It was nothing, Amberly."
Amberly glanced up, questions in her eyes, and Shane groaned internally, convinced that she would press the matter. To his relief, Mookie spoke up then, dropping to his knees and curling his legs underneath them on the ground in front of them.
"How do you like woodworking class with Flex, Amberly?" Mookie asked, his tone and expression innocent, but his eyes locked on Shane.
Beside Shane, Amberly sat up straighter in her seat, putting a hardly noticeable gap between herself and the other boy. "Just fine, I guess," she said.
"Yeah, I thought so," Mookie replied. "Your stool the other week was really sturdy."
Amberly let a small smile touch her lips, but it quickly disappeared when Mookie continued on, "I mean, I bought the same one at Wal-Mart for $29.95 four days later, but nice work all the same."
Every muscle in Amberly's body tightened and she couldn't force an excuse out of her throat quick enough. For a fleeting second, she thought she might break down into tears right then, her face ghastly white and her eyes already misting up, but then Shane lightly kicked Mookie in the shin and nodded his head toward Amberly, his arm never leaving her shoulders.
"Sorry," Mookie mumbled, his grin fading. "Kudos to you for getting away with it, though," he admitted. Amberly did not look much consoled, the horrified look still sitting on her face, so he continued, "Better to fake your way to a B then skip off and sleep your way to a miserable D. The only reason it's not an F is 'cause Flex has a soft spot for me." Mookie's eyes sparkled mischieviously, likely giving away more than he intended.
Amberly swallowed hard to calm her nerves, then leaned forward. "What do you mean?"
"We jam," answered Mookie with a shrug.
Shane snorted and said, "Is that what you kids are calling it these days?" All three laughed.
"No, but seriously, Amberly," Mookie said at last, pulling a wirebound notebook from his bag, "maybe if you hadn't been so busy writing Shane's name in little hearts, you'd be aceing that class."
Amberly went scarlet when she saw her journal clasped in Mookie's hands. "Where do you get that?" she screeched.
"Idle hands are the devil's tools." Mookie leapt to his feet and sprinted away, giggling. Amberly was on his trail in a flash, torn between embarassment and amusement. She chased Mookie, weaving through the rows of books, until at last she cornered him between a stack of shelves with nowhere to go but through her. Mookie grinned, tossed her the journal, and darted past her, his thin frame slipping by Amberly easily.
He went swiftly back to the couch which Shane had not yet left and plopped down on the far cushion, leaving room for Amberly to come sit in between when she finally made it back, her cheeks still painted bright red. She hit Mookie lightly on the shoulder with the book then clutched it to her chest tightly. "This is great," Amberly moaned. "You're a thief, too."
"Does it really have my name scribbled inside little pink hearts in there?" Shane asked, mildly curious but more anxious to set Amberly off again.
Amberly squeaked and buried her face into the jacket of the book, trying vainly to disguise her giggles. Mookie leaned back on the couch and grinned at Shane over Amberly's head.
Jacob pushed his finger through the hole in the knee of Sebastian's jeans and twirled his finger around. Sebastian giggled, though because he was ticklish or because he had just inhaled again on the joint in his mouth, Jacob couldn't tell.
"Who are all these girls?" Sebastian asked. He was skimming through the foldout of photos in Jacob's wallet, stunned by the sheer numbers the other boy had collected. Sebastian brushed his finger across one girl, a blonde, noting that in her panties and coloured handkerchief, she was one of the tamest models of the lot.
Jacob shrugged. "Some of them are girls I've dated."
Sebastian looked confused. He wanted to ask about the boys, because deep down he knew that those weren't just rumours about Jacob, but instead he asked, "And the others?"
Jacob sighed, feigning exasperation. "You dumb bimbo, the one you're fondling now is Marilyn Monroe."
"Oh." Sebastian lifted his hands away. The missing men in Jacob's catologue was still bothering him, but he couldn't find the right way to mention it. Jacob traced his finger upwards, underneath Sebastian's jeans, and suddenly Sebastian lurched away and blurted out, "Why don't you believe in just one guy, one girl?"
Jacob met his gaze. "Do you?"
"I . . . That's the way it should be."
Jacob shrugged again, looking away. "Well, it's not for me."
"Why not?" Sebastian asked. Jacob slouched his shoulders, pulling away from the conversation. It was a subject he clearly did not want to dwell on. Sebastian raised his eyebrow and at last Jacob caved.
"Why do you have so many holes in your jeans?" Jacob challenged.
It was Sebastian's turn to shrug his shoulders. "I don't know. I guess I just think it looks good."
Jacob nodded and said, "There you go."
It took Sebastian a moment, but then it dawned on him what Jacob was trying to say. He looked down at the row of wallet-sized photographs stretched out across his lap. "Oh."
Amberly shifted through the contents of Shane's wallet quietly. With a smirk, she pulled out the identification card tucked away in the back and passed it over to Mookie.
"That's the worst fake ID I've ever seen," Amberly told Shane with a laugh. "Do you realize you made yourself sixty-eight?"
Shane smiled. "Yeah, I know. I goofed it," he admitted.
"Hell, mine is better than that," Amberly said, taking the card back from Mookie's skinny fingers.
"What do you need a fake ID for?" asked Shane, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
Amberly paused, then said, "So I can vote," like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Shane opened his mouth to reply, but Mookie had shifted in his seat. Shane and Amberly watched as he reached down beside his seat, lifted up his bag, and dumped the contents on the couch by the others. Shane and Amberly leapt to their feet.
"Holy shit, man! What is all this stuff?" Shane yelped, staring down at the pile now covering the cushions.
Amberly gave Mookie a serious look. "Do you always carrying this much stuff in your bag?"
Mookie grinned slyly and replied slowly, "Yeah, I always carry this much . . . shit . . . in my bag." He gave the word more emphasis than he should. "You never know when you may have to scram."
Amberly reached out and began fingering through the mess. There were wrappers and candy bars and dime-store novels and rolls of tape, even the lock from Jacob's locker. She picked up a tampon and frowned at Mookie. "Are you gonna be, like, one of those weird homeless guys who walk around talking to walls and pushing a shopping cart full of broken radios?"
"I'll do what I have to do," said Mookie with a shrug.
"Why do you have to do anything?"
There was a pause before Mookie answered. His voice was low and hesitant. "My home life is . . . unsatisfying."
Amberly took a defensive stance, intervention-mode clear from the look in her eyes. "So you're saying you're saying you'd subject yourself to the violent dangers of the Chicago streets because your home-life is unsatisfying?"
Mookie's eyes were wild, like a feral cat backed into a corner. "I don't have to run away and live on the streets," he explained, too fast and words tripping over one another. "I can run away and - and go to the ocean! I can go to the country. I can go to the mountains! I can go to Israel, Africa, Afghanistan . . ."
Amberly let Mookie trail off then turned to Shane for back-up support. "Shane, did you have anything to say about this? Mookie here says that he wants to run away, because his home life is unsatisfying." There was that emphasis on the word again, trying very hard to be distasteful but sounding closer to empathetic.
Shane thought for a minute before answering, his words slow and deliberate. "Well, everyone's home lives are unsatisfying. If they weren't, people would want to live with their parents forever."
"I think that his goes beyond, you know, what people like you and me would consider . . . normally unsatisfying." Amberly kept her voice hushed and confidential. Shane's eyes sought out Mookie's.
Mookie snapped. "Never mind! Forget it - everything's cool!" He picked up his bag in a huff and began quickly stuffing everything back inside. Shane's hand landed softly on his arm.
"What's up?"
"No!" Mookie threw his grip off and continued packing. "Nothing's up, slick. Just forget it. Leave me alone!"
"Wait a minute," Shane interjected. "Now you're carrying around all that crap in your bag for a reason. Either you really want to run away, or you want people to think you want to run away."
"Eat shit!" Mookie hissed, then stomped off.
Amberly sank back down onto the sofa. "That boy is an island, okay? Just let him be."
Shane shook his head and went after Mookie. He slid in front of the other boy, blocking his escape route. "Hi. Wanna talk?"
"No!" Mookie replied, folding his arms across his chest.
"Why not?"
"Go away." Mookie's voice was already faltering.
Shane stepped closer. "Where do you want me to go?"
"Go away!" Mooke said fiercely, but the tears were already burning at his eyes. He went for one last jab at Shane. "You have issues, slick."
"I have problems?" Shane asked, incredulous. His hands sought out Mookie's arms and unfolding them, hanging on around his wrists in case the other tried to bolt again.
The tears were trickling down Mookie's face, but he answered regardless, saying, "You do everything everybody ever told you to do. That is a problem."
Shane nodded, not denying it. "Okay, fine, but I didn't dump my backpack out on the couch and invite people into my problems, did I? So what's wrong?" When Mookie didn't answer immediately, Shane pressed on. "What is it? Is it bad?"
Mookie nodded his head just a fraction of an inch.
"Parents?" Shane asked.
"Yeah." Shane could barely hear Mookie, who was trying desperately not to look up and meet Shane's gaze.
"What do they do?" Shane's own voice caught around a lump in his throat as he asked it.
"They ignore me," Mookie replied, quiet as a mouse. The tears were really coming now, streaming down Mookie's face, and Shane could feel his own eyes brim over. He pulled Mookie into a fierce hug and refused to let go as the other boy shuddered, racked with sobs, against him.
part one
part three
Characters: Jacob (as Bender), Shane (as Andrew), Amberly (as Brian), Sebastian (as Claire), Mookie (as Allison), and Zack Werner (as Principal Vernon)
Pairings: multiple combinations thereof
Rating: R, for language
Summary: ". . . and these children that you spit on, as they try to change their worlds, are immune to your consultations. They're quite aware of what they're going through . . ." David Bowie. [part two: 9000 words. total: approx. 25 500 words]
Disclaimer: All rights and ownership regarding The Breakfast Club belong to Time Warner. All rights and ownership regarding the Idols belong to themselves and their record companies.
Sebastian blinked and uneasily returned Jacob's appraising stare. He felt as if he should respond, certainly point out that he needed none of Jacob's brand of helping, thank you very much, but before he could find the right words to say, the library door opened, and the five students spun around, dreading the sight of Principal Werner.
But it wasn't. The janitor strolled in, pushing his cleaning cart ahead of him. He was whistling a tune to himself, nodding his head along with the music that came from the headphones in his ears. He grinned and pulled them out when he spotted the students.
"Jacob, how you doing?" Earl asked.
Jacob shrugged, motioned to the others around him, and sat down. He and Earl shared a look and a secret smile. From behind, Shane moaned, "God, Jake, please tell me you haven't fucked the janitor, too."
Earl chuckled and with a motion stopped Jacob's retort before it could escape his mouth. "Really? That attitude from a plebeian, unevolved primate who will almost certainly achieve a full ride at any college he chooses, but it clearly won't be for his crystal-clear intellect and profound contributions to the academic field."
Jacob muttered, "He's not like that," and Earl cast him a knowing look.
"You sure know how to pick 'em, Hoggard." He paused. "Listen up, kids. This just might save your hide some day. You guys think I'm some untouchable peasant? Peon? Huh? Maybe so, but following a broom around after shitheads like you for the past six years I've learned a couple of things. I look through your letters, I look through your lockers. I listen to your conversations - you don't realize that, but I do. I am the eyes and ears of this institution my friends. So if you ever manage to drag yourselves out of this godforsaken secondary school and make a name for yourselves, think twice before you snub your doorman, your maid, your repairman. It only takes one little whisper in the right ears to knock you flat."
For a moment, no one said a word nor moved a muscle. Earl flashed them a handsome smile, wheeled his cart back through the door, and called out over his shoulder, "By the way, that clock's twenty minutes fast!"
Everyone groaned, except for Jacob, who allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.
The room grew quiet. Amberly watched as Sebastian and Shane returned to their seats, without exchanging words or looks. Mookie stared at the ceiling, his finger skimming through the air as he counted the water stains above his head. Jacob drummed his thumbs against the table, then quietly began humming a tune, growing louder as time progressed. The words slipped out of his mouth without him meaning to, and Amberly looked over at him as he sang, "I'd build a tree-fort in our yard." He paused, though Shane had picked up humming the tune. With a grin, he returned Amberly's gaze, and told her, "You could help, it wouldn't be that hard."
"If I had a million dollars," Jacob continued, but he was interrupted when Sebastian finished the line, singing to himself, "Maybe we could put a little tiny fridge in there somewhere."
Shane leaned over to Sebastian. "You know, we could just go up there and hang out."
From behind them, Mookie spoke up with sudden enthusiasm. "Like, open the fridge and stuff, and there'd all be foods laid out for us, like little pre-wrapped sausages and things. They have pre-wrapped sausages, but they don't have pre-wrapped bacon."
The rest of the students stared in shock; this was the largest number of words any of them could remember Mookie stringing together the entire morning. The library descended into silence for several beats too long, until at last Amberly cleared her throat and forced herself to ask, "Well, can you blame them?"
A smile nearly crossed Mookie's face, but he wasn't given a chance to respond as the library door swung open and Principal Werner waltzed in.
"School board policy says I have to let you eat," Werner said, his disappointment clearly etched on his face, "and that cannot include dirt, worms, or any of the chemicals from the science lab, so I hope you brought something for yourselves." He began to leave.
"Excuse me, sir," Shane interrupted, "but are we supposed to eat in here?"
Werner glared at him suspiciously, then nodded his head slowly, as if that would better help Shane to comprehend.
"I just think the cafeteria would be a much more suitable place for us to eat." Shane glanced around for support; Jacob ignored him and Mookie remained impassive, but Amberly and Sebastian both gave empathetic nods of encouragement.
"Well, I don't care what you think, Wiebe," Werner responded briskly. "Is that all?"
Jacob spoke up now. "Uh, Dick? Excuse me, Dick?"
Werner's jaw tightened marginally. "I have explained to you before, Hoggard, that my first name is not Richard."
"Oh, I know that, sir," Jacob replied impishly. "But I was just wondering if milk will be made available to us?
Before Principal Werner could refuse, Shane piped up, "We're extremely thirsty, sir."
"I have a very low tolerance for dehydration," Sebastian added.
"I've seen him dehydrate, sir. It's pretty gross," Shane clarified.
Jacob stood. "No worries, I'll get it."
"Hold it, Hoggard. Grab some wood." Werner indicated the seat Jacob had just vacated. Jacob stifled an immature snicker and sat back down.
"What do you think, I was born yesterday?" Werner asked Jacob. "You think I'm gonna have you roaming these halls?" He pointed at Shane, then Mookie. "You, and you! Hey! What's his name? Wake him up!"
Mookie's head was tilted backwards and his eyes were closed, but Amberly could see the grin curl the edges of his lips. Acting groggy, Mookie slowly opened his eyes and blinked sleepily a few times at Werner.
"Come on, on your feet, mister! Let's go! This is no rest home." At last Shane and Mookie stood. Werner continued, "There's a soft drink machine in the teacher's lounge. Let's go."
Shane and Mookie trudged behind Principal Werner, following him out of the room like the condemned being led to the gallows. Once outside, with the library door falling swiftly shut behind them, Werner pointed down the hall and looked at his watch, "Down that way. If you aren't back in exactly forty-five seconds, we'll have the next two Saturdays together to learn how to count time."
Shane nodded and set off with Mookie falling into step a pace behind him. After they had turned a corner and put some distance between themselves and Principal Werner, Shane glanced back at Mookie and asked, "So, what's your poison?"
Mookie didn't answer, so Shane attempted to clarify, "What do you drink?"
Again, Mookie said nothing, and at last Shane shrugged. "Okay, forget I asked."
They walked in silence for a little longer until suddenly Mookie said, "Moonshine."
Shane was taken aback, and he stole another look at his strange companion. His dark hair covered most of his face, but there was something enigmatic in the dark eyes there. "Moonshine? When do you drink moonshine?"
"All the time," Mookie replied, as off the cuff as someone giving you the time.
"Is that why you're here today?" Shane asked. There was a pause in which Mookie refused to answer, so Shane prompted, "Why are you here?"
"Why are you here?" Mookie snapped. For the first time, his eyes fixed on Shane and did not look away.
Shane stopped in his tracks and seemed to ponder it. "Um, I'm here today . . ." He froze mid-sentence, somewhat abashed. He dropped his gaze away from Mookie's face and leaned back against the bank of lockers casually. "Because, uh, because my coach and my father don't want to see me blow my ride."
Shane thought for a minute that would be more than enough to satisfy the other boy, but then Mookie took a step forward, still quiet, and waited patiently. Shane continued, "See, uh, I get treated differently because Coach thinks I'm a winner. So does my old man. I'm not a winner because I want to be one . . . I'm a winner because I've got strength and speed. Kinda like a race horse." In a quieter voice, not entirely intended for Mookie to hear, he added, "That's about how involved I am in what's happening to me."
At first, Shane expected Mookie to laugh, tell him to lay off the self-pity, and take a look at the lives around him, infinitely more difficult and complicated then his own. But Mookie gave a slight nod and said, "That's nice. Now why don't you tell me why you're really here."
Somehow, that was worse than Mookie laughing at him. Shane pushed away from the wall with a start, muttered, "Forget it," and stalked off down the hall, not bothering to wait for the other to catch up. After a second, he heard Mookie's light footsteps trailing along behind him.
Jacob hoisted himself up onto the table beside Sebastian and plopped an encyclopedia by his arm. "Hey Seb, you wanna see a picture of a guy with elephantitus of the nuts? It's pretty nasty."
Sebastian scooted his seat father away. "No, thank you."
"How do you think he rides a bike?" Jacob asked, scooting after the other boy.
Sebastian rolled his eyes and turned away in disgust, crossing his arms over his chest.
Jacob grinned. "Now Sebastian, it's okay to want to look. I mean, the way you're acting, he might be the only one you ever get."
"Can't you just leave me alone?"
"I mean, maybe he has a great personality and is a good dancer. But then, I know you've met quite a few girls like that, and they haven't done it for you either."
Sebastian cut Jacob off before he could expand. "You know what I wish I was doing?" he asked, turning back to face the other two.
"Oh, watch what you say, Sebastian. Amberly here is a cherry."
"A cherry?" Amberly repeated.
"I wish I was on a plane to France," Sebastian continued, as if no one else had spoken.
"I'm not a cherry," Amberly pointed out, looking at Jacob.
"You're sweet, you're unspoiled, you're a cherry," Jacob clarified, gleeful to turn his back on Sebastian. "I'm not even talking sex here. Have you ever masturbated? Watched a porno? At least some heavy petting?"
Amberly's cheeks burned bright red and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "What do you want me to say? It shouldn't matter what you think," she added, mostly to convince herself.
Jacob hopped off the desk and squatted at her side. "But it does."
Amberly drew a breath. "I've . . . I'm not as pure as you might think," she said at last.
Jacob raised his eyebrows. "Really? Please tell."
Shaking her head, Amberly gestured toward Sebastian. She had meant to indicate that she hadn't wanted to divulge such personal details in front of the other boy, but Jacob squealed with delight and exclaimed, "Oh, you and Sebastian? Well, I didn't see that one coming. You hound dog, Seb!"
Sebastian wheeled around. "I never -" he started, but then paused to reconsider and seemed to think better of it. "It's none of your business, Jacob."
"No, that's not what I meant!" Amberly pleaded with Jacob. "I meant -"
But Sebastian cut her off, "Just drop it, Jake."
Jacob was practically bouncing on his toes now, his hands clasped in front of him with delight. "You're telling me, that in addition to the number of breasty young women wandering these very school halls, you've also recently mounted our very own Cinderella here."
Sebastian held his ground, his mouth drawn in a thin line, but Amberly spoke up, "Ew, you sick pig! Tell him the truth! I haven't, I've never," she sputtered, then began again. "All I said was that I wasn't so innocent and that's it. That's all I said!"
"Well then," Jacob demanded, "what were you motioning to Sebastian for?"
Amberly dropped her gaze and stared at her fingernails, hands clenched together on her lap.
"Jacob, what Amberly or I do in our spare time -" Sebastian began once again, but Amberly looked up with a death glare.
"He's not going to buy it, Sebastian," she spat, catching herself at the last minute and clapping a hand over her mouth. She looked thoroughly ruffled and shamed now.
"Then you haven't slept with Sebastian?" Jacob asked, prodding.
"No," Amberly said, watching as Sebastian's face fell with disappointment. "I was just . . . I didn't want Sebastian to know that I was a virgin, okay? I didn't want anyone to know." Jacob stared, and Amberly quickly continued on, "Excuse me for being a virgin, okay? I'm sorry."
"Why didn't you want me to know?" Sebastian asked in a soft voice.
"Because . . . because it's personal business. It's my personal, private business."
"Well, Amberly," Jacob pointed out, "it doesn't sound like you're doing any business. If Sebastian weren't so damned queer, then I'd turn my back for him to help you out right now."
There was a minute's pause as Amberly and Jacob waited for Sebastian's retort, but his eyes were focussed on her. "I think it's okay for someone to be a virgin."
Amberly allowed herself a small smile, still feeling guilty she hadn't come through for Sebastian - maybe letting Jacob think she and Sebastian had slept together would have gotten Jacob to lay off with the teasing. But she met Sebastian's gaze, which seemed genuinely sincere, and couldn't help but smile.
"Hold on, there, kiddo. You do? Seriously?" Jacob said.
The door opened, Shane and Mookie returning with a stack of Coke cans. Shane tossed two to Jacob, who cracked the tab on one, then set the other down by Amberly. Mookie beelined straight for his seat, opening his can only slightly and slurping the beverage loudly. Shane dropped himself into his seat beside Sebastian and surrendered the last one.
"Thanks," Sebastian said with a wrinkled nose.
"What? Don't tell me you only drink diet?" Shane asked, somewhat peeved.
Sebastian hestitated, clearly indicating that this was indeed the case. Jacob tsked his tongue with distaste, muttered something about aspertane, and slouched down at his own desk behind the other two.
Sebastian leaned over and picked up the small bag at his feet.
"What's in there?" Jacob asked.
"My lunch," Sebastian replied dryly. "Where's yours?"
"I'm staring at it." Sebastian turned around to see Jacob lick his lips.
"You're nauseating," Sebastian informed him, rolling his eyes. He pulled a pair of chopsticks from the bag, set them on the table, and then lifted out a sushi platter.
"What's that?" Jacob asked, with one raised eyebrow.
Sebastian sighed, obviously irritated now. The others were watching the exchange with interest. "It's sushi," Sebastian said.
"Sushi?"
"Sushi," he repeated. "Rice, uh, seaweed and raw fish."
Jacob was clearly baffled. "You won't accept a guy's tongue in your mouth and you're gonna eat that?"
"Can I eat?" Sebastian snapped.
"I don't know, man . . . Good luck." Jacob made a face then turned his attention to Shane as the other pulled his lunch out of a crumpled brown paper bag. The food piled up in front of him - two sandwiches, a grab bag of potato chips, an apple, a banana, a bag of cookies, and a carton of milk. Unnerved by Jacob's silence, Shane turned to face him and, having caught him gawking, demanded, "What's your problem?"
Mookie fished through his backpack, finally pulling out a plain-looking, squished sandwich. He opened it and tossed away the luncheon meat inside, sending it flying over a couple bookshelves and hitting the far wall with an icky smack. He tore the end off a sugar packet with his teeth, then sprinkled it over the bread, doing the same for the three other packets he had stored in his pocket. Titling his head to examine his concoction, he frowned, then reached down and pulled a small tupperware container of Frosted Flakes out of his bag. He dumped them onto of his sandwich, crushed the two pieces of bread back together, and began to chew loudly.
Jacob took a quick glance around the room, let his eyes narrow in on Amberly, then picked himself up and plopped himself down in the seat beside her. "Hi."
"Hi," she replied hestitantly.
"What are we having?"
"Um," she said, her hands frozen over the lunch pail she had brought, "it's just your standard, regular lunch . . . I guess."
Jacob reached over and dragged the lunch bag over to him. He pulled out a thermos, set it on the table, and, raising an eyebrow, pointed to it. "Milk?"
Amberly's voice was hardly above whisper. "Soup."
Jacob nodded in what seemed like approval, then pulled out a juice box. Amberly reached out towards the bag, but Jacob slapped her hand away and reached in for the next item. "PB&J with the crusts cut off," he said, staring at the sandwich. "Well, Amberly, this is a very nutritious luinch. All the food groups are represented. Did your mom marry Mr. Rogers?"
"Uh, no, Mr. Thiessen."
Across the aisle, Shane and Sebastian traded vague smiles. Jacob wasn't finished, however, and he stood up. "Here's my impression of life at dear Amberly's house."
Amberly swallowed nervously, arms clutched around her stomach. She watched Jacob intently as he hopped up on to one of the desks.
"'Hunny?'" Jacob began in a quiet motherly tone. He then switched quickly over to a high-pitched children's voice, "'Yes, Mom?'
"'How was your day, sweetheart?'
"'Just wonderful, Mom. And yours?'
"'Super, sweetheart. Say, would you be free to help your mother do a bit of baking Saturday morning? I've got the church ladies coming over for a little tupperware soirée that afternoon.'
"'No problemo, Mom. I'm already three weeks ahead on calculus, and I finished my history paper last night!'
"'That's great, sweetheart. And for all your hard work, you might even earn a shiny new nickle that you can take down to the sweet shop Saturday afternoon!'
"'Gee, thanks Mom!'
Jacob interrupted with a large, booming bass, "'Oh dear, isn't our daughter swell?'
Then the sickly sweet mothering tone was back again. "'I'm proud as a peach of her!'"
Jacob smiled wide, then mimed the father kissing the mother, then switched to the mother kissing the father. He broke off with a disgruntled look, glowered, then mimicked the father punching the mother in the face. Amberly watched, stricken, as Jacob pretended to strangle the imaginary mother.
Shane shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Fine, Jacob. What about your family?"
"Oh, mine?" Jacob responded, acting shocked. "You want to know about mine? Well, that's real easy."
He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, dragged a hand across his mouth, and glared at the empty space in front of him. He swayed on his feet, lifting a hand and pointing at some imaginary son. "'Stupid, worthless, no good,'" he began, his voice rough and slurred, "'goddamned, freeloading, son of a bitch, retarded, big mouth, know-it-all asshole.'"
He crossed his arms and curled his lip, hostile and venomous. His voice was high and screechy when he spoke. "'You forgot ugly, lazy, disrespectful -'"
Jacob raised his hand in a quick slap clearly intended for his invisible mother. "'Shut up, bitch! Go fix me a turkey pot pie!'"
It was Jacob's turn now. He dropped the act and spoke normally, "What about you, Dad?"
"'Fuck you,'" Jacob responded to himself in his drunken father's voice.
He switched back to normal. "No, Dad, what about you?"
"'Fuck. You.'"
"No, Dad, what about you?" Jacob was yelling now, body tensed for a fight.
"'Fuck you!'" he screamed in his father's voice, before reaching out and miming his father hitting him.
Jacob, in a rage, was delivering kicks to an imaginary body on the ground, when Amberly quietly spoke up, "Is that for real?"
Jacob spun around, his nostrils flared. "You wanna come over sometime?" He challenged.
"That's bullshit," Sebastian said at once. "It's all part of your image - I don't believe a word of it." Beside him, Shane looked down at his hands and said nothing.
Somewhere underneath the fury, Jacob actually looked hurt. "You don't believe me?"
"No."
"No?" Jacob repeated, the word harsh in his mouth.
"Did I stutter?" Sebastian replied, meeting Jacob's gaze without flinching.
"Maybe you should take a closer look." Jacob jumped down from the table and stomped over to Sebastian. His sleeve was already rolled up, so he turned over his right arm and showed Sebastian the circular burn there on his forearm. It had gone unnoticed in the action before. "Do you believe this? Huh?" Jacob snarled at Sebastian. "It's about the size of a cigar. Do I stutter? You see, this is what you get in my house when you spill paint in the garage."
Sebastian nodded meekly and looked away.
Jacob turned on his heel, stalked over to the nearest bookshelf, and, throwing his weight against it, knocked it over onto the floor. He turned back to look at the other students. "See, I don't think that I need to sit here with you fucking dildos anymore!"
Back at the tables, Amberly caught Sebastian's eye and quietly admonished him. "You shouldn't have said that!" she whispered.
Sebastian looked abashed. "How was I supposed to know? I mean, he lies about everything else anyway!"
Jacob paced around the room for a minute, then skidded to a stop. "All right, ladies, time for a field trip." His voice was still strained and tight, but at least he was looking at them again.
The library door opened silently. Jacob strolled though calmly, Sebastian tagging nervously behind. He quickened his pace to catch up to the other, asking Jacob under his breath, "How do you know where Werner went?"
Jacob shrugged. "I don't."
Beside him, Sebastian blanched. "Then how do you know where he'll be back?"
"I don't." Jacob snuck a glance at Sebastian, a teasing grin on his face. "Being bad feels pretty good, doesn't it?" Sebastian just groaned.
Behind them, Shane and Amberly followed, with Mookie trailing behind, running his hand along the wall. Amberly turned to Shane, "What's the point of going to Jacob's locker?"
"Beats me," Shane admitted, shrugging.
"This is so stupid. Why are we risking getting caught?"
Shane shook his head again, eyes on Jacob and Sebastian in front of them.
"So then what are we doing?" Amberly continued in her panicked whispery voice.
"Amberly, you could have stayed. You left with the rest of us. Stop asking questions and be quiet!" Shane muttered.
They reached a bank of lockers quicker than expected. Jacob twirled his fingers around the lock and pulled it off. He slammed a fist against the locker door and pulled it open, taking a step back as garbage and papers tumbled out.
"Ew," Sebastian commented. "What a slob."
"My maid's on vacation," Jacob responded. He reached inside, pushed aside a jacket and an empty Oh Henry wrapper, and took out a small bag of marijuana.
"Oh, screw that, Jacob," Shane snapped. "Put it back."
Jacob ignored him and started back down the hall, shoving the bag in his coat pocket. Amberly turned to Mookie. "Did you see that? That was marijuana! Do you approve of this?"
Mookie gave her a blank look, pocketed Jacob's lock, and walked away. Amberly gulped and followed along reluctantly.
Jacob and Shane were in the lead now, arguing fiercely under their breaths.
"We'll have to cross through the lab and double back," Jacob said.
Shane shook his head. "You'd better be right. If Werner cuts us off, it's your fault, asshole!"
The group rounded a corner and skidded to a stop. Principal Werner stood at the far end of the hallway, taking a drink from the fountain. Jacob's eyes bulged and he motioned quickly for them to back up. The others backstepped immediately, but Amberly merely stood there, frozen, her mouth hanging open. Jacob took her by the elbow and forced her to match pace with the rest of them as they retraced their steps down a different hall and through another set of doors.
Shane held up a hand and they all hesitated for a minute, straining their ears to listen for any sound of Principal Werner. The sound of footsteps was faint, but unmistakable, and together they broke into a run, tearing through the twisting school hallways. Mookie rounded a corner only to stumble over a trashcan. He reached out and his hand found Shane's arm first. The other glanced back over his shoulder, checking for any sign of Principal Werner, then adjusted Mookie's grip on him, and they took off hand in hand.
They slid to a stop when the hallway ended at a 'T' intersection. Jacob glanced about first, then made a move towards the left, saying, "Wait, wait! Hold it! We have to go through the cafeteria!"
Shane planted his feet firmly, shrugging to indicate the hallway to the right. "No, the tech hall loops around and will put us back by the foyer. The library's right there!"
"That goes right by Werner's office, dude," Jacob objected. "It'd be suicide!"
"You don't know what you're talking about! This is all your fault anyway!" Shane snarled back. Beside him, Mookie squeaked and tightened his grip on Shane's hand. Shane glanced back at Mookie quickly, then said to Jacob, "We're through listening to you. We're going this way."
Shane headed off with Mookie in tow. Amberly, worrying her bottom lip, also followed. Sebastian looked once at Jacob, gave a tight-lipped smile and half shrug, then motioned that Jacob should come with the rest of them. They tore down the hall, sneakers slipping on the linoleum, until they reached a darkened section of the hallway, roped off by police caution tape and a makeshift gate. They stopped and Shane cursed under his breath.
Amberly looked considerably more upset now, but swallowed it away and turned to watch as Jacob kicked at a pop can on the ground, cursing at Shane. "Great idea, Wiebe! Fuck!"
"Fuck you!" Shane snarled back.
Sebastian stepped quickly in between the other two boys. "No, fuck you, Shane! Why didn't you listen to Jacob!"
In the distance, they could hear Principal Werner humming a tune. It was little surprise that the sound kept coming closer.
Amberly clapped a hand over her mouth and moaned. "Oh, we're so dead!"
"No, just me," Jacob said, dropping his voice. He grabbed Sebastian by the arm, stuffed the bag of marijuana he had down the front of Sebastian's pants, and said, "I'll have your dick if you lose this." Then he turned and broke into a run, sprinting down the halls and singing Greased Lightning at the tops of his lungs.
A second later, the remaining four heard Principal Werner's voice carry down the hall towards them. "Son of a bitch!"
Shane nodded grimly, and they started down the hall in the opposite direction.
Jacob had just made a basket from the three-point line and was heading for a lay-up when Principal Werner threw open the gymnasium door. Jacob launched himself into the air and slam-dunked it. He landed hard on his feet and chased after the runaway basketball, ignoring Werner calling his name angrily.
"Hoggard! Hoggard? What the hell is this? What are you doing here?"
Jacob stooped low to pick up the ball, then turned to face the principal. "Oh hi!" he said, with mock surprise.
Werner practically growled. "Out! That's it, Hoggard! Out! It's over!"
Jacob paused, fingers turning white as he clutched the ball. "Don't you want to hear my excuse?" Something faltered in his voice.
"Out!" Werner took a step towards him and Jacob backpedaled.
"I'm thinking of trying out for a scholarship," he teased, recovering.
"Give me the ball!" Principal Werner started towards him and Jacob pretended to throw the ball at him, holding it back at the last minute. Instead, he set it on the ground and rolled it slowly to Werner. Werner gave it a violent kick and Jacob flinched as the ball hurtled by his head.
"Now, Hoggard." He grabbed Jacob by the arm roughly and dragged himout of the gym, winding down the halls back towards the library. He pushed him uncermoniously through the doorway, storming in after Jacob. His eyes landed on the other four students sitting calmly at their desks.
"Get your stuff! Let's go!" he snapped at Jacob. His voice was harsh when he addressed the rest of the group. "Mr. Wiseguy here has taken it upon himself to go to the gymnasium. I'm sorry to inform you, you're going to be without his services the rest of the day."
From by his desk, Jacob replied, "I'm absolutely heartbroken, sir, and I'm sure they are, too."
Werner rounded on him. "Everything's a big joke to you, huh, Hoggard? The false alarm you pulled on Friday? False alarms are really funny, aren't they? What if your home . . . what if your family - what if your dope was on fire?"
"Impossible, sir," Jacob fired back without missing a beat. "It's in Pigott's pants."
From his seat, Shane tried to cover a snicker. Werner glared at him and shouted, "You think he's funny? You think this is cute? You think he's bitchin', is that it? Lemme tell you something. Look at him: he's a nothing - a nobody."
He turned to address the entire group. Jacob shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. "You wanna see something funny?" Werner continued. "You go visit Jacob Hoggard in five years! You'll see how goddamned funny he is then!"
His eyes found Jacob again and Werner stalked over to him. "What's the matter, Hoggard? You gonna cry? Let's go!" He moved to grab Jacob by the upper arm again, but Jacob sidestepped out of his reach.
"Keep your fucking hands off me, dude!" He threw up his hands, lifted the sunglasses out of his pocket, and set them on the table in front of Sebastian, saying, "So I'll have twice as much to come back for," with a wink.
Principal Werner followed Jacob out of the room and marched him down the hall, through the offices near the front foyer, and into a small supply closet there. He stuck a finger in Jacob's face and snarled, "That's the last time, Hoggard, the last time you ever make me look bad in front of those kids, do you hear me? I don't get paid nearly enough to have to put up with punks like you. But someday, man, someday, when you're outta here and you've forgotten all about this place, and they've forgotten all about you, and you're wrapped up in your own pathetic, drunken-stupor of a life . . . then I'm gonna be there. And I'm gonna kick the living shit out of you, Hoggard."
Jacob's voice was quiet when he answered, strained and tense. "Are you threatening me?"
"What are you gonna do about it? You think anybody's gonna believe you? You think anybody would take your word over mine? Even those bratty little kids in there? I'm a man of respect around here - I'm a swell guy, and you're a sack of shit! And everybody knows it! Oh, you're a real tough guy. Come on, come on!" Werner beckoned him to take a shot, spreading his arms wide. "Let's find out how tough you are! I wanna know right now! Come on! I'll give you the first punch! Come on! I'm begging you, take a shot! That's all the excuse I need to lay you flat - just one swing! Come on!"
Though his fists were clenched and his jaw drawn tight, Jacob just stood there, breathing heavily. He met Werner's eye with a glare and Werner growled again. He faked taking a shot at Jacob, who flinched as it came at him, stopping inches before it connected with his nose.
"That's what I thought," Principal Werner spit out. "You're a coward. You don't mean anything you say."
And with that, Werner was out the door, locking it behind him. Jacob kicked at the filing cabinet in the room, then spotted a half-broken chair sitting in the corner. He looked up and smiled at the ceilings tiles. Jacob waltzed over to the chair, picked it up and plunked it down beside the filing cabinet, then climbed up. With little effort, he had dislodged the tile above his head and pulled himself up, out of the closet. Hesitantly, he set about crawling through the narrow opening. Lowly, he sang to himself as he travelled along the creaking, unsturdy beams.
"The machines are playing 'kill by numbers' down in the park with a friend called 'five'. I was in a car crash, or was it the war? Well, I've never been quite the same. Little white lies like I-" There was a louder groan of the tiles, and that was the only warning he had before the ceiling gave out underneath him and he was falling through it, cursing and screaming loudly. He landed with a thud at the back of the library, the other students whipping their heads around to see him lying in a crumpled ball on the floor.
Jacob stretched and moaned, then looked up at them and said with a shrug, "I forgot my pencil."
Out in the hall, Werner shouted, "Jesus Christ!" and his loud footsteps hurried toward them.
Jacob pressed a finger to his lips and rolled out of sight under one of the desks just before Werner kicked the door open and stormed in, his face red. "Goddammit! What in God's name is going on in here?" he shouted. "What was that ruckus?"
"Um, what ruckus?" Shane responded, folding his features into a sceptical look.
Principal Werner sputtered for a moment. "I was just in my office and I heard a ruckus!"
"Could you describe the ruckus, sir?" Amberly inquired lightly.
"Watch your tongue, young lady! Just watch it!" Werner warned, his pointer finger waving in the air.
Jacob, meanwhile, had crawled inconspicously from desk to desk, managing to dart out of Werner's sight by keeping low and hiding behind the other students' legs. He had successfully reached Shane and Sebastian's desk, curled on his knees beneath it. He tried to stretch and mistakenly kicked the leg of the table, then sat up too quickly, startled by the noise, and hit his head off the underside of the desk. Sebastian jumped in his seat and brought his hands down loudly on the desk, folding them in place. Beside him, Shane coughed.
"What was that?" Werner huffed, whirling around to pinpoint the noise. "What was that noise?"
The students shook their heads and gave Principal Werner a confunded shrug. Under the table, Jacob had inched closer to Sebastian and had set a hand on his thigh, running up towards the other's crotch. Sebastian's leg lashed out and nailed Jacob squarely in the shin. Jacob moaned and clutched his injury, while the group of students quickly tried to cover up the noise by bursting into a hacking coughing fit.
"That noise?" Sebastian asked, clearing his throat loudly. "What that the noise you were talking about? It's terribly dry in here."
"No, it - no, that was not the noise I was talking about. Now I may not have caught you in the act this -" Mookie interrupted him with a very loud, very forced cough. Werner glared at him. "You can count on that!" He turned to Sebastian, saying, "And you, too! I will not be made a fool of!"
The door had barely slammed shut behind Principal Werner as he made his exit when Jacob crawled out from under the desk. Sebastian was on his feet and on him in an instant.
"You sick, twisted -"
"It was an accident!" Jacob objected, though the shit-eating grin never left his face.
"You're an asshole!" Sebastian argued. "How the hell does your hand end up on my crotch by accident?"
"Don't flatter yourself, hot stuff. My weed is down there, remember?" Sebastian went red, his mouth flapping open. Jacob cleared his throat. "Besides, from what I felt you didn't seem to be that put off."
Sebastian snapped his mouth shut with a huff and glowered at Jacob, who held out his hand patiently for his marijuana. At last, Sebastian reached down into his jeans and pulled it out, but instead of giving it to the other boy, stuck out his tongue at Jacob and walked to the back of the room.
Jacob raised an knowing eyebrow at Shane, then followed.
"Hey, hey!" Shane called after the two of them. "You're not going to blaze up in here! What if Werner comes back?"
He looked from Amberly to Mookie in desperation, hoping for some sort of agreement. Amberly quietly unfolded her hands and stood up. She seemed to sway for a minute, towards the back of the room with Jacob and Sebastian, then the other way, where Shane was waiting impatiently for her support. Finally, she gave a small, apologetic smile, and hurried over to where Jacob and Sebastian now sat.
"Shit," Shane said, under his breath, and ran after the others.
Amberly sat cross-legged on the ground between Sebastian's legs. She had one arm hooked around his calf and the other was holding on tightly to her lit joint, waving circles in the air. All three were hunched over in a fit of giggles, and Sebastian himself was practically toppled over into Jacob's lap. He looked up, a rolled joint hanging out of the corner of his mouth, and Jacob chuckled, trying several times to light it for him before it finally caught. Sebastian inhaled and choked, coughing twice. Amberly snickered.
"And you . . . and you said, 'Chicks can't hold der smoke!'" she giggled. "But look at meeee!" She drew the last word out and crawled forward, reaching out for a magazine off a nearby rack. "Here, muscle cars and - and sports cars. That's for me."
Sebastian was not entirely listening to her. Instead, his eyes met Jacob's and he leaned forward, mumbling, "Do you know how popular I am?" His voice was somewhat slurred, as if he were drunk, but Jaocb rather thought it came from his attempt to be confidential. "I'm so popular," Sebastian continued. "Everybody in this school loves me! Loves me so much, at this school."
"Poor baby," Jacob whispered in reply, his fingers already raised to Sebastian's face and close to touching. Sebastian leaned closer, trying to make contact, but toppled over instead, landing uncermoniously in Jacob's lap. His flailing legs shook Amberly, who turned and smacked him with the rolled magazine.
Across the library, the door to the photocopy room was steamy and shut. Shane pushed it open, stepping out, with a trail of smoke following him and another puff coming from his mouth. Billy Jean by Michael Jackson was playing from a speaker somewhere inside, and Shane tried to moonwalk across the floor, his feet dragging on the carpet. He gave up and tried a few simpler moves, earning a smattering of applause from the three across the room, Sebastian having now pulled himself into a sitting position that no longer included Jacob's lap. Shane flipped forward, doing several quick acrobatics, then slipped into the scanner room, slamming the door shut behind him. The music dimmed and Shane screamed.
Principal Werner knelt beside another filing cabinet and pulled open the bottom drawer. It rattled and moaned as it went, showing the years that had gone by since anyone had bothered with these files. Dust flew into the air when Werner lifted out a folder, reading the name on it with a raised eyebrow. "Ms. Jordan," he muttered aloud to himself, "Oh Sass, a history of DUIs? One unfounded account of inappropriate sexual misconduct with a student? That botoxed old hag?"
From the doorway, Earl cleared his throat. "Afternoon, Zack."
Principal Werner sprang to his feet, dropping the file. He kicked it behind the cabinet, not quite managing the subtly he was hoping for. "Hey, Earl," Werner forced out. "How you doin'?"
"Good," Earl replied with a slight smile.
"Good, good. What's up?"
"Not much," answered Earl, wandering over to where Werner was standing. "What's happening down here in the basement in the far room with all the files that needs your attention so badly?"
"Oh, nothin', nothin'." Werner tried to shrink away, sidestepping towards the door. "I'm just doin' a little homework here."
"Homework, huh?"
Werner nodded. Earl chuckled and bent down to pick up the file that Principal Werner had dropped. He thumbed through it casually. "Confidential files, hmm?"
Werner cleared his throat and attempted to clarify. "Look, Earl . . . this is a highly sensitive area and I - I tell you something. Certain people would be very, very embarassed. I woul really appreciate it if . . . if - if this would be something that, uh, that you and I could keep between the two of us."
Earl lifted a mug shot out of the folder in his hands and studied it carefully. "What are you gonna do for me, man?"
Werner narrowed his eyes, but continued quickly when Earl moved to fold the picture and stick it in his pocket. "Well - well, what would you like?"
Earl shrugged. "You need a music teacher?"
"What?" Werner asked, incredulous.
"Well, the PTA won't be wanting Ms. Jordan around anymore once they hear about this. What a cougar."
Amberly shifted closer along the bench towards Shane and tried to hang on to that fleeting sense of giggle-inducing euphoria that had overpowered her senses just three minutes ago when Shane had pulled her away from Jacob and Sebastian at the other table. She didn't know how to flirt - it wasn't something writing essays or passing exams ever required - and she knew logically that if she was going to start on anyone, it shouldn't be the currently-engaged captain of the football team, but she pressed herself to his side nevertheless and batted her eyelashes up at him, trying to be impressive.
Shane smiled warmly and put his arm around her, but his eyes immediately travelled back across the room to the boy still sitting rigidly at one of the desks. Mookie hadn't joined the rest of the students in their little delinquency, but Shane met his gaze with cloudy eyes and Mookie slid himself out of his seat and came over.
Wanting to reclaim Shane's attention, Amberly cleared her throat and picked at the hem of her shirt. "Jacob makes it sound like you and he . . . well, you know, you and he . . . but it's not true, is it?" She felt guilty, knowing it was an unfair card to play. It worked, however, and Shane turned his gaze back to her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Jacob," Shane started hesitantly, then seemed to reconsider it and said softly, "Things happen when you're . . . It was nothing, Amberly."
Amberly glanced up, questions in her eyes, and Shane groaned internally, convinced that she would press the matter. To his relief, Mookie spoke up then, dropping to his knees and curling his legs underneath them on the ground in front of them.
"How do you like woodworking class with Flex, Amberly?" Mookie asked, his tone and expression innocent, but his eyes locked on Shane.
Beside Shane, Amberly sat up straighter in her seat, putting a hardly noticeable gap between herself and the other boy. "Just fine, I guess," she said.
"Yeah, I thought so," Mookie replied. "Your stool the other week was really sturdy."
Amberly let a small smile touch her lips, but it quickly disappeared when Mookie continued on, "I mean, I bought the same one at Wal-Mart for $29.95 four days later, but nice work all the same."
Every muscle in Amberly's body tightened and she couldn't force an excuse out of her throat quick enough. For a fleeting second, she thought she might break down into tears right then, her face ghastly white and her eyes already misting up, but then Shane lightly kicked Mookie in the shin and nodded his head toward Amberly, his arm never leaving her shoulders.
"Sorry," Mookie mumbled, his grin fading. "Kudos to you for getting away with it, though," he admitted. Amberly did not look much consoled, the horrified look still sitting on her face, so he continued, "Better to fake your way to a B then skip off and sleep your way to a miserable D. The only reason it's not an F is 'cause Flex has a soft spot for me." Mookie's eyes sparkled mischieviously, likely giving away more than he intended.
Amberly swallowed hard to calm her nerves, then leaned forward. "What do you mean?"
"We jam," answered Mookie with a shrug.
Shane snorted and said, "Is that what you kids are calling it these days?" All three laughed.
"No, but seriously, Amberly," Mookie said at last, pulling a wirebound notebook from his bag, "maybe if you hadn't been so busy writing Shane's name in little hearts, you'd be aceing that class."
Amberly went scarlet when she saw her journal clasped in Mookie's hands. "Where do you get that?" she screeched.
"Idle hands are the devil's tools." Mookie leapt to his feet and sprinted away, giggling. Amberly was on his trail in a flash, torn between embarassment and amusement. She chased Mookie, weaving through the rows of books, until at last she cornered him between a stack of shelves with nowhere to go but through her. Mookie grinned, tossed her the journal, and darted past her, his thin frame slipping by Amberly easily.
He went swiftly back to the couch which Shane had not yet left and plopped down on the far cushion, leaving room for Amberly to come sit in between when she finally made it back, her cheeks still painted bright red. She hit Mookie lightly on the shoulder with the book then clutched it to her chest tightly. "This is great," Amberly moaned. "You're a thief, too."
"Does it really have my name scribbled inside little pink hearts in there?" Shane asked, mildly curious but more anxious to set Amberly off again.
Amberly squeaked and buried her face into the jacket of the book, trying vainly to disguise her giggles. Mookie leaned back on the couch and grinned at Shane over Amberly's head.
Jacob pushed his finger through the hole in the knee of Sebastian's jeans and twirled his finger around. Sebastian giggled, though because he was ticklish or because he had just inhaled again on the joint in his mouth, Jacob couldn't tell.
"Who are all these girls?" Sebastian asked. He was skimming through the foldout of photos in Jacob's wallet, stunned by the sheer numbers the other boy had collected. Sebastian brushed his finger across one girl, a blonde, noting that in her panties and coloured handkerchief, she was one of the tamest models of the lot.
Jacob shrugged. "Some of them are girls I've dated."
Sebastian looked confused. He wanted to ask about the boys, because deep down he knew that those weren't just rumours about Jacob, but instead he asked, "And the others?"
Jacob sighed, feigning exasperation. "You dumb bimbo, the one you're fondling now is Marilyn Monroe."
"Oh." Sebastian lifted his hands away. The missing men in Jacob's catologue was still bothering him, but he couldn't find the right way to mention it. Jacob traced his finger upwards, underneath Sebastian's jeans, and suddenly Sebastian lurched away and blurted out, "Why don't you believe in just one guy, one girl?"
Jacob met his gaze. "Do you?"
"I . . . That's the way it should be."
Jacob shrugged again, looking away. "Well, it's not for me."
"Why not?" Sebastian asked. Jacob slouched his shoulders, pulling away from the conversation. It was a subject he clearly did not want to dwell on. Sebastian raised his eyebrow and at last Jacob caved.
"Why do you have so many holes in your jeans?" Jacob challenged.
It was Sebastian's turn to shrug his shoulders. "I don't know. I guess I just think it looks good."
Jacob nodded and said, "There you go."
It took Sebastian a moment, but then it dawned on him what Jacob was trying to say. He looked down at the row of wallet-sized photographs stretched out across his lap. "Oh."
Amberly shifted through the contents of Shane's wallet quietly. With a smirk, she pulled out the identification card tucked away in the back and passed it over to Mookie.
"That's the worst fake ID I've ever seen," Amberly told Shane with a laugh. "Do you realize you made yourself sixty-eight?"
Shane smiled. "Yeah, I know. I goofed it," he admitted.
"Hell, mine is better than that," Amberly said, taking the card back from Mookie's skinny fingers.
"What do you need a fake ID for?" asked Shane, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
Amberly paused, then said, "So I can vote," like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Shane opened his mouth to reply, but Mookie had shifted in his seat. Shane and Amberly watched as he reached down beside his seat, lifted up his bag, and dumped the contents on the couch by the others. Shane and Amberly leapt to their feet.
"Holy shit, man! What is all this stuff?" Shane yelped, staring down at the pile now covering the cushions.
Amberly gave Mookie a serious look. "Do you always carrying this much stuff in your bag?"
Mookie grinned slyly and replied slowly, "Yeah, I always carry this much . . . shit . . . in my bag." He gave the word more emphasis than he should. "You never know when you may have to scram."
Amberly reached out and began fingering through the mess. There were wrappers and candy bars and dime-store novels and rolls of tape, even the lock from Jacob's locker. She picked up a tampon and frowned at Mookie. "Are you gonna be, like, one of those weird homeless guys who walk around talking to walls and pushing a shopping cart full of broken radios?"
"I'll do what I have to do," said Mookie with a shrug.
"Why do you have to do anything?"
There was a pause before Mookie answered. His voice was low and hesitant. "My home life is . . . unsatisfying."
Amberly took a defensive stance, intervention-mode clear from the look in her eyes. "So you're saying you're saying you'd subject yourself to the violent dangers of the Chicago streets because your home-life is unsatisfying?"
Mookie's eyes were wild, like a feral cat backed into a corner. "I don't have to run away and live on the streets," he explained, too fast and words tripping over one another. "I can run away and - and go to the ocean! I can go to the country. I can go to the mountains! I can go to Israel, Africa, Afghanistan . . ."
Amberly let Mookie trail off then turned to Shane for back-up support. "Shane, did you have anything to say about this? Mookie here says that he wants to run away, because his home life is unsatisfying." There was that emphasis on the word again, trying very hard to be distasteful but sounding closer to empathetic.
Shane thought for a minute before answering, his words slow and deliberate. "Well, everyone's home lives are unsatisfying. If they weren't, people would want to live with their parents forever."
"I think that his goes beyond, you know, what people like you and me would consider . . . normally unsatisfying." Amberly kept her voice hushed and confidential. Shane's eyes sought out Mookie's.
Mookie snapped. "Never mind! Forget it - everything's cool!" He picked up his bag in a huff and began quickly stuffing everything back inside. Shane's hand landed softly on his arm.
"What's up?"
"No!" Mookie threw his grip off and continued packing. "Nothing's up, slick. Just forget it. Leave me alone!"
"Wait a minute," Shane interjected. "Now you're carrying around all that crap in your bag for a reason. Either you really want to run away, or you want people to think you want to run away."
"Eat shit!" Mookie hissed, then stomped off.
Amberly sank back down onto the sofa. "That boy is an island, okay? Just let him be."
Shane shook his head and went after Mookie. He slid in front of the other boy, blocking his escape route. "Hi. Wanna talk?"
"No!" Mookie replied, folding his arms across his chest.
"Why not?"
"Go away." Mookie's voice was already faltering.
Shane stepped closer. "Where do you want me to go?"
"Go away!" Mooke said fiercely, but the tears were already burning at his eyes. He went for one last jab at Shane. "You have issues, slick."
"I have problems?" Shane asked, incredulous. His hands sought out Mookie's arms and unfolding them, hanging on around his wrists in case the other tried to bolt again.
The tears were trickling down Mookie's face, but he answered regardless, saying, "You do everything everybody ever told you to do. That is a problem."
Shane nodded, not denying it. "Okay, fine, but I didn't dump my backpack out on the couch and invite people into my problems, did I? So what's wrong?" When Mookie didn't answer immediately, Shane pressed on. "What is it? Is it bad?"
Mookie nodded his head just a fraction of an inch.
"Parents?" Shane asked.
"Yeah." Shane could barely hear Mookie, who was trying desperately not to look up and meet Shane's gaze.
"What do they do?" Shane's own voice caught around a lump in his throat as he asked it.
"They ignore me," Mookie replied, quiet as a mouse. The tears were really coming now, streaming down Mookie's face, and Shane could feel his own eyes brim over. He pulled Mookie into a fierce hug and refused to let go as the other boy shuddered, racked with sobs, against him.
part one
part three