[[[Thanks to River_Rain for being an awesome Beta. All mistakes left are my own and believe me, there are a lot. Thank you to all who reviewed. I tried to respond to each and every one. And for the rest of you, don't be afraid to send an e-mail my way. Thanks and enjoy.]]]
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and places either the product of my imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
My throat feels thick and I swallow nervously as I wipe the sweat from my palms on my jeans. I take a shallow breath, trying to steady myself and not fidget. I'm okay. I'm just fine. Keeping my cool... Okay, never mind, I am so not okay. I just hope he can't sense that. As I open my mouth to speak, I wonder idly if he can hear how loud my heart is pounding, and I try to will it to beat slower.
"Mrs. Hagen, I couldn't possibly be--"
She waves her hand dismissively, cutting me off. "Oh, but you are Mr. Ferdinand. Having the same free period as Mr. Kingsley, you were the obvious choice to help him with his task. Besides, you would have spent the time helping build the sets or getting the costumes put together when you weren't rehearsing yourself! This shall be a far more productive use of your time."
"I can't just..." I look at Sean for a moment, and while I may have a crush the size of Texas on the guy, I'm not not too thrilled that he, of all people, wants to be a part of this play. I mean, these plays are everything to me, and he probably thinks there's nothing to drama and that he can get by with hardly any effort at all.
Instead of fighting Mrs. Hagen, I turn my attention to him. "Why are you even in the play? Don't you have sports to do after school?"
Sean shoots me a glare, sneering, "Yeah, football, an' I never said I wanted ta be in the play. I just hafta."
Mrs. Hagen nods sympathetically. "That's quite right. He has to make up his grade in the class and this is his extra credit. It's all set with his coach, and I'm sure his teammates will be cheering him right along."
Extra credit? There's no way he'll take it seriously! I stand up and nearly lose it. "You can't be serious! He doesn't have the experience, not to mention the dedication, for this type of play! Was there really no one else that you thought could be Romeo? Jackson's played as Hamlet before, and Iago! He'd probably do it way better than him!" By now the whole class is looking at us with rapt attention, but I am too focused on the situation at hand to really care.
"Now Nolan, I don't think it's fair of you to--"
She didn't have a chance to finish when Sean moved in front of her and got into my face, snarling, "Just 'cause you've been doin' this crap longer than me don't give you the right ta talk 'bout me like I'm not even here. I don't really give a flyin' fuck if it don't turn out well. I'm gonna do it, an' yer ass is gonna shut the hell up 'bout it."
He is looking intensely in my eyes, teeth bared like a wild animal, threatening me and all I can do is blink stupidly and stare at him. In the short seventeen years I've been living, I can attest that an irate Satchum Kingsley is a fucking hot Satchum Kingsley.
Thankfully, Mrs. Hagen has the initiative to step in before I can make a fool of myself and pulls Satchum away.
"How about you go head off to the gym to talk to your coach, hmm? I'm sure he has a plan for you to make up the days you'll be missing practice in favor of my little production." I can only watch numbly as they make their way out out of the room again.
Finally regaining control over my body, I slump into my seat, exhaling loudly. When I hear some of the class break out into giggles, I snap at them, telling them to shut up. Any other day they would probably have ignored me, but I guess standing up to Sean has given me some sort of power over them and a hush falls over the room. The rest of the class period is spent staring at my desk, replaying Sean's words in my head. Odd as it may seem, it was one of the best moments of my life.
~*~
I feel detached throughout my next two periods, almost like a zombie, as my hands and arms move mechanically, taking notes I probably won't be able to read later, and my eyes sweep over math equations and the history of Napoleon, pretending to be interested.
There are a lot of ways I had imagined my first encounter with Satchum to go; I'm in the boys locker room, pressed up against the wall by the showers as he confesses his love for me; Sean in the football stands with a microphone, singing "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" like Heath Ledger had done in 10 Things I Hate About You; And my favorite, when I drop my books in the hallway and he helps me pick them up, our fingers gently touching as we both reach for my Pre-Cal book, and he gives me that lopsided southern smile. Yeah, I know, I'm a sap.
Unfortunately for me it hadn't happened like any of that. No, instead I blew up in his face and he blew right back up in mine. Now I'm stuck spending every single one of my free periods, and most days after school, with him, playing Fairy Godmother, trying to turn his pumpkin ass into a competent Romeo.
Thunking my head on my desk, I ignore the murmurs around me, and cover my head with my arms, heaving a loud sigh.
I need to talk to Anne.
~*~
"So let me get this straight. You're going to be teaching our resident football star, Sean fuh-reaking Kingsley, how to act, every fifth period?" I nod. "For three months?" I nod again. "Alone?" I glare at her, but nod again. "Are you fucking with me?"
"Did I not just nod a billion times?! Yes, that is what I'm going to be doing! Shit..." I move my hand through my hair in frustration, ignoring the stares from the other students at my outburst, which seems to have become a common occurrence these days, and turn to focus on Anne.
She makes a face at me. "No need to get all testy. And it was only three times." She holds up her fingers, as if I need a visual demonstration, and shrugs. "Don't sound too bad."
"Doesn't sound too bad? It doesn't sound too bad?!" I look at her skeptically, my hands clenching into fists. "Have you not been listening to me? I'm going to be spending an hour, every day, alone -- and that means by myself in case you don't know -- with Satchum Kingsley, the guy who I have a..." I pause to look around, making sure no one is listening before leaning over to her and whispering, "a crush on!" I sit up and give her a 'come on!' look.
"Don't patronize me Ferdinand. And I see your point, but I'm still compelled to say 'so what?' Isn't this a good thing? I mean, now you can lay down your moves." She waggles her eye brows and gives me a lecherous grin. I give her one of my fathers patented 'You're a moron' stares.
"It is so not as simple as that. For one, not everyone is a flaming queen-"
She interrupts me by shaking a spoon at me, speaking around a mouthful of pudding, "Hey, don't be too sure. It's always the ones you least expect."
I roll my eyes. "They say that about psycho killers that go on killing sprees and rapists, which I hope to God he isn't. I can just imagine what that'd do to my fragile state of being."
She laughs and smacks my shoulder. "Oh shut up. But really, it can apply to anything."
"Whatever, my point is, he's straight, and if he catches wind of my feelings, him and his jock buddies are gonna pummel the living shit out of me!"
She sets down her food and looks me dead in the eyes, her lips pulling back over her teeth as her mouth forms into a snarl. "That will never, ever happen Lanie. I swear to God, if their sorry asses even -touch- you, I'll murder them."
I giver her a fond smile and put my hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Well, it's never going to come to that, okay?" Pulling at my collar, I sniff and give her a grin. "'Sides, I can hold my own."
It's her turn to roll her eyes and she picks her spoon up again. "Oh please. Your dad teaches you a few self defense moves back in the seventh grade, you give one kid a black eye, and you think your the baddest shit this side of Seattle."
"Stop hatin' on my crazy, mad skills!"
"Yeah, right."
"...Shut up."
"Thought so."
"You're a pain in my ass."
She snickers, "The only pain in the ass you'll ever have."
"Perv."
"Virgin."
"Slut."
"Wanna-be slut."
Her come-back is met with my silence and she whoops in victory, stealing my pudding as her prize. I let her take it and opt to smack my head on the cafeteria lunch table. I'm not that hungry anyway.
~*~
Sean tries to keep his face as neutral as possible while his teammates continue to harass and ridicule him. Their coach just finished telling them why he will be absent from practice two to three times a week. Now that he's out of earshot, they are having an absolute field day with the news.
He squares his shoulders and tries to do what his father has drilled into him since he was a kid. "Never let 'em see ya sweat Satchum, it's a sign of weakness. Ya don't wanna be weak, do ya?" Even if it was in reference to sports he's sure it applies quite nicely to this situation.
But when Matt Arkin throws his arms around Sean, crying out, "Oh Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou my hunky Romeo!" in a horrible English accent, laying a sloppy kiss on his cheek, he has just about had it.
The flood gates open, and Sean becomes a torrent of anger. He seizes Matt by the shirt collar and throws him to the ground. His fists rain down on the other boy with such fury that Matt can barely block, let alone fight back. Sean can faintly hear his teammates chanting "Fight! Fight! Fight!" in the background, but it's all drowned out by adrenaline, and an animal instinct to hurt, all focused on Matt. His fists connect with jaw, arms, chest -- anything they can get to -- and all the while Matt howls in pain, begging him to stop, but his cries fall upon deaf ears.
Suddenly, he's swinging at air and he drops his arms briefly. It is then that he notices the feral shouting and it's only when he pauses to get air back into his lungs that he realizes that it's him. In front of him, Matt stands up with a scowl, muttering, "Son of a bitch!" under his breath. Sean's eyes narrow and he lunges forward, but there's something on his shoulders holding him back. He sees Matt flinch before he is reeled around and shoved toward the group of boys behind him. Reality seems to flood back into his world; his rage fades. He turns around to see his coach standing between him and Matt, and feels his blood run cold.
"Now, I don't give a shit who started it, but I'm sure as hell going to finish it! Arkin, Kingsley, you just earned the team some terrible twenties." The coach ignores the resounding groans and finishes off his threat with a shout. "Now get your asses in gear! Move, move, move!"
The team immediately disperses, splitting into two groups, each heading for different ends of the field. The group that Sean follows glares at him but say nothing since one of the assistent coaches aren't too far behind them. As soon as the whistle blows they drop to the ground and start to make their way through twenty push-ups.
Sean finishes his before most of the other boys and takes off running down the field towards the other group. Hearing the clod of heavy footfalls behind him he hazards a look over his shoulder and sees Adam Jacobson, his best friend, hurriedly catching up to him.
"Way to wait for me buddy." Adam says between breaths, but easily keeps up with him.
Sean shrugs as best as he can before replying, "Didn't know you was in my group."
"So what was all that," Adam waves haphazardly with his hand towards where the fight was before, "Back there? I've never seen you so..." He pauses when they come to the end of the field and drops to the ground next to Sean as they start their twenty sit-ups, "Angry. Like that I mean."
Sean doesn't say anything right away and does a few sit-ups before he gives his friend a vague reply, "I was jus' angry is all. Camel's back an' all that."
Adam barks out a laugh and stills for a moment as he looks over at Sean, "That is a load of horse shit and you know it. Dude, what's up?"
Heaving a sigh Sean stills on his back, staring blankly upward and gives a small shake of his head, "Jus' some stupid bullcrap. I hafta give up my free period fer that play shit. An' I was already mad 'bout it and then the guys, an' that asshole started all that. They jus'..." Sean grits his teeth and feels the anger start to bubble back up inside him and it threatens to spill over. It doesn't get the chance to, however, since the coach took that moment to notice their inactivity and he starts to threaten them and tells them to get their asses moving.
They don't talk any further as they finish out their punishment. Adam knows Sean well enough to see that his friend needs some time to cool off and to put his head back on straight.
They finish after what seems like forever and the coach's eyes sweep over the boys. They're all breathing heavily, some laying on the ground exhausted, other bent over, hands on their knees as they try to catch their breath.
He decides to take pity on them and yells, his voice gruff, "You're all useless today. Hit the showers, you little ingrates."
Sean sighs heavily in relief, and walks at a snails pace towards the locker room. His whole body aches and his legs feel like their made of jelly. He silently swears to himself that he will never fight in his life again if that's what the consequence is going to be.
He moves numbly through the motions and strips off his gear mechanically. He doesn't take the time to enjoy his shower, the need to get home almost overwhelming as he feels the glares and hears the mumbles of his teammates around him. He manages a small smile as he walks passed Adam on his way out, the other boy giving him a wave as he towels off his hair.
Clambering into his car he barely manages to turn on the ignition before his phone rings. He glares at the offensive device before flipping it open, giving a gruff, "What?" to whoever's calling, letting them know exactly how much he does not want to be answering their call.
"Well don't I jus' feel all warm an' buttery inside hearin' yer voice missy mae."
Sean's eyes go impossibly wide, "Grant?"
He hears a chuckle on the other end of the phone, "Hello to ya too little brother."