Disclaimer: If you aren't legally supposed to be reading this, then don't, but I'm not gonna stop you. If you feel uncomfortable reading works about gay, bi, or whatever teens, then why are you reading this? If ever you want to use any of this story, ask me. The answer should be yes.
-Countquestions
Stupid Jerk: I Hate Drama
People can be so stupid sometimes. So fucking stupid. Stupid beyond belief. iErradiquelos, todos los estupidos en el mundo! Look at me ranking. I really shouldn't be, for the person I was angry with the most was myself. Angry for trusting Sandra yesterday. That girl has a sick sense o humor. What I failed to be aware of last night is that Sandra is known for pranking people. She may be a tomboy/cheerleader and whatever-the-fuck else, but ella es una bromista. She plays pranks. I had never given her pranks any thought because last night was my first time being on the receiving end of one.
I can assure that someone had taken a pike and shoved it through my head. At least that's what my headache told me. My body was sore all over, and standing up was not an option unless completely necessary. Every time I tried standing, my body would shout, "iTanto! What is wrong with you?!? Sit down!" Being the idiot I am; I would still try to move about, never getting far. Somehow, I always ended back on my bed, only to wake up again with another throbbing headache.
"Buenos dias, mijo," Dad said annoyingly bubbly. His voice pierced my ears like a sharp dagger. He had a glass of some reddish brown concoction in his hand as he came over to my bed. I took a gulp knowing exactly what that drink was.
"Por favor, cocho. No me hables." Against my better judgment I told him not to talk.
"OLE!!!" he yelled, and trust you me; my ears burst into flame. No joke. I tried my best to glare at him, but at that moment the glass of the reddish brown goop was shoved towards my face. "iLevantate! Sit up. Bebelo,"
I shook my head. I would not be drinking any such thing.
"Mijo, drink it. It'll chase your hangover away," he assured me.
I shook my head again. I must been about six or seven the first time I made it for him. He'd shown up after some party or night clubbing, drunk out of his mind, collapsing on the pullout couch, which at the time served as our bed. (Man, was that studio apartment small, but it was all a twenty-two-year-old student with a seven-year-old child could afford.) He woke up the next morning vomiting into the toilet. I went to check on him and a piece of paper was shoved at me. "Hazlo," he slurred over the side of the toilet. So I did. I made my first "hangover-be-gone". The first of many. However, when I made it, never was it this color, nor had I ever tasted it for it smelled like toasted ass.
"Sabes what it is. Bebelo," he shoved the glass at my mouth again.
I reluctantly took the glass from him and did my best to hold my nose. I brought the glass up to my mouth and quickly swallowed. My stomach and throat lurched in repulsion. "iAy! Que is this? Poison?"
"Callate. Drink it." Holding my nose again, I took a tiny sip. "All of it," he commanded. I downed the rest, and my stomach bitched slapped me a couple times before it calmed down. I wetly and throatily coughed. Dad laughed and asked me what I had to drink at the party.
"Nada mucho. Hpnotiq as usual. Some vodka and Red Bull, which usually charges you, but it--"
"Knocked you out. I know. After you passed out, Sam y Darryl brought you here immediately. I was quite proud of them. They brought you home, first thing. They even had whatever you'd drunk last," he paused looking me over. HE nodded. I knew what he was thinking. The hangover-be-gone had kicked in. He was right. Our talking no longer set my ears aflame, though there was still a pounding right between my eyes. He must have read my mind, "The pounding will go away soon."
"How do you do that?" I asked him.
He laughed deeply and shook his hair from his face haughtily, "I've taken care of you since you left the hospital. I held you before Merisol--" (my mother) "--did." He looked up towards the ceiling, thinking. "I think first time she held you cuando you were one. Then sometime a year later. But, moving on. When you've raised someone right out of the womb, you tend to keep tabs on them." He laughed and got serious, "Now, when I tasted what was in your Red Bull can, si, hay Vodka, and Red Bull. Pero, I think you got duped. How'd you get the vodka?"
"George March," I answered.
"Georgia, the little girl who was on the boys' futbol team when you were in middle school? The tomboy?" he asked.
"Yeah," I laughed at how he just came out there and called her a tomboy.
"Pues, George gave you more than just vodka. It tasted like gin, too, but I believe she slipped you a Mickey."
I raised my brows in surprise, "That's it? Nada mas? If she just slipped my some pill, then por que me duele mi cabeza?" I asked him why my head hurt so much.
"Mijo, you had Red Bull, vodka, Hpnotiq. Are you sure there wasn't anything else?"
"I don't really remember. I think SoCo, tambien," I answered. He tried his best to frown at me, shaking his head left to right. "Cocho, how many times I had to make that hangover-be-gone for you? Don'tcha be gettin' all high and mighty."
He held his hands up in an I'm-not-guilty way, "Si, si, si. Estas correcto. Los otros--" (The Others, he was referring to Darryl, Deirdre, and Tom, and changing the subject) "--estan viniendo aca." He told me that they were on their way over. I started to get out of bed, but he pushed me back. "No te mueves. You aren't supposed to move. Doctor's orders."
"Huh?" I asked.
"No recuerdas?" he asked me if I didn't remember something. I shook my head. "You have a mild concussion. It's on the side of your head, mijo."
I felt the left side of my head. Nothing there. Right side. Yep. There was a patch of hair gone, and it had been replaced with a large knot covered in gauzy pads and medical tape. I looked onto Dad with shock, "iDonde esta mi pelo?!?"
At that moment Tom stepped into my room, "No esta alli. Doctor Kaiser clipped it down before she patched you up."
"Pero, no lo finja Senora sin cortarlo?"
"No, she had to cut it," Tom said simply.
Deirdre walked up behind Tom. It was funny because even though she was slightly taller, his mane of hair blocked most of her face. She made a part in it, peeking through. "Oh, Paco, don't be gripin' about it. Just cut the rest. Even the shit out. It'll be a new look."
I pouted at her. Yeah, I know it was childish, but I pouted anyway. I loved my hair, and this summer I had just gotten it to the length I wanted it to be. Don't look at me that way. I can have my shallow moments just as long as they are few and far between. I can!
Darryl slowly came into the room, and oddly he wouldn't look me in the eye. He muttered a hello.
"He been like this all day," Deirdre rolled her eyes in his direction.
"Hay muchas personas en un espacio pequeno. Hasta luego, nenes," Dad announced his exit and left the room.
Deirdre moved me over and plopped onto my bed. "How ya feelin'?"
"I'm okay now."
"Good, so wonderful party last night. Well, all except your injury. And we'll see to it that that bitch George gets what she deserves," she looked ahead with determination.
"Deirdre," I began but Tom finished, "Calm down. It was all in fun."
"But she slipped him a pill! Somethin' that knocked him out. He has a concussion!"
I sat up some more. At that moment I realized I was naked. Damn. Why is sleeping nude so comfortable? I made sure the covers stayed plied to my waist. I saw that Darryl noticed my predicament. He smiled lightly and went back to trying to be invisible. I nudged Deirdre, "It's a mild concussion, and I'm not really that mad about it except she ruined my hair."
"Get over your hair, Paco," Tom scolded.
"This coming from Simba with that mane around your head!" I said tersely. He looked at me guiltily and said nothing. "I thought so. Darryl do you think your mom could--"
"She'd love to," he answered quickly, looking antsy. As antsy as a hulk like him could look.
"What's she gonna do?" Tom asked quietly.
"Cut his hair," Deirdre answered.
None of us said anything. I could see the clockwork going on in Deirdre's head: How do I get George back? Hmmm. Tom now acted like Darryl. Distant. And I was the only one stuck here. Damned concussion. `When did the mood change to this?' I asked myself.
Deirdre feigned a look at a watch that wasn't there. "Well, it's Saturday, and last night I promised Kara that we would go shopping." She glanced at me questioningly.
"She ain't my girlfriend anymore. Have fun. Your shopping, disfrutalo. But you'll be back tonight, right?" I asked.
"You aren't supposed to be up and about. You need to heal," she cooed and lightly touched the patch. I winced. "See?"
"I am not staying confined to this room all day long. So you think about what movie we're gonna see, okay?"
"Stubborn bitch," she smiled and paused as she left the room. "Tom? Greetings to Mr. Sistrunk. Aren'tcha coming?"
Tom looked down and scratched his head, "I-uh-I..."
I smiled, "Don't worry, she's dragged us along, too before. It's about time for you now."
He exhaled, visibly relieved. "Well, I'll see y'all tonight, then?"
I nodded. They left, Deirdre waving over her shoulder.
"So how long you gonna stand there all silent and brooding?" I asked Darryl. He looked up quickly as if he just realized where he was. "Que es el problema?"
He shrugged and turned away from me. "Technically I'm not s'pose to get up. So you are gonna have to turn around and talk to me."
He turned around. His face was screwed up in his usual confused expression. He brought his mouth to a point on the left side of his face and gazed towards the ceiling. "Talk to me," I offered.
"It's just . . . I just . . . You didn't ^Ö you didn't see . . . you know . . ."
"I didn't see que?" I asked, trying to draw out a full statement from him.
"You don't remember?" he made gestures with his hands as if they were to tell me what was bugging him.
"Am I s'pose to remember something?" I asked. This was getting annoying.
"When you came into the room last night. You know . . . before you passed out. . ." he swallowed.
"Oh, you mean seeing Sam mess--"
He interrupted me, talking in a tone I had never heard aimed at me before. This was his I-am-soon-to-fight voice. Sure, I've heard him speak like this to many another person. He was just that kind of guy sometimes. There were his moments when he filled the alpha-male, hood rat persona. "You can't tell no one about that! You ain't see shit, okay?" He stared at me while a vein in his neck contemplated bursting.
I hadn't the slightest idea what he was talking about and told him so.
"Are you telling me the truth?" he asked sternly.
It was my turn to get angry, "The truth about what? Do you think yo soy un mentiroso? When have I lied to you, huh? When? Cuando?" He looked attacked. I smiled triumphantly on the inside and began ranting in Spanish, "No me llames un mentiroso. No es justo, especialmente cuando a ti yo no miento. Lo que tu piensas que ocurrio, es incorrecto. Todos de ello. Por que me acusas? No te entiendo. Ojala que en el futuro tu--"
"iBasta ya!" he held out his hands shouting: Enough already! We stared at each other in an awkward silence. Then in unison, we had burst with laughter. We laughed until turning red in the face and falling onto the floor. We lay there in a very comfortable silence. Our heads were alongside each others, but our bodies pointed opposite directions. That silence was nice. That silence helped me remember.
"Soy correcto, yo, no?" I asked softly.
". . . right about what?"
"She's a cover, isn't she? Kara. She is cover, right? And that's how you assured me you were over me so fast," I snorted, "Doesn't hat sound arrogant?"
"So, you did see," he said with absolute reluctance.
I sat up, leaning on my elbow with my head in my hands, "It was you and Sam in the room, wasn't it?"
He turned away from me.
I pushed his shoulder lightly, "iAy! El quarterback y tu acabaron de tirarse. Don't you love it when I'm right?"
He turned very red, understanding what I said. "We weren't just about to fuck. Shit, man, you make it sound so . . . plain."
I laughed. "Que romantico. So did this start during those days that we didn't talk?" It seemed to be the only logical time to me.
"Well . . . yeah, yeah it did," he answered simply. He was being so tight-lipped about this.
"Well, whatever I encountered the beginning of. Was that its first time?" I smiled lewdly.
He turned red again. He made this so much fun. Que gran causa he was. "No it was!" he returned quickly and then added with a sly grin, "At least for as far as we got."
"Y cuan lejos era? And how far was ^Ö Dios mio! You and he were about to--"
"Uh huh," he smiled but then frowned. "But you heard what he said last. . ."
I laughed at him, "Yo tengo un confesion. I don't really remember much. Just hitting a door, seeing Sam without his shirt, falling down, and hearing a voice say my name. I just put two and two together, really."
"But how--"
"You're my best friend. Mi causa favorita. I can read you easily when I want," I explained and added, "Y yo conozco mi ex-novia. I know Kara. She would be Sam's cover because they're friends, and it doesn't ruin her precious reputation. They can `be' together and still have their own things going on the side. It's actually sadly smart."
He continued to frown, "But what he said. . ."
"Que dijo?"
"He said that what we didn't mean nothing. . ."
"He was just scared cos y'all were caught. That's all. Sabes que you both aren't out, and don't wanna risk it. That's all."
"Alright, I'll trust you. But you have to keep it secret. Will you?" his face returned to that I'm-soon-to-fight expression.
I punched his shoulder, "iClaro! I won't tell a soul. Um . . . Scout's honor!"
"But you never were one!"
"Details. Details, Darryl." We both laughed and made our way downstairs (much to Dad's chagrin) and watched TV.
Hi people, K here. Lol, that was corny. Anywho, this chapter has a LOT of Spanish in it mostly because of the Paco-Alejandro interactions. So, I'm gonna give you some nice translations to refer to:
iErradiquelos, todos los estupidos en el mundo!= Eradicate all the dumbasses in the world!
bromista= prankster
tambien= also
No esta alli= It's not there.
Pero, no lo finja Senora sin cortarlo?= She couldn't fix me up [lit. "fix"] without cutting it?
Hay muchas personas en un espacio pequeno. Hasta luego, nenes.= There's a lot of us [lit. people] in such a small space. See ya later [lit. "until then"], children.
disfrutalo= Enjoy it.
cuando= when
No me llames un mentiroso. No es justo, especialmente cuando a ti yo no miento. Lo que tu piensas que ocurrio, es incorrecto. Todos de ello. Por que me acusas? No te entiendo. Ojala que en el futuro tu--"= Don't call me a liar! It's not fair, especially when I've not lied to you. What you think happened is wrong. All of it. Why do you accuse me? I don't understand you! Hopefully/God willing, in the future you--
iAy! El quarterback y tu acabaron de tirarse.= Oh my! The quarterback and you just about to fuck each other.
Y yo conozco mi ex-novia= And I know my ex-girlfriend.
Sabes que....= You know that....
iClaro [que si]!= Of course!
I hope that helps anyone who needs it. I LOVE your feedback so hit me up at getitright10@yahoo.com. Just try to remember to say Stupid or Jerk or Your Story or anything to that effect (affect?) in the subject line cos I almost deleted some blank ones. Thanx for taking time to read my story. El proximo capitulo se anunciara muy pronto. The next chapter will be posted quite soon, I'm already working on it.
-K (Countquestions)