Straight Boys - Chapter 21: Chapter 21

I didn't tell my dad that I was going to homecoming. I didn't tell him because I knew he'd worry. He would pester me with texts and reminders of my punishment; and he wouldn't stop until I'd give in. So I didn't tell him I was going to homecoming, only that I was going to study at the library: that cliche lie that everyone tells their parents and they somehow believe.
I mean, I was technically going to the library. I just wouldn't go inside of it, rather walk past it to go to the gym after the football game.
Which, yes, I was going to. Coach Matthews and Mr. Johannes did say I could go after all. It wasn't like I had the strength to argue about it with them anyway. After thoroughly thinking it over so much in the mere week I've had to do nothing but spend my time watching over Lola's progressive healing and mom's steady nothingness, I had actually realized and come to terms with the fact that, yeah, they didn't need me anymore, and I actually should have quit a long time ago. I know I've thought it over before, but this time, I'd really started believing it wholly. This time I was finally all knowing in a sense. I was only still in it for the feeling of kind of having friends.
Once you've realized that you aren't the friend making type, though, you kind of see no point in trying to make them in the first place. But maybe I wasn't only in it for the feeling of having people to talk to on my spare time off; maybe I actually felt like I had a purpose in that team, that I was achieving something by leading the guys to greatness.
It didn't matter anymore, though. So why ponder on what I actually wanted out of playing football and just get on with my life and the fact that I actually felt better not playing it. Even though it was a only seven days I had been out of football, I was already feeling relaxed; less like a punching bag and more like myself.
However, that didn't mean I hadn't felt anything kin to Self-loathing and bitter jealously when I had seen the boys playing a game without me in person.
It was around 8 o'clock on a Friday night and the game was already started by the time I arrived. I was dressed in my nicest button down, which was maroon, and a pair of dark jeans. It was for homecoming, so why dress in a tuxedo? Hell, why put in the effort anyway? I actually had a date, which I guess counted for something.
Mandy, upon seeing my long legs carrying me up the bleacher stairs, had waved at me like one of those car dealership balloons. I couldn't leave her looking just a tad bit like a five year old waving to their best friend, so I sort of waved back. It wasn't a huge one, but it was enough to put a free smile of joy into her toy box of expressions.
It made me smile.
She was cute, in this innocent sort of way, with her short, blonde hair and wide eyes as bright as the moon; she could have been a princess if this was a fairytale.
I mean, I was never going to say this to her face - or anyone's face for that matter - because it would lead to complicated circumstances and I never wanted those with any girls. I only did simple, and if it meant a night of slight chaos mingled between lust and a good time, then so be it; but Mandy Hartfield seemed like a girl more on the lines of being... something different.
She wasn't a Gretchen Yondi, or a Mandy Grace. Fuck she definitely wasn't a Paula Dallas from sophomore year.
She was something new and I didn't know if I wanted to celebrate it or embrace it or... what the fuck ever it was you were supposed to do in things like this.
What not to do was fall in love. Never fall in love with a girl. They only go down roads of trouble. Maybe one day I would, but not any time soon. Not with my family in the hospital and most obviously not with a girl like Mandy Hartfield. She was too good to break.
Because that's what would happen if I fell in love with her. I'd only break her heart, or maybe she would break mine. So none of that could happen.
That didn't mean I couldn't maybe have some fun with her... in a platonic sort of way. Like I've said before, I didn't want to hurt her.
Frankly, I had no idea what I was doing, or where I was going to end up when everything finally ceased to play on. The silence would be deafening and I would probably lose my mind being lost in the confusion of shit I didn't know had happened. For now, though, I would just sit like the loner I am on the bleachers, and I would watch the guys throw pass after pass to the shitheads on the other team.
I had been staring out at the vast greenery of the freshly watered grass of the field, where the two teams had been battling out. I had found Zachary's number within seconds of taking my seat - number 10 - and I was already having a laugh.
Play after play, he kept getting tackled by the same person - a kid probably no taller than half of me, which is saying something. It was so funny because Zachary was getting angrier and angrier by the minute. This is what subdued my slight jealousy of the guys. Needless to say, by the second quarter, that kid wasn't in the game anymore and I was left disappointed that Zachary wouldn't get shot down by a six year.
When half time hit, everybody went to concession, the band did there show, the cheerleaders and drill team did there thing; and I myself did nothing but sit and text my dad that I might be out a little later than expected reading books.
It never ceases to amaze me how gullible parents are sometimes.
But the funny thing to me, after everything was said and done, was that football games ran slower when you were in the stand, than out on the field. They went by so much slower. I guess because, when you live in the moment, you don't really think about time and how much of it flies over you unnoticed like a cloud. When you're in the stands, however, that's a different story. That story is one where you just sit there, doing nothing but watch the clock on your phone tick away like it didn't have a care in the world or was stressed about a homecoming you didn't necessarily want to go to.
Either way I was going to the Homecoming, but just sitting and watching my ex-teammates lead a game by themselves was making me want to shoot my brains out of my head. Maybe it was because I had no one to talk to, but that never stopped me before.
You don't need friends to sit with.
Well you have Zachary, but he's out on the field.
What I needed was this night to end.
So, as soon as the game was over, I fled to the entrance of the stadium and waited for Mandy to come out.
It was a few minutes later before I felt her happiness right behind me. "Hey, Andrew!" Turning around, I hadn't quite prepared myself for the fog of teenage girl to engulf me, but it did. Her small arms wrapped themselves tightly around my neck and her perfume surrounded me in an orb of flowers. It was nice, but I wasn't a hugger.
"Hi to you too, Mandy," I coughed out. She stepped around after a second and that big smile was on her face like it always seemed to be. Her eyes were bright, too, as they stared down my attire with ease. "My didn't you dress up all fancy. I like it," if I hadn't been really looking, I wouldn't have been able to see the subtle change in her lips from a smile to a smirk.
I formed an awkward smile before saying, "Well... thanks." Mandy was about to get another word out, but in that moment, Zachary and Taylor had finally decided to show their faces. Finally.
"Andrew!" I quickly looked towards the two, and I almost doubled over.
Zachary, Zachary fucking Rogers, was wearing a tuxedo. A tuxedo. His girlfriend didn't look much different, either, only she wore a dress covered in jewels that could have been good enough to wear to prom.
"What the fuck are ya'll wearing?"
Zachary, not totally and completely wholeheartedly, smiled. "My dad's suit and tie. He was a little obsessed with highschool dances back in the day." I stared at him for a minute more before I couldn't take it anymore and busted out laughing.
His dad and my mom would be great friends.
My laughter died at that thought, but instead of letting it get to me, I cleared my throat and finally studied Zachary, like really studied. His suit was black, dress shirt white, tie maroon - what a coincidence - and he wore black and white dress shoes. He looked somehow even taller in his suit, and his shoulders more broad, while also seeming just a little bit more poised. His hair was still wet from a quick shower, but it was still slicked back nicely.
He looked nice. He looked nice because he put way too much effort into this dance. I did not, so maybe that's why I wouldn't stop staring at him because he looked so ridiculous.
So fucking ridiculous.
"Are we gonna just stand out here and freeze, or go have some fun!" Mandy cheerfully yelled, which made Taylor yell, and a chain reaction started of the three idiots next to me to shout into nothing but my ear. "Alright, alright let's go inside already, geez." Then we walked ourselves to the gym, where Homecoming was in session already. Immediately after entering, Taylor and Zach went straight to their little - or rather large - friend group, while Mandy dragged my by my arm over to the punch bowl.
"Do you want some punch?" I declined. She didn't seem too bummed about me not drinking that Satan juice, as she downed a whole styrofoam cup of it in one gulp. My eyes widened, and I could feel my lips rising because I knew it was spiked and I should have told her, but I suddenly didn't think she cared at all. Her face didn't even flinch as she drank the red colored spawn of all things terrible.
Mandy, after making another cup, looked up at me and said, "Do you want to dance?" She wore her puppy dog eyes and jutted her bottom lip out. It didn't affect me at all. It only made me want to laugh, but that would have probably made her mad, so I didn't. What I did do was glance around the gym - a gym full of either jersey wearing assholes or cocktail dress wearing bimbos - until I laid my eyes on the couple talking to Gretchen Yondi and her date.
"Actually let's go talk to Zachary and them over there, what do you say?" She sighed, but nodded anyway. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and guided her towards them because everybody in that vicinity knew she was bound to be tipsy from only one drink. She was a small girl, a sophomore, so she must have been inexperienced. At least I thought she was.
". . . and I am not about to go over there when I know that bitch is -"
"Andrew! There you are. Where the Hell did you go, dude?" Yondi was talking about something, but Zachary had shouted over her, obnoxiously spinning around with a flair of his blazer to follow his movements. When his eyes met mine, he froze, this pained expression on his face that just screamed 'Get me out of this situation.'
I raised my brow up in confusion. He didn't readily answer me, well because he was too busy glaring at someone, but before I could tell who, he was back to looking at me. "I thought you guys followed us over here, but nope. Ya'll just disappeared. Poof, gone. Without a trace." I had started noticing that Zachary would try to make jokes and be funny to distract the person he was talking to from the real truth. I had started seeing him do this and was getting used to it. He did it to me all the time, yet sometimes I really did want to know what he was thinking, not that he was trying to distract me.
So all I said in retaliation was an, "Oops," and gave him a small smirk, to which he returned.
Gretchen Yondi, however, finally decided to speak up again after the few minutes I've been over here. "Andrew!" She pushed her way through Taylor and Zachary, jumped into my arms and effectively removed my arm from around Mandy Hartfiel's shoulder. Yondi smelled the same as always, like cinnamon, and her style was the same, too. A low cut, fancy blouse and dark washed skinny jeans probably a few sizes to small to actually fit comfortably around her wide hips. She was the same Gretchen Yondi I'd known since the start of my highschool career, so it was only natural of me to hug her back. It was only slightly awkward with the imagines of her naked and begging me to keep going slowly working their way through my brain.
"Hey, Gretchen!" The dark haired woman slowly let go of me to get a once over of Mandy. "Mandy." The two girls exchanged greetings, Gretchen with razor sharp eyes and Mandy with a flowery gaze as if she knew something Gretchen didn't.
I sought out Zachary, asking him what the Hell was going on. He shrugged, smiled a very suspicious smile and gave me a thumbs up. "Look at this! What a couple of... great friends we've got here." Zachary stepped forward, squeezing his way through Gretchen and I to rest his arm on my shoulder. Gretchen, scoffing, crossed her arms in annoyance, but didn't object. I, pursing my lips, didn't know what the Hell was going on. All I knew from my careful observation was that Gretchen did not like Mandy, Taylor was oddly quiet, and Zachary, as always, was on top of me.
Like you're not used to it.
I started to talk with confusion in my voice, "I'm not friends with -"
"Like I said! Great friends," but Zachary had emphasized what great friends we all were to get me to shut up for some reason, like he, too, knew something I didn't. Why does everybody know something I don't?
"Hey!" Finally, after watching us for the past five minutes, Taylor decided to give us her two cents. "Why don't we go dancing. I love this song!" The boy with a lava filled arm leaned further against me to turn around and give his girlfriend a nod. His hair, now dried, tickled the side of my face, and his hip was connected to mine; and somehow, it was too hot in this gym full of people dancing and sweaty football players hyped after winning their game, and I couldn't take it. I was about to disconnect from Zachary's hold, when Mandy and Gretchen, at the same time, both grabbed either arm and took me away to the dance floor. Close behind was Zachary and Taylor, and it hurt my neck to see them following, but it was worth the sight I caught. Zachary was looking at me and there was this look to his face that matched mine. It somehow clicked that his closeness was slightly uncomfortable for him too, yet he didn't regret it. He didn't regret getting so close that it was painful.
My attention was whipped away by the two girls playing tug-a-war with my arms.
"Andrew, you're my date, why don't you dance with me?"
"I know you remember the good times we had over the summer. Let's have one more right now."
"Uh..." After we had ended up in the middle of the 'dance floor,' I took away from arms from the two girls, rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly and looked down trying to come up with adequate excuses as to why I didn't really want to dance. I could have told Gretchen to piss off because once was enough, and I could have taken Mandy away from this situation to calm down all this estrogen flying in the air for some odd reason, but I didn't get a word out of my mouth. People just loved to interrupt others. "Andrew, I swear to God if you don't dance," Zachary was next to me again, Taylor latched onto his side much like he was to mine moments ago. He raised his brows and broadened that immortal smirk of his.
"But I don't dance!" Mandy giggled to my left, Gretchen roled her eyes, but had a smile and Taylor, much the same as her boyfriend, smirked. "Nobody said it had to be good. It's dancing. It doesn't have to be good." Taylor could have been right, but nobody listens to their basic enemy.
"I'm... sorry but I just don't dance." I sucked donkey ass at dancing so of course I wasn't about to embarrass myself in front of half the school. "How about instead, I uh... I need to go to the restroom." I quickly slipped away from that situation, not particularly sorry for leaving Mandy behind all by herself. I didn't know what to tell them, so I left. It's one thing to be embarrassed because I'm not good, but it's another not wanting to dance.
I was down the hall almost to the restroom when I felt a hand snaking around my wrist. I thought the hall was empty, it looked empty, but I didn't account for a person to follow me. "Andrew." That person was Zachary. He pulled me back towards him, but didn't drop his hand after we were face to face. If anything, he maneuvered it down to rest in my palm, and God help me, I didn't mind. It was the weirdest thing, yet I held his hand anyway because it felt nice.
I felt more comfortable than when Gretchen hugged me.
"Where are you going?"
"To get some air."
Zachary tilted his head in question, wanting me to elaborate, so I did because he was the type of person you could confide in just so easily. "I'm don't want to dance because... I don't want dance. It's not that I'm not good at it, it's just that I, I only dance with Lola." The grip Zachary had on my hand tightened, but I don't know if he noticed this. I don't know if he even noticed he was still holing my hand.
And that was a problem because the sound of foot steps down the hall were getting very close to us. Like a little kid caught stealing from the cookie jar, I swiped my hand away from his and took a step back just as the dark figure of what looked to be a guy came sauntering down the hall. Zachary and I both squinted our eyes to see who was coming to the dance so late and both of us couldn't believe our eyes.
"Corbett?"
My jaw clenched, as did my hands into fists. Zachary furrowed his eyebrows and stepped slightly in front of me. I think he did it by accident or subconsciously, but I kept quiet about it. I kept quiet about a lot of things he did surrounding me. "What are you doing here, Corbett?"
"I came to the dance with Allison." So the rumors were true. What a surprise.
"Aren't you suspended? You're breaking the rules being here." I didn't want him to be here, so I made it clear. He broke my face - it was mainly my fault, but if he hadn't come to my table that day, then I wouldn't be recovering from a nasty black eye, busted lip and slight blow to my insanity.
"Yeah, well, when have I ever been good at following the rules." He smirked wickedly as he continued. "I see your face is healing up fine," he came forward and grabbed at my jaw, tightening his hold ever so slightly to shake my face. It only lasted a second, him looking at my face and running his fingers under my chin, before Zachary had wrenched his hand away for me. I grabbed at my jaw, trying to wipe the feeling of his hand off of me. A look of complete anger and resentment was held against Zachary's features as he gruffly spoke through his teeth, "Get out of here, Corbett, before I tell Mr. Johannes what you're doing here."
"Like you did before? Well I've got news for you, Zach, I don't care. What can he do? Suspend me for longer? I don't care." Like he did before? What did Corbett mean by that? Why was Corbett fucking Conners even here, really? It wasn't actually for Allison. It couldn't have been because they hated each other. What the hell was going on tonight?
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Whoops.
Heheheheheh... heheh.. heh.
I didn't update for almost two months.... oof.
I'm Sorry. I let time get away from me, and my problems build up.
Well hey, at least I've made a new friend since we've all last seen each other. He's a real catch. So relatable, and people like that are hard to find so I've been trying to get to know them better so I don't lose them.
It's all good though.
I noticed that yall thought I updated yesterday. I did, but I had to unpublish it because it wasn't finished. Whoops again.
But, as always, questions? How'd yall like this chapter? It was a little rushed because I wanted to finally update after a freaking 20 year hiatus. But thoughts on Corbett?
What do you think his motives are? Hmmm. I'm still thinking that myself.
Don't forget to VOTE and COMMENT because you guys know I love it when you do.
And yeah this chapter wasn't edited so sorry for all the mistakes I made rushing for you guys. ;) but at least it was longer.
Anyway, thanks for staying and please wait for Zachary and Andrew's relationship to start developing a little further. I'm really trying to bring it to the next level, but it'll take a few more chapters before I can make it obvious.
By lovelies!