Vagrant Story - Go WyvernsChapter Three - Sudden DeathTake all the warnings I've given you up until now (shounen ai, foolish fangirlishness, offensive language and behavior, length) and multiply them all by at least two. MAJOR warnings here. This chapter is full of extremes, although it's still no more than a PG-13 rating. Mushy in spots, though. Oh. Um. There's also a football warning.This chapter is also known as 'Oh Look! Plot!'. ===== |
| (SCENE: Out in front of ASHLEY's apartment, the next morning. It's
about 11:20, and it's somewhat chilly, especially for October. ASHLEY is
standing outside on the curb, with his backpack over his shoulder. He's
wearing a heavy brown leather bomber jacket over a plain white button-down
shirt, jeans and Docs; he's got his hands tucked deeply into the jacket
pockets, but he hasn't bothered to zip the jacket. ASHLEY stares off into
space, thinking about nothing, waiting for SYDNEY. A tiny dark green sports
convertible, top down, roars up and stops right in front of ASHLEY, and
SYDNEY beams up from the driver's seat at ASHLEY.)
SYDNEY: Goooooood morning! Hop in! ASHLEY: Whoa, nice car! Is this a BMW? SYDNEY: Yeah, it's Mom's... she never lets me drive it, but I whined about how I had to come pick you up, and before I knew it, ta da! She let me borrow it for the day! ASHLEY: Oh, cool... (ASHLEY swings over the door without bothering to open it and into the passenger seat, yanking the seatbelt down with one hand. SYDNEY puts the car in gear and moves off at a reasonably sedate pace as ASHLEY settles back into the leather bucket seat.) ASHLEY: Damn, I could get used to this. SYDNEY: So could I, believe me... you're such good luck for me! I never get to drive this car! Nice jacket, by the way... ASHLEY: Trade you for the convertible! SYDNEY: Oh, god, don't even joke about that. My mother would throttle me. ASHLEY: Heh. Don't want that... SYDNEY: Nooooooo. Death By Mom is a fate to be most strenuously avoided. I can put up the roof, if you get cold... ASHLEY: Oh, no, this is great, actually... (ASHLEY leans his head back against the seat and enjoys the wind on his face, his everpresent bangs parting and blowing back. SYDNEY grins and upshifts as they move onto another road, then reaches over to flick on the radio.) SYDNEY: Oh hey, I love this song! (For the next couple of minutes, ASHLEY is 'treated' to the spectacle of small blond SYDNEY bouncing around in his seat and singing along with Aqua's 'Barbie Girl' at the top of his lungs. SYDNEY actually has a very pleasant tenor singing voice, although ASHLEY barely notices, because he's busy laughing.) SYDNEY: (singing) I'm a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world... life in plastic, it's fantastic... you can brush my hair, undress me everywhere... ASHLEY: (laughing) Oh god, stop it, I'm gonna die! SYDNEY: (incredibly high falsetto) Ah ah ah ye~ah! ASHLEY: Aaaaagh! (SYDNEY winks at ASHLEY, and sings LOUDER on a certain line:) SYDNEY: (singing) Kiss me here, touch me there, hanky panky... (ASHLEY whoops, and after a moment SYDNEY leaves off singing and starts laughing too.) ASHLEY: While you're driving? While you're driving your MOTHER'S CAR? SYDNEY: Aieee! Okay, maybe not! No touching! NO TOUCHING! ASHLEY: Okay! Okay! No touching! SYDNEY: No, no! Touching later! ASHLEY: Ohhhh, okay, touching later! (General hilarity until the song ends. SYDNEY flips stations for a moment, but pretty much every radio station is playing commercials now. After a moment, he gives up and turns the radio off. After a moment:) SYDNEY: ... it's only fair to warn you about John's place. ASHLEY: Uh oh? SYDNEY: Well, no, it's just... okay... my parents are well off, right? ASHLEY: Sure as hell looks that way... (ASHLEY idly rubs his fingers along the door of the BMW.) SYDNEY: Heh. Well, okay. If my parents are well off, then Callo's parents are wealthy... ASHLEY: ... uh huh... SYDNEY: And John's parents are really, really fucking rich. ASHLEY: Oooh. SYDNEY: I shit you not. His dad's on the city council, for crying out loud... anyway, it's not that his place is palatial or anything, but... you'll see. Anyway, I thought it was only fair to prepare you a little. ASHLEY: Heh. Thanks, even though I'm not sure what to be prepared for... SYDNEY: Well, there's got to be SOME surprise, right? ASHLEY: Bah. ...god, is everybody at this school rich? I swear... SYDNEY: ... a lot of them, yeah. (SYDNEY brakes and turns the wheel. The car pulls down a small, almost hidden drive and into a wooded lot. Trees arch overhead, all beginning to turn yellow and orange, blocking the sun.) ASHLEY: ... whoa? SYDNEY: John's property. We'll be at the house in a couple of minutes... ASHLEY: Well, shit. SYDNEY: Yeah. Really, REALLY fucking rich. I'm pretty surprised he's as nice as he is, to be honest, but he's always been a really... nice guy. Despite the rich. ASHLEY: Heh. (The little car pulls into a small clearing, in front of a house. SYDNEY's right... it's not a mansion by any means. In fact, it's mostly just a largish pile of gray fieldstones, set into the trees; pretty, but not large or imposing or obviously expensive or anything. SYDNEY pulls the car up next to a shiny red new Bug and parks, putting up the roof. Both ASHLEY and SYDNEY get out, slinging their backpacks over their shoulders. SYDNEY's apparently gone for comfort over style today... he's wearing a baggy snow-white rollneck sweater over loose black pants, and his Docs.) SYDNEY: (indicating the Bug) Hey, Callo's already here. Cool. ASHLEY: The Bug's hers? SYDNEY: Of course it's hers. Doesn't that car just scream Callo? ASHLEY: Uh, I dunno. I was expecting something a little less... uh... cutesy, you know? I mean, Bug screams cheerleader to me... SYDNEY: Huh. Might have a point there. Anyway, come on, this way... (SYDNEY leads the way around the house, to the front door. The place still doesn't look imposing, just larger, although the trees are tall and beautiful. ASHLEY turns around and stares out at the woods while SYDNEY knocks on the door. After a moment, the door opens, and HARDIN smiles at them both.) HARDIN: Hey! C'mon in, Callo's already here... SYDNEY: Yeah, we saw the Bug... quit ogling the trees, Ash. ASHLEY: Bah. I like trees. Hey, John. HARDIN: Hey yourself. C'mon in, you two. (HARDIN steps aside and lets them into a dark, narrow entranceway. The walls are paneled in some dark, rich, knotty wood that's glossy with age. A few pieces of completely nondescript furniture dot the entrance hall, but, again, nothing that screams money. In fact, most everything is old, battered, comfortable, and unobtrusively expensive, much like the house.) HARDIN: We're set up in the breakfast room... through here. SYDNEY: (grinning for some reason) Oh, goooood. I was hoping it was going to be the breakfast room. (HARDIN walks off down the hallway. SYDNEY stalks after him, apparently slipping back into Tiny Blond Panther mode; after a moment, ASHLEY follows... and stops dead.) ASHLEY: ... holy shit. (SYDNEY turns around and beams at ASHLEY, but ASHLEY doesn't even notice. The main room of the house is almost three stories tall, absolutely enormous and sparsely furnished, so as not to distract from... the view. The entire back wall is glass, huge panes of glass, three stories tall, gently curved outwards to display an amazing panoramic view of the woods in back of HARDIN's house. The autumn foliage is on fire, and the wooded hillside slopes gently down to a wide river, which meanders through HARDIN's property. Around the river there are several huge boulders, scattered randomly about, and a small arching bridge crosses between them. ASHLEY just... stares.) CALLO: (from the table) Amazing, isn't it? (With an effort, ASHLEY yanks his head away from the view. Nestled within the curvature of the window, there's a huge, battered, ancient wooden trestle table that looks like it could seat eight easily. CALLO is sitting here, smiling at ASHLEY. She's dressed a little more casually than at school, in a loose purple sweater and a pair of jeans; HARDIN's wearing a pair of black jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt. There are papers and books spread out all over the table.) ASHLEY: Wha? Oh... hi Callo... yeah, it's incredible... (HARDIN rubs the back of his head, grinning, a little embarrassed. SYDNEY casually reaches over and punches HARDIN on the shoulder.) SYDNEY: Oh, quit being modest. It's an astonishing view, you know it, we all love it. HARDIN: (dryly) Bah. I can be modest if I want to be, Sydney. ONE of us has to be. (ASHLEY snorts a quiet laugh. SYDNEY shoots ASHLEY a quick glance filled with significance, as if to say 'See?'.) ASHLEY: Heh. I guess I better sit with my back to the window, or I won't get anything done at all... SYDNEY: Oh good! I've got dibs on the window view! (SYDNEY races to the seat facing the window and plonks down in it, seated diagonally from CALLO. ASHLEY claims the seat next to CALLO, across the table from SYDNEY; HARDIN wanders off into the kitchen and comes back in a moment with a menu and a cordless phone, sitting down next to SYDNEY.) HARDIN: Pizza. I'm starving. CALLO: Oh, me too. SYDNEY: (plaintive wail) Fooood! Feed me before I waste away! ASHLEY: ... and you know he's only about two good mouthfuls away from doing that, too... SYDNEY: Oh, shut up, Mr. Aren't-I-Butch. John, if you dare put green peppers on my pizza, I WILL chew your ankles off. (CALLO giggles. ASHLEY grins and shucks off his jacket, hanging it over the back of his chair. After a spirited discussion over toppings, that includes SYDNEY putting HARDIN in a vicious headlock over the issue of mushrooms, a basic consensus is reached. HARDIN punches in the number and places the order, then puts the phone aside.) CALLO: ... Sydney? What happened to your wrist? (CALLO gestures at SYDNEY's brace. HARDIN looks down and blinks.) SYDNEY: Oh, man, I just had a little accident... squashed my wrist pretty good. It's not broken or anything, though, just banged up. It's a really lovely shade of purple! Wanna see? CALLO: Eeew, no. I hope you're all right... SYDNEY: Oh, pfah, I'm fine. (HARDIN pushes his fingers through his hair, repairing the SYDNEY-headlock damage, then begins shuffling through the papers on the table.) HARDIN: I'm not entirely sure where to start, here... CALLO: Oh, let's wait to get started until after we eat, John. SYDNEY: I second that. I can't think on an empty stomach. HARDIN: Works for me... hey, Ash, has Romeo been bugging you at all? You know, since the fight? ASHLEY: Sort of... I mean, it's obvious he hates me, but he mostly just sneers and says nasty shit that he thinks I can't hear. He hasn't tried to unscrew my head yet or anything. CALLO: Well, he did thump you on the back of the head... ASHLEY: (a little embarrassed) Oh, yeah, that's true. HARDIN: What? ASHLEY: Uh... I was at lunch, and he came up behind me and swatted the back of my head really hard... CALLO: And then ran, the big lummox. I was sitting RIGHT there. ASHLEY: And a good thing you were, too, or he WOULD have tried to take my head off. You guys are right, he's a psycho. SYDNEY: Always has been, too. I got my revenge, though. I told Ash the hobbit story! (HARDIN and CALLO both grin widely, obviously knowing the story that SYDNEY is referring to. ASHLEY glances from face to face, feeling just a bit left out.) HARDIN: That perm he got, sheesh, I remember that. All those godawful curls... it makes me wonder if his mother didn't hate him just a little too... (SYDNEY whoops. ASHLEY grins widely. CALLO blushes, then smiles. After a moment:) CALLO: God, Romeo... I can't believe I ever dated him... ASHLEY: Wait, wait, wait, you DATED Romeo? SYDNEY: Oh man, I remember that! ASHLEY: Forgive me, but I thought you had more taste than that... HARDIN: (very dry) It's through mistakes like that that you DEVELOP taste... SYDNEY: (fervently) Oh, tell me about it. ASHLEY: C'mon, you can't say something like that and not explain. SYDNEY: Yeah, Callo, fess up! Tell the nice Ash all about it! CALLO: (blushing) God, you guys... okay, okay. We were in seventh grade... so we were both twelve... SYDNEY: Oh, damn, that's right, at Neesa's party! (ASHLEY blinks.) ASHLEY: Wait, Neesa? The... uh... SYDNEY: The scary chick with the gray hair and the motorcycle psycho boyfriend, yes. She wasn't always like that, though. HARDIN: Not at ALL. CALLO: Well, if you guys don't want to hear the story... SYDNEY: No no! Pray continue! Damn you, John Hardin, shut up and let the woman talk! (HARDIN silently balls up the pizza menu and chucks it at SYDNEY, bouncing it off his head. Somehow, he manages to do this and still look dignified. ASHLEY grins.) CALLO: Okay, so we're at this party... it was pretty simple, actually. A bunch of us playing the radio and dancing in her living room... there wasn't anything really planned, but we all had a lot of fun anyway... HARDIN: Yeah. It was one of those parties that just somehow WORKS, despite everything, you know? CALLO: Right, exactly. So I'd just gotten finished dancing to something that was really fast, and I was tired, so I went over and sat on the couch to catch my breath during the next song... and next thing I know, Romeo's heading my way... SYDNEY: Seventh grade, so he's gotten really tall by now... CALLO: Yeah... anyway, suddenly he's on the couch, and he just... flops down and puts his head in my lap. And he grins up at me and says 'Hi!'. SYDNEY: You should have seen yourself... there's this huge stocky guy DRAPED over the couch, his feet are hanging off one end, and he's got his head in your lap, and you were sort of crunched up at one end looking nervous... CALLO: He startled me! But it wasn't like I was going anywhere... I was still out of breath and he kind of had me trapped... so anyway, it didn't look like anyone was paying any attention to us... HARDIN: ... although, of course, we'd all noticed and were watching to see what you'd do... CALLO: Oh god. Anyway. After a while it actually seemed kind of comfortable, you know? He's not bad-looking, he never was... and I'd been having so much fun at the party up until then, I was still kind of happy... so I remember I started playing with his hair... SYDNEY: And he didn't have a terrible perm to help save you from yourself... (CALLO giggles.) CALLO: Anyway, I was petting his hair, and he just closed his eyes and smiled, and right then it was easy to forget what a big bully he usually was, you know? Not like he ever picked on me anyway... so I just sat there for the next hour or so, playing with his hair and watching him smile... (CALLO appears to be slightly lost in her memories, staring at nothing, sharing everything that comes to mind. HARDIN looks just a tad uncomfortable, but ASHLEY is listening closely, and SYDNEY is mesmerized.) CALLO: And then I remember I tickled one of his ears, and he opened his eyes and smiled up at me again, and something in my stomach just turned over... he really was handsome... anyway, just then they put on a slow song, and he reached up and grabbed my hand and we got up and slowdanced... he just loomed over me, but that feels kind of nice when you're twelve... (CALLO blinks, slowly coming back to herself, and flushes just slightly.) CALLO: Um. Anyway. We danced together for the rest of the night, and then he walked me home... and that was all we really needed, you know? We were 'going together' for about a month after that. ASHLEY: ... wow. SYDNEY: They were awfully cute, really. (CALLO flushes.) CALLO: Oh, Sydney, quit it. SYDNEY: Not that I'd have said anything to Romeo, mind you. He'd have beaten hell out of me again. But they WERE cute. HARDIN: Yeah, in that Beauty and the Beast way... SYDNEY: John, quit calling Callo a beast, it's rude. HARDIN: Shush. CALLO: But we eventually broke up for no real reason at all... we just got bored... and then at the next big party, Romeo and a bunch of his goon friends were running around all hyper, throwing people into closets and trapping them there... (Both SYDNEY and HARDIN become suddenly, unaccountably quiet. CALLO doesn't notice. Neither does ASHLEY.) CALLO: I remember they threw me in a closet with Duane, of all people, and Romeo leaned against the door and peeked through the louvers and wouldn't let us out until we kissed... (CALLO covers her eyes, blushing and giggling.) CALLO: So I finally kissed Duane on the cheek, and Duane just turned BRIGHT red, poor guy, and Romeo didn't think that was good enough, but then he got bored and wandered off, thank god... Duane ran home the instant we got out of the closet, and I was furious at Romeo for MONTHS... ASHLEY: Damn, I can imagine... CALLO: I was so embarrassed. SYDNEY: (with an effort) Hey, John, I'm going to raid the fridge for drinks, okay? (HARDIN blinks.) HARDIN: Oh yeah! Drinks! I'm sorry, I should have asked... I'll get them. Ash, you want anything to drink? ASHLEY: Yeah, sure, you have any Pepper? HARDIN: Sure do... Sydney? Callo? SYDNEY: I'll have a Pepper too. CALLO: I'll stick with Sprite, I think... HARDIN: Okay, be right back! (HARDIN disappears into an absolutely enormous kitchen. We hear the soft 'chuk' of the fridge door opening, followed by random clunking noises. CALLO busies herself sorting through the papers in front of her, shifting things out of the way. SYDNEY and ASHLEY both start poking through their backpacks, digging out their history notes, such as they are. ASHLEY's are, for obvious reasons, short, and SYDNEY's are a bit patchy and covered with doodles. Shortly, HARDIN reappears, four cans of soda balanced in a stack in one hand, and a roll of paper towels in the other.) HARDIN: Pepper, Pepper, Sprite, and root beer... (Just then there's a loud knock at the front door.) SYDNEY: Pizzaaaa! HARDIN: Oh good... (HARDIN jogs off into the front hallway. We hear a brief buzz of conversation from the front door, and then HARDIN returns with two large pizza boxes. Without further preamble, the boxes are ripped open, and conversation all but ceases as the pizza vanishes in record time. CALLO only has two slices, HARDIN has three, ASHLEY has four, and SYDNEY eats a mindnumbing seven.) ASHLEY: Damn, Sydney, where do you PUT all that? SYDNEY: Hey, not like I couldn't stand to gain a little weight! See? (SYDNEY grabs the hem of his sweater and yanks it up, revealing his chest and belly. True enough, he's ridiculously skinny; all his ribs show clearly, his belly is concave, and he has no muscles to speak of. CALLO turns red and splutters into her Sprite, and ASHLEY turns red for a different reason.) HARDIN: Sydney, put your sweater down, dammit, I just ate... (SYDNEY puts his sweater back down, grinning. Then he leans forward and starts filching random bits of sausage and pepperoni stuck to the sides of the now-empty boxes and popping them in his mouth.) ASHLEY: Geez, pig. SYDNEY: (cheerfully) Oink oink. (After a few more minutes of idle conversation, lunch is deemed over. HARDIN gathers up the empty boxes and the used paper towels and vanishes with the trash into the kitchen, reappearing with another round of drinks. After another five minutes or so of random timewasting -- bathroom trips, paper shuffling, fetching of snacks, etc. -- the four of them are finally ready to start studying.) HARDIN: This is the first test we've had in History so far, so it's going to cover everything from the beginning of the year... CALLO: ... so that means everything from the end of the Lion War to the end of the Seven-Tone War Reparations. SYDNEY: ... bah, history's all subdivided into this war, that war... ASHLEY: Or at least, history class is. HARDIN: Yeah, well. Anyway. (After a few false starts, they actually do start studying. It goes something like this: HARDIN, checking his notes, gives a quick lecture on each topic in turn. CALLO, checking her notes and the history textbook, occasionally interjects something. SYDNEY listens intently, occasionally saying something snide. ASHLEY starts out by trying to take notes, but eventually stops and just listens. Whatever else you can say about HARDIN, he's obviously intelligent, and used to speaking in public. After a couple of hours, HARDIN reaches the part of his notes where ASHLEY first moved into the class, and ASHLEY's able to join into the conversation. SYDNEY stops talking entirely, and listens.) ASHLEY: So the entire problem with the reparations was that the church demanded too much from the 'infidel' countries and refused to back down, even when the government urged them to. HARDIN: Right. So, basically, it all blew up in their faces... (HARDIN continues speaking, but ASHLEY is suddenly no longer listening, because someone's bare foot appears to be inching its way up under the cuff of his jeans. Startled, he glances at SYDNEY, who's watching HARDIN with a sleepy expression on his face. SYDNEY darts a half-lidded glance at ASHLEY, and quirks him just the faintest hint of a grin before turning his eyes back to HARDIN. ASHLEY coughs, once, and gazes at HARDIN as well, in a parody of understanding. The foot inches its way up into ASHLEY's jeans as high as it can, and then just rests there lightly on ASHLEY's bare leg for a moment, until ASHLEY brings up his other foot and gently kicks it away. SYDNEY jerks in his seat, slightly, then shoots ASHLEY a quick resentful pout. Neither HARDIN nor CALLO notices. After about a minute:) HARDIN: ... so I guess that's it... CALLO: We should probably quiz each other a little, make sure we have it... SYDNEY: Yes, but not in here! I can't take it any more! Let's go out on the boulder! CALLO: Oooh! Yes! I could definitely use a break... (CALLO picks up her sneakers and starts putting them back on.) HARDIN: All right, all right, boulder it is. SYDNEY: Put on your jacket, Ash, and let's get outside before I shrivel up and die... (HARDIN darts into the kitchen for a moment and comes back with a small grocery bag and a large blanket, as ASHLEY puts on his jacket. Then HARDIN leads the way to the back door, and all four of them tramp out into the amazing view, down towards the river.) CALLO: It's so nice today... I love it when it finally gets cool... (SYDNEY lets out a loud whoop and goes racing down the hill towards the river at full speed, kicking up sprays of fallen orange leaves as he goes. After a moment, ASHLEY explodes into a run as well, easily overtaking SYDNEY and tackling him. They both go flying into a huge pile of leaves, SYDNEY shrieking with glee. HARDIN and CALLO lose sight of them for a moment, although the pile of leaves is rapidly shaking itself apart; then a leaf-covered SYDNEY comes barreling out, yelling. CALLO leans against a tree and laughs herself silly; SYDNEY does an impromptu but graceful cartwheel as ASHLEY digs himself out of the leaves. With an immense amount of gravity, HARDIN hands the grocery bag and the blanket to the laughing CALLO, then immediately races down the hill and grabs SYDNEY around the waist, lifting him easily off the ground. SYDNEY squeals and flails all his limbs as HARDIN tucks him under his arm.) SYDNEY: No fair! No fair! Ganging up on me! (ASHLEY joins HARDIN, catching both of SYDNEY's flailing ankles. SYDNEY shrieks and beats at ASHLEY, but HARDIN and ASHLEY carry SYDNEY down the hill... towards the river.) CALLO: (yelling) Oh no! No! It's way too cold, you wouldn't dare! (SYDNEY apparently believes they would, indeed, dare. Yelling, he redoubles his efforts to get free as they reach the riverbank. ASHLEY and HARDIN look at each other, calmly.) ASHLEY: Should we? HARDIN: It's tempting. (SYDNEY shrieks.) ASHLEY: But it IS kind of cold... HARDIN: And he doesn't have a change of clothes, and my clothes would be way too big for him... ASHLEY: Ah, well. We'll have to come back in the summer some time, throw him in then. (And with no further ado, they set SYDNEY gently back on his feet just as CALLO races down to join them.) SYDNEY: I hate you both! I do! I'll hate you forever! ASHLEY: You've got leaves in your hair... SYDNEY: So do you! (Without further ado, SYDNEY pulls the band from his hair and shakes out his ponytail, raking his fingers through his hair to clean the leaves out of it. ASHLEY grins at SYDNEY, not quite able to stop watching SYDNEY's hair glint in the sunlight. After a moment, CALLO starts shyly picking leaves out of ASHLEY's hair.) ASHLEY: Huh! Oh... thanks, Callo. (ASHLEY smiles at CALLO, a bit embarrassed. CALLO smiles shyly back, still plucking leaves out of ASHLEY's hair. ASHLEY takes off his jacket and shakes it, producing a small torrent of crushed dried leaves.) SYDNEY: Ack, I think I got a leaf down my pants... ASHLEY: Don't go rooting for it, dude, I don't want to see that. (SYDNEY sticks his tongue out at ASHLEY, retying his ponytail. CALLO pinkens. HARDIN starts slapping SYDNEY on the back, roughly cleaning the leaves off his sweater.) SYDNEY: Ooof! Ooof! Quit hitting me, you thug! HARDIN: I can still throw you in the river, you know... SYDNEY: ... um. Hit me, hit me, I like it? (Laughing and bickering, they all head across the large arched bridge. ASHLEY stops a moment, right in the middle, and stares downstream, watching the water flash gently in the sunlight. Then he follows the others. HARDIN leads them to one of the four massive boulders, the largest, a positively enormous hunk of rock. The boulder is easily twelve feet tall and twenty feet across, solid gray fieldstone, with smaller boulders piled around it. HARDIN pushes back the sleeves of his sweatshirt.) HARDIN: Watch your step... (HARDIN steps up on one of the smaller boulders, then scrambles up the face of the large one. ASHLEY now notices that there are small unobtrusive handholds carved in the largest boulder. HARDIN reaches the top, and SYDNEY grabs the blanket, chucking it up at HARDIN, who manages to catch it on the second throw. CALLO hooks the handles of the grocery bag on her elbow and follows HARDIN, who gives her a hand up. SYDNEY grins at ASHLEY, then scrambles up after them like a monkey, athletic as always. ASHLEY follows, much more slowly, finding the handholds carefully. Three pairs of hands grab his jacket and help him up the last few feet.) ASHLEY: Oh, this is cool... (The top of the boulder is almost flat, providing a surface easily big enough for several people to sit on. HARDIN has spread the blanket out, and all four of them flop out on the blanket. ASHLEY lifts his face into the breeze, smiling; SYDNEY sprawls out on his back, closing his eyes; CALLO opens the grocery bag and pulls out a large bag of homemade chocolate chip cookies.) ASHLEY: I could definitely get used to this. CALLO: Isn't this wonderful? HARDIN: Heh. The rock's been here ever since my parents bought the place; my dad carved the handholds when I was three. I used to spend so much time out here when I was a kid... I still do, just not as much. SYDNEY: Hell, we all spent time out here. I've spent some great hours up here myself... if I had a rock like this, I'd never leave... HARDIN: Yeah. I used to sleep up here in the summer, when I was little. SYDNEY: Oh, man, yeah, that sounds great... mind if I move in up here? You can sneak me leftovers! I can bathe in the river! HARDIN: And that would just go over so well with my parents! "Who's the naked boy in the river, John?" CALLO: Cookie? SYDNEY: ... Callo! Marry me! (Brief silence falls while everyone devours cookies. The breeze picks up a little, blowing everybody's hair around and making the leaves rustle in the trees; the river rushes quietly in the background. CALLO pulls a scrunchie out of her back pocket and ties her hair back.) ASHLEY: Did you make these, Callo? CALLO: Me? Oh, no, I can't cook at all... John's mom made them. ASHLEY: They're really good... HARDIN: I'll tell her you said so... (The next hour flows gently by. The four talk about nothing in particular -- classes, other people, their hobbies -- just enjoying the day, and the location, and the company.) SYDNEY: Well, I mean, I LIKE acting. It's fun. But I don't really think I'm good enough at it to make a living off it. CALLO: Oh, that's not true, Sydney! You're really good! SYDNEY: Aww, that's sweet of you... but no, seriously, I'm just not that good. Maybe if I went to acting school after high school, or something... CALLO: You really ought to think about it. SYDNEY: I am. But I don't know if I WANT to act, either. It's fun, but... I just don't know. HARDIN: I don't really know what I want to do either. My dad wants me to get into politics, but I hate what I've seen of it... maybe law. I don't know yet. I like debate squad, anyway. ASHLEY: ... I want to write. CALLO: Really? Ooooh... do you write stuff now? Can I read some? (ASHLEY flushes slightly, pushing his fingers through his hair.) ASHLEY: I... well, I keep a journal, but it's kind of private... I haven't really written many stories. Just... essays and stuff. I... I like words, you know? I like stringing words together in my mind. There's got to be something I can do for a living that lets me write, even if I don't write books. HARDIN: ... yeah... that sounds nice. I can write, but I don't really like doing it... CALLO: Well, if you ever feel like sharing, I'd love to read something you wrote... ASHLEY: I'll keep that in mind... thanks, Callo. SYDNEY: Hey, if you want, you can write plays and I'll act in them! HARDIN: There we go! CALLO: Oooh! I'll attend all your shows and throw roses at you during the curtain call! SYDNEY: Hey, with one built-in fan, we can't fail! John, you can be our entertainment lawyer... HARDIN: Oh, gee, sounds like fun... SYDNEY: Fine, then, you can be our stage manager... you get to wear all black and tell me to shut up! HARDIN: THERE we go! ASHLEY: I dunno, keeping Sydney quiet is a big job, John. Think you can handle it? SYDNEY: ... have I mentioned that I hate you, Ash? ASHLEY: Not for at LEAST twenty minutes... (CALLO giggles.) ASHLEY: ... so what do you want to do with yourself, Callo? CALLO: I don't really know either. I used to think I wanted to teach, but I don't any more... maybe I can be your editor? HARDIN: Sounds like a plan... ASHLEY: Bah, I don't need an editor! My every word is gold! SYDNEY: Fine, then, she can be your agent! CALLO: That also works! Then I'll get rich as you get famous... I'll be your agent too, Sydney. SYDNEY: (happily) Joy! (Another friendly silence falls. ASHLEY shifts around, laying down to stare up at the canopy of trees overhead.) CALLO: So... Ash... ASHLEY: Hm? CALLO: (eyes twinkling) When was the Treaty of Zarghidas signed? (ASHLEY laughs, stabbing his pointer finger up at the trees as he declares:) ASHLEY: 1783! CALLO: Right! (The next hour or so is spent quizzing each other about the history they just reviewed. HARDIN gets every single question right, CALLO only misses a couple, ASHLEY misses a few more, and SYDNEY get about two-thirds of his questions right, although he usually has to give a joke answer first. These answers invariably provoke laughter, and blushes from CALLO. Finally:) CALLO: I'd say we've pretty much got it! SYDNEY: I'm going to do better on this test than I've ever done before... you guys are my heeeeeroes... ASHLEY: Yeah, thanks a lot... I really needed this. HARDIN: Sure, it was fun... we'll have to do this more often! CALLO: Sounds good to me! ASHLEY: I can handle that. What time is it, anyway? (HARDIN checks his watch.) HARDIN: ... wow, almost six... SYDNEY: That explains why I'm hungry again. CALLO: Oooh, me too... hey, let's all go get something to eat... HARDIN: And then we can hit the game! SYDNEY: (somewhat incredulously) The FOOTBALL game? Are you nuts? HARDIN: Oh, come on. What's Romeo going to do, throw the football at you? SYDNEY: I wouldn't be surprised! CALLO: Aw. No. Romeo'll be too busy to even notice us, and football games are fun... ASHLEY: I dunno... HARDIN: ... plus I can get us all in for free. Being student council has its perks... SYDNEY: Oh, well, for free, why not? ASHLEY: Hey, that reminds me, how much do I owe you for the pizza? HARDIN: Eh, don't worry about it, I got it. ASHLEY: ... are you sure? SYDNEY: Ash, let the man buy your pizza! It's not like you'll have to put out in return or anything... (CALLO turns bright red. For some reason, so does HARDIN, although he's laughing, too. ASHLEY snorts and bops SYDNEY on the head.) SYDNEY: Ow! Don't hit me! It's okay, you can put out for John if you want to, don't let me stop you... ASHLEY: Shaddap! (to HARDIN) Okay, but you've got to let me help pay for dinner, okay? HARDIN: Deal. Then neither of us will be obligated to put out for anyone! SYDNEY: Not even for me? Awwwww, I wanted some nookie! CALLO: You guys are horrible! SYDNEY: No kidding, they ARE horrible, they won't give me any nookie! CALLO: That... that's not what I meant! SYDNEY: Hey, Callo? Give me some nookie? The guys don't love me... ASHLEY: Dammit, quit trying to steal Callo's nookie! CALLO: No, but you can have a cookie! SYDNEY: ... close enough! Gimme gimme... (CALLO leans over and pops the last cookie into SYDNEY's mouth. SYDNEY beams.) SYDNEY: Mmmm, cookie... (HARDIN stands up and stretches.) HARDIN: Urf. We can take my car... (Everyone stands up, and stretches, and shakes off their clothes. HARDIN picks up the blanket and tosses it off the boulder.) HARDIN: Ash, be kind of careful going down, it's always harder than coming up... ASHLEY: Okay, I got it. (HARDIN scrambles down, then ASHLEY, moving slowly. CALLO comes next, taking HARDIN's hand for the last few steps, then SYDNEY starts down, swarming down the boulder in his usual style. Halfway down, his wounded hand slips from a handhold. Pinwheeling his arms, he falls backwards.) SYDNEY: AAAAAA! (Quick as thought, ASHLEY dashes forward and catches SYDNEY, getting driven back onto the ground by the sudden weight of SYDNEY in his arms. SYDNEY's butt lands on ASHLEY's belly, driving all the air out of his lungs.) ASHLEY: WHOOF! CALLO: Ash! HARDIN: Oh shit! SYDNEY: Oh fuck! Ash! ASHLEY: (wheezing) Get... off... me... SYDNEY: Oops! (SYDNEY quickly rolls off ASHLEY and stands up, massaging his hurt wrist. ASHLEY lays sprawled on the ground, whooping in great heaving breaths.) HARDIN: Are you two okay? SYDNEY: Oh, yeah, I'm fine... Ash? ASHLEY: (still breathing heavily) Give me a... sec... god, he weighs more than... he looks... SYDNEY: Are you calling me fat?! (CALLO reaches down and catches one of ASHLEY's hands, helping him stand up; then she nervously brushes him off.) CALLO: Are you okay? ASHLEY: Yeah. Yeah, I think so. SYDNEY: Damn, I'm an idiot... I've never fallen off that stupid boulder before... ASHLEY: Aah, forget it, let's go eat. You can pay for my dinner to thank me, Syd. SYDNEY: ... damn the luck! Can't I put out instead? ASHLEY: No way, man, Callo doesn't want to see that shit. (Another round of laughing, complete with blushing CALLO, as always. After a moment, HARDIN fetches and folds up the blanket, and they all head back towards the house, laughing. ASHLEY rubs his abused belly absently.) (SCENE: In front of Lea Monde Stadium, about an hour later. Technically, it's dark out, but the huge banks of lights over the Stadium light the area up bright as day. The parking lot is very, very full, and people are streaming into the stadium from everywhere. Cheerful waves of chatter fill the air. An unobtrusively expensive dark blue Volvo pulls into an unoccupied space, and ASHLEY, SYDNEY, CALLO, and HARDIN pile out.) ASHLEY: Damn, this place is huge... SYDNEY: Yeah... damn. I haven't been to a football game in... uh... three years? CALLO: They're not that bad, really... I hardly ever pay attention to the game, though. It's just... fun. HARDIN: Philistines. C'mon, this way. (They follow the lines of people up to the entrance. But instead of going to the ticket booth or the turnstiles, HARDIN leads them to a small chain-link gate, off to one side. A security guard comes to the gate, ostensibly to shoo them away; HARDIN pulls out his student ID and shows it to the guard, who checks his clipboard and then lets them all through the gate. They quickly rejoin the stream of humanity entering the stadium proper.) SYDNEY: (teasingly) Damn, John, it gets me so hot when you use your influence to do these sweet things for me... can I be your bitch? Please? (The tips of HARDIN's ears flush red.) ASHLEY: Dammit, Sydney, I thought you were going to be MY bitch this week. SYDNEY: Oooh, that's right, I forgot. Can I be your bitch next week, John? HARDIN: Don't be silly, Sydney, next week is Homecoming! (CALLO is bright red, of course, but she's also laughing helplessly. SYDNEY smirks and skips ahead of the group. ASHLEY grins. Fairly quickly they're shunted into the western side of the stadium, amidst crowds of fans dressed in purple and blue. The eastern side of the stadium is less crowded with people, wearing black and gold.) CALLO: Which team is that? I don't recognize it... HARDIN: Uh... Gariland Regional, I think. Ravens. SYDNEY: The Ravens have nice team colors. I approve! ASHLEY: Yeah, although purple and light blue definitely beat my OLD school's colors... bright green and yellow... SYDNEY: Oooogh! What was the team, the Jell-O Molds? (By the time, they've found a nice section of bleachers, right above the band section, and found seats. People stream by, often stopping to say hello to HARDIN or CALLO. HARDIN graciously introduces everyone to ASHLEY, although ASHLEY quickly loses the ability to keep up with the stream of names. SYDNEY just grins at everybody; they all appear to know him, even the freshmen. The energy in the stadium is infectious. The dull roar of the crowd, the brilliant unnatural lighting, the bright colors; all these things combine to buoy ASHLEY's spirits. He laughs easily, is more friendly than usual towards people that he doesn't know, and keeps poking SYDNEY in the side to point things out. The band members are mostly here now, dressed in fairly ugly regimental outfits; the crowd noise is pierced by a steady stream of tuning up and occasional bursts of melody.) ASHLEY: Oooh, this is going to get loud, isn't it? SYDNEY: Oh, probably. They're pretty good, though. (Just then, the band bursts out into the Lea Monde fight song. The effect on the crowd is electric, and ASHLEY can barely sit still. SYDNEY doesn't even try, jittering around in his seat. CALLO's eyes are sparkling, and even HARDIN is rapidly losing his usual dignified mien. As the music climbs to its peak, the Lea Monde Wyverns come bursting out onto the field, and the crowd ROARS. Despite himself, despite everything, ASHLEY finds himself cheering too, and so are his friends. Even SYDNEY is yelling something. Down there on the field, so tiny, ROMEO is just another anonymous helmeted football player, and it's surprisingly easy to set aside their mutual antipathy in the face of the crowd's adulation. The cheerleaders are going mad on the sidelines, including SAMANTHA.) ASHLEY: Wow, she's really something... SYDNEY: Huh? Who? ASHLEY: Samantha! Look... (ASHLEY points, just as SAMANTHA does an effortless backflip onto the shoulders of a male cheerleader, who hoists her easily up over his head. SAMANTHA's pompoms flash out, glittering in the lights, and she beams up at the crowd like every single one of them was her best friend.) CALLO: Oh, she's great... that's why she's the head cheerleader. She actually made the squad her junior year, which is really unusual... ASHLEY: How long have you two been friends? CALLO: Oh, gosh, since we were born? Our parents have been friends forever... she's really a nice girl. HARDIN: ... as long as she's not around Romeo. CALLO: Well... I mean, I can't excuse her for that, but... he just takes her OVER, when they're together. There's just no room for Samantha to be anything but a decoration... but try telling her that. I don't know. HARDIN: Yeah... I'm sorry I brought it up. It's really none of my business anyway. CALLO: Oh... it's okay, John. (CALLO smiles at HARDIN, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder gently. The announcer's voice crackles over the crowd, introducing the starting lineup.) ANNOUNCER: And, at quarterback, Romeo Guildenstern, number ten! (The crowd roars. A tall, muscular, impossibly gleaming figure on the field raises one fist in salute, and all the cheerleaders wave their pompoms at the crowd, who are pumping their fists in the air and screaming adulation. SYDNEY leans over to ASHLEY, his breath warm on ASHLEY's ear.) SYDNEY: (very quietly) Boo. (ASHLEY grins. The grin falters somewhat after a moment, as SYDNEY swiftly and lightly touches the tip of his tongue to ASHLEY's ear before moving away.) CALLO: God, listen to the crowd... HARDIN: I know... but as long as the Wyverns keep winning games, they'll love Romeo like a god... this is the best season we've had in almost ten years. Whatever else you have to say about him, he plays damn good football. SYDNEY: Yeah, I guess his naturally psychotic temperament suits him well when it comes to ripping opponents apart... HARDIN: As much as I hate to disappoint you, Sydney, he's the quarterback. He doesn't do THAT much tackling. If he was really, truly psychotic, he'd play on the front line... SYDNEY: Bah. Shows you how much I pay attention to... what's this game called again? ASHLEY: Heh! HARDIN: Although he does call a LOT of handoffs, which means he gets to be at least a little physical... CALLO: What's the alternative? HARDIN: A passing play, where he throws the ball to a runner. Plus in passing plays sometimes the quarterback gets sacked, and I can see how he wouldn't like that... SYDNEY: Oooh, I hope we get to see that! Is it bloody? (ASHLEY laughs. CALLO giggles. HARDIN grins.) HARDIN: Heh. I'll shut up and stop boring you people with football stuff. (ROMEO jogs out for the coin toss, and Lea Monde wins. Gariland Regional chooses their goal, and the game begins.) SYDNEY: Damn, those Ravens are huge... HARDIN: Yeah, Gariland Regional is a rural school... they get lots of really big farm kids. (The Ravens are, indeed, huge. ROMEO is their size, but many of the other Wyverns are smaller. The game is hard fought through the first quarter, and the Wyverns are obviously good, but the Ravens have the advantage of size. First quarter ends and the Ravens are ahead, 6-0.) HARDIN: I can't believe they missed the place-kick. SYDNEY: Big, dumb, and clumsy. I know their type well! ASHLEY: Heh. (During the next quarter, the Wyverns manage to fight their way to a touchdown and score the extra point, putting the score at 7-6. But right before halftime, the Ravens stampede over the Wyverns and get another touchdown, making the place-kick this time, and putting the score, at halftime, at Wyverns 7, Ravens 13. The Wyverns' band marches onto the field and starts strutting around, forming the complex loops of some pattern.) ASHLEY: Damn, that's some scary football... SYDNEY: Yeah. Man, I should come to these games more often. I don't have the faintest idea what's going on and my heart is pounding anyway. I don't think I've ever liked Romeo better. ASHLEY: ... SYDNEY: ... than I do when he's getting the shit kicked out of him by guys bigger than he is. ASHLEY: Heh! (HARDIN and CALLO are involved in a very earnest conversation about the Wyverns' chances with a couple of other students who have wandered up. The band blusters on in the background, and people stream up and down the stadium stairs while they have a break. The other students wave and wander off.) SYDNEY: Hey, John! HARDIN: Huh? What? SYDNEY: Have they managed to... what was it?... sack Romeo yet? HARDIN: Nope, not yet... SYDNEY: Ooooh. (very quietly) Darn. (One by one, all four of them wander off to use the restrooms, while the others hold their seats. Both bands finish performing, and the teams take the field. ROMEO is still out there, although some of the team members have been replaced. Third quarter is brutal, nasty, and vicious.) HARDIN: (wincing) Oh, shit, Romeo just clotheslined that guy... SYDNEY: Elbow to the FACE! Psycho bastard. (Lea Monde takes its penalty and keeps playing. On one particular play, ROMEO is waiting to pass the ball to the guy running down the field, when suddenly an immense Raven bursts through the line and crashes into ROMEO. ROMEO goes down hard. HARDIN hisses in inadvertent sympathy, as do most of the Wyverns fans.) HARDIN: That's sacking, Sydney. SYDNEY: What, just one guy? I was hoping for at least five or six... maybe twenty or so armed with hammers, that'd be nice too. ASHLEY: Who's the psycho bastard now? SYDNEY: (cheerfully) Oh, Romeo is. I'm just sitting up here thinking about violence, he's down there doing it. (Third quarter ends: Wyverns 14, Ravens 20. The Wyverns' fans are starting to get a little dispirited, although they still scream and cheer desperately. CALLO excuses herself and wanders down to say hi to SAMANTHA. Suddenly, ALL hell breaks loose in the stands, and HARDIN leaps to his feet, screaming with the rest of the crowd. The cheerleaders are bouncing and yelling and flashing their pompoms and going mad.) HARDIN: (screaming) GO! RUN, YOU BASTARD, RUN! (ROMEO faked a handoff but kept the ball, and has managed to break through the Ravens' defensive line, winging up the field. The crowd roars its approval as ROMEO barrels down the field, pursued by several Ravens who just can't reach him in time... ROMEO explodes into the end zone and the Wyverns fans go berserk. Even SYDNEY is cheering and pounding on the railing in front of him, and ASHLEY finds himself on his feet, straining towards the field, yelling at the top of his lungs.) HARDIN: (gleefully) Quarterback sneak! I can't believe he got away with it! Slick bastard... CALLO: (racing up) Did you SEE that? Did you SEE? HARDIN: We SAW! (CALLO throws herself on HARDIN, and they bounce around excitedly, laughing and yelling. After a moment, SYDNEY throws himself on HARDIN too, if only to avoid being left out, and ASHLEY shrugs and makes it a foursome. They're definitely not the only ones in the stands doing this, either. After several minutes, things finally calm down, and the place-kick is made; Wyverns 21, Ravens 20. More tumult.) HARDIN: Now all they have to do is keep the Ravens from scoring again... CALLO: (eyes sparkling) Oh, let's hope they can. (Alas, it is not to be. Despite the best efforts of ROMEO and the Wyverns, the Ravens slowly push the Wyverns back, and back, and back... until finally the Ravens' quarterback makes an amazing winging pass to their wide receiver, who runs it in for a touchdown with less than a minute to go. Despite ROMEO's last, frantic efforts to retrieve the game, it doesn't happen; final score: Wyverns 21, Ravens 27.) HARDIN: (dejected) Aw, shit. CALLO: Are we out of the running for the state championship, then? (HARDIN heaves a sigh, pushing his fingers through his hair.) HARDIN: ... yeah, that's it. We lost the first one, too. We've still got several games to play, but the Wyverns are out of it... ASHLEY: Wow. I actually feel bad about that. SYDNEY: Me too. You know why? ASHLEY: Why? SYDNEY: ... do you know how ANGRY Romeo's going to be on Monday? I fear for my life... ASHLEY: ... ouch. I hadn't thought about it that way. HARDIN: Damn. Yeah. You two better keep your heads down for a while. SYDNEY: Staying in bed all day Monday is starting to look like a good idea... but the test! (The stadium is beginning to empty out, slowly, and the four of them join the herds of not-quite-happy Wyvern fans. After a few minutes, they manage to inch their way back to HARDIN's car and pile in. HARDIN carefully backs out and joins the lines of cars waiting to exit.) SYDNEY: Wow, it's almost ten... CALLO: Yeah... this has really been a fun day! ASHLEY: Even with the studying, and all, yeah, it has been... I haven't gone to a football game in a long time. Thanks for dragging my ass over. HARDIN: Of course, absolutely. Maybe you guys can all come over again next weekend... we can rent movies or something? CALLO: Oooh, that sounds good! ASHLEY: Yeah, I could deal with that, I think. We'll see how this week goes. So are we going to do anything else tonight? CALLO: Oh, I'd love to, but I need to get home... SYDNEY: Awww. C'mon, the night is young, and so are we! CALLO: Unfortunately, my grandparents are coming down tomorrow, and they're not. SYDNEY: Ouch! Family! (CALLO laughs, ruefully.) CALLO: Believe me, I'd much prefer to go do something else, but I really DO have to get home. (Light banter continues as HARDIN heads back to his house, pulling into the garage. It's incredibly dark here; there are no streetlights on HARDIN's property, and only the tiny light above the front door pierces the darkness. All four of them move out to the front of the house.) HARDIN: I think that's it for me, too, although it's definitely been fun... SYDNEY: Awww, you guys are no fun at all. Hmpf. (CALLO waves and heads off to her car, and in just a moment the little red Bug zips off down the driveway. All three boys wave until the taillights are out of sight.) SYDNEY: ... so did you ask her to Homecoming yet, John? (HARDIN flushes pink.) HARDIN: ... god, is it that obvious? SYDNEY: Well, yeah. HARDIN: I asked her... she was really nice about it... SYDNEY: But... HARDIN: ... but she's going to be out of town next weekend, looking at colleges, and the trip's been planned for months. ASHLEY: Ouch. HARDIN: Yeah. (HARDIN laughs, without much real humor.) HARDIN: Oh, well, it's not in the cards, I guess... SYDNEY: I would definitely not say that, John. HARDIN: ... you think? SYDNEY: Yeah, you've still got a chance. Hang in there. HARDIN: Huh... anyway, I'll see you guys on Monday, assuming you show up. SYDNEY: Yeah. There's a test, but there's Romeo... test, but Romeo... yeesh. (HARDIN waves and goes into the house. After a moment, the light over the front door goes off, and the world is plunged into moonlit blackness. After a moment, once their eyes get used to the darkness, ASHLEY and SYDNEY head for the little green convertible and get in. SYDNEY puts down the top and backs out, heading down the drive.) SYDNEY: Hey, before we go, there's something I want to show you... ASHLEY: Sure, I don't have to be home for hours yet. (SYDNEY drives down the long private drive, going very slowly. After a moment, he turns off down an even more hidden drive, still on HARDIN's property.) ASHLEY: Damn... SYDNEY: You'll like this. (After driving for a few more minutes, very very slowly, the convertible emerges onto a small ledge. ASHLEY gazes out of the car, in awe. The convertible is parked on top of a small rocky cliff. The cliff tumbles messily down for about fifty feet, and the river rushes by at the base of the cliff; from up here, ASHLEY can see the tops of the trees, spread out before the cliff like an ocean, stretching in an unbroken wave off into the distance. No city lights at all can be seen, but the moon is full, dyeing the cliff, the dark water, and the trees a pale shimmering blue. The only sound is the sound of the water below, and SYDNEY's faint breathing.) SYDNEY: (very quietly) Isn't it beautiful? ASHLEY: (equally quietly, but fervently) GOD, yes. (Another silence falls. After a moment, the breeze picks up slightly, making the treetops dance in the moonlight; the soft susurrus of dancing leaves fills the world for a moment before the breeze dies back down. ASHLEY sighs quietly, leaning on the dashboard and staring out over the shifting ocean of treetops. After a moment, SYDNEY reaches over quietly and takes ASHLEY's hand; ASHLEY squeezes SYDNEY's hand gently.) ASHLEY: (quietly) Hey. Come over here. (After a bit of shifting and quiet confusion, including SYDNEY bumping into the gearshift a few times, the two boys settle back down into ASHLEY's bucket seat. ASHLEY is leaning sideways against the door, with one leg laying flat across the driver's seat; SYDNEY is sitting mostly in ASHLEY's lap, curled up against his chest. ASHLEY rests his chin on SYDNEY's head and strokes his hair. Then all is silent for several minutes, except for the quiet onrushing of the water and the occasional breeze, which ruffles their hair and sets the leaves to dancing again.) ASHLEY: (very quietly) Beautiful... SYDNEY: (equally quietly) Yes... it really is... all of it... (ASHLEY chuckles, almost silently.) ASHLEY: Why do I get the feeling that was deep? SYDNEY: I'm just a deep person, I guess... ASHLEY: Mmm... now shush and let me enjoy the moment. SYDNEY: Yessir. (And SYDNEY does. ASHLEY eventually closes his eyes, listening to the quiet sounds of the night and SYDNEY's breathing; SYDNEY inches his fingers under ASHLEY's jacket and smooths ASHLEY's shirt against his shoulder, reveling in the touch and the warmth. After a few minutes, ASHLEY turns his head slightly, to kiss the top of SYDNEY's head. SYDNEY responds by touching his lips to the pulse that flutters just under ASHLEY's jaw. ASHLEY shivers lightly and tilts his head, exposing the length of his neck to SYDNEY; SYDNEY covers ASHLEY's throat with slow kisses, while ASHLEY strokes his hair and murmurs little incoherent sounds.) ASHLEY: Mmmmmm... SYDNEY: (in answer) Mmm. (SYDNEY finally stops, his breath just slightly roughened, and curls back up against ASHLEY's chest. ASHLEY tightens his arms around SYDNEY. A few more silent moments pass.) SYDNEY: I can hear your heart beating... (ASHLEY smiles lazily.) ASHLEY: Can you? SYDNEY: Mm-hmm... (SYDNEY turns his head slightly, kissing ASHLEY's chest through his shirt. ASHLEY closes his eyes and smiles again, twining his fingers in SYDNEY's hair and gently undoing SYDNEY's ponytail. Idly, he spreads SYDNEY's hair out over his shoulders, opening his eyes again to watch the moonlight play in the pale strands. SYDNEY shivers, then purrs.) SYDNEY: ... whatever you do, don't stop doing that... ASHLEY: Hmm? SYDNEY: I love it when you play with my hair... ASHLEY: ... I love your hair... SYDNEY: ... I love you... (Silence. Outwardly, ASHLEY doesn't react at all, but SYDNEY, with his ear pressed to ASHLEY's chest, hears ASHLEY's heart thump violently, once, before returning to its regular rhythm. After a silent moment:) ASHLEY: I... don't know what to say, Sydney. SYDNEY: Don't say anything. Please. You don't have to. Just let me enjoy my little delusions for a while? ASHLEY: ... all right. (And they both fall silent, each wrapped in his own thoughts. SYDNEY blinks a couple of times, suddenly afraid that he might cry and not entirely sure why; ASHLEY closes his eyes, his body suddenly tingling with nerves. A minute later ASHLEY tightens his arms about SYDNEY again, burying his face in SYDNEY's unbound hair. And SYDNEY does cry, just a little, a single tear squeezing out from one eye, falling on ASHLEY's shirt and immediately being absorbed into the fabric. If ASHLEY notices, he doesn't say anything.) SYDNEY: ... it can't last. It's too wonderful to last... nothing this perfect can ever last long enough... ASHLEY: (roughly) Shh. Don't... don't say that. SYDNEY: But it won't... it can't... and what am I going to do without you? ASHLEY: Sydney, please don't... SYDNEY: ... don't leave me. Please don't. ASHLEY: I won't. I'm right here... SYDNEY: Thank you... ASHLEY: Shh. (SYDNEY is trembling, lightly. After a moment, he splays his good hand out on ASHLEY's chest and stares at it, as if to embed this moment, this vision, in his mind for ever. A moment passes, and ASHLEY brings his hand up, taking SYDNEY's hand in his own and squeezing it gently.) ASHLEY: ... I... I love you too... I think... SYDNEY: (quietly, his voice shaking) That's... that's more than good enough... (ASHLEY is silent, his face still pressed into SYDNEY's hair. Neither one of them moves or says anything for several minutes, although another tear tracks down SYDNEY's face and ASHLEY has to swallow the lump in his throat. The breeze picks up, gently brushing ASHLEY's bangs against SYDNEY's face. Finally, reluctantly, SYDNEY lifts his head, and ASHLEY does as well. They stare at each other for a moment, then ASHLEY brings his hand up and strokes his thumb along SYDNEY's cheek, erasing the tear track. SYDNEY turns his head, pressing a kiss into the palm of ASHLEY's hand.) ASHLEY: (roughly) Aw, god... (ASHLEY gently lifts SYDNEY's face to his. In a very real sense, this is the kiss they've both been waiting for, ever since they met; incredibly gentle, the kiss lasts for several minutes, as they try to memorize the taste of each other. When the kiss finally breaks, there's nothing left to say. Nothing at all.) (SCENE: The small cliff, about an hour later. The convertible is still here; ASHLEY and SYDNEY haven't really moved very much. ASHLEY's shirt has come untucked, and is pushed up slightly, revealing just an inch or two of his belly; SYDNEY has shifted slightly, and is running his fingertips over a long pale bruise on the side of ASHLEY's belly, near his ribcage.) SYDNEY: Damn, I'm sorry. ASHLEY: Don't be. I'm not sorry I caught you. SYDNEY: (fervently) Me neither. Definitely not. Catch me any time. (ASHLEY smiles, then reaches out and brushes his fingers lazily against SYDNEY's cheek. SYDNEY purrs faintly, then rubs up against ASHLEY's fingers like a cat. ASHLEY responds by running his fingers through SYDNEY's hair, draping one soft blond lock over SYDNEY's shoulder.) ASHLEY: ... I don't want to even think about what time it is, do I? SYDNEY: There you go with that 'time' thing again. Why can't we just spend the rest of our lives here? ASHLEY: ... because your mother only lent you the car for the day? SYDNEY: Damn. Why are you always right? You suck. (SYDNEY throws himself forward against ASHLEY's chest again. ASHLEY catches him easily, wrapping his arms firmly around SYDNEY.) ASHLEY: Trust me, I don't want to leave here any more than you do... SYDNEY: ... I suppose you could come spend the night at my house... if you wanted... my parents wouldn't mind... (ASHLEY is quiet for a moment, pondering this.) ASHLEY: (slowly) That would be nice... but my mother's probably already asleep, so waking her up to tell her would be kind of bad... so I'd better not. SYDNEY: (disingenuous) It's easier to get forgiveness than permission, you know. ASHLEY: And then I'll be grounded for a month... SYDNEY: Oh ack. No. If I have to live without you for a month, I'll just die. (SYDNEY nuzzles ASHLEY's throat. ASHLEY smiles.) SYDNEY: ... what if I beg and plead? ASHLEY: Hm... that might make me reconsider... SYDNEY: (lightly) ... or promise you outrageous sexual favors? (Not quite lightly enough, apparently. ASHLEY flushes, running his fingers through his hair nervously.) SYDNEY: (quickly) Kidding, kidding. Unless you don't want me to be... ASHLEY: Let's... uh... let's leave that subject alone for right now, okay? SYDNEY: (contrite) Okay. I'm sorry. I'll stop teasing you... I promised I wouldn't push you into anything. (ASHLEY quietly smooths SYDNEY's hair.) ASHLEY: It's okay. And you can beg and plead if you want... it MIGHT work... SYDNEY: Okay... (SYDNEY lifts his head and flashes ASHLEY huge puppy-dog eyes. ASHLEY can't help but laugh a little.) SYDNEY: Please? (SYDNEY quickly leans forward and kisses ASHLEY on the tip of his nose.) SYDNEY: Please? (SYDNEY kisses ASHLEY again, this time lightly on the lips.) SYDNEY: Please? (SYDNEY kisses ASHLEY on the chin.) SYDNEY: (more quietly) Please? (SYDNEY kisses ASHLEY's throat, right under his jaw. ASHLEY closes his eyes.) SYDNEY: (whispering now) Please... (SYDNEY pushes aside ASHLEY's collar and kisses his collarbone. ASHLEY exhales, a bit shakily.) SYDNEY: (still whispering) Please... (SYDNEY pops open the top button of ASHLEY's shirt, kissing the bit of chest exposed. A tiny sound escapes ASHLEY, a sound which might be a whimper.) SYDNEY: (almost inaudible now) Please... (The next button pops open, and SYDNEY slides his lips down further onto ASHLEY's chest.) ASHLEY: (voice shaking slightly) ... god... (SYDNEY mouths the word 'please' against ASHLEY's chest, his finger sliding to the next button, but just resting there. ASHLEY moans.) ASHLEY: (almost inaudible) ... yes... I, I will... (SYDNEY sits up, not meeting ASHLEY's gaze, carefully redoing the buttons on ASHLEY's shirt. Then, and only then, he looks up at ASHLEY, eyes shining.) SYDNEY: (quietly) I knew you'd see it my way. ASHLEY: (voice shaking) You are, without a doubt, the most evil person I have ever met... SYDNEY: Thank you, kind sir. You can call your mother from my house and tell her you're spending the night... ASHLEY: Yes... I'll ... I'll do that. (SYDNEY leans forward and kisses ASHLEY once more, lingeringly and with promise; then he shifts out of ASHLEY's lap and back into the driver's seat. ASHLEY sits up, making an abortive effort to tuck his shirt back into his jeans. After a few more moments of rearrangement, SYDNEY starts the car, and carefully turns it around, heading down the same drive. ASHLEY gazes back over his shoulder until the cliffside is out of sight, then settles back down into his seat, a small faraway expression on his face. SYDNEY glances over at ASHLEY briefly before returning his eyes to the road, that small cat-faced smile gracing his features again.) (SCENE: Very early Monday morning, outside ASHLEY's apartment. A chilly grey fog blankets everything, blurring the outlines of the building. The door to the apartment opens and ASHLEY steps out, dressed for school: heavy off-white cable-knit sweater, tan cargo pants, and his dark brown engineer's boots. He hefts his backpack over his shoulder and turns around, about to set off for school, when a soft voice floats out of the fog and stops him.) SYDNEY: Morning, beautiful. (ASHLEY's head whips around. SYDNEY is, indeed, parked here, shrouded in the fog. SYDNEY is leaning on the handlebars of his motorbike, smiling; his legs jut out to either side, supporting the bike. After a moment, ASHLEY smiles and crosses to meet SYDNEY, who's wearing all black again: a tight black turtleneck sweater and baggy black pants, with his pointy-toed shoes. A silver ankh hangs around SYDNEY's neck on a black leather thong.) ASHLEY: Good morning yourself... how long have you been out here? SYDNEY: Oh, hours and hours. But I figured you could use a ride to school on this terrible grey morning, and of course, I live to serve, m'lud. ASHLEY: Well then, in that case, I graciously allow you the pleasure of serving me. SYDNEY: Oooh? ASHLEY: ... er, with a ride to school. SYDNEY: Awwww, you're no fun at all. Hop on. (ASHLEY climbs onto the bike behind SYDNEY, wrapping his arms firmly around SYDNEY's waist.) SYDNEY: ... there is the slight matter of your fare, sir. ASHLEY: (lightly) Oh, gracious me, I haven't a penny. Whatever shall I do? SYDNEY: I'm sure you'll think of something... (ASHLEY responds by gently lifting SYDNEY's ponytail and kissing the back of SYDNEY's neck, right above the turtleneck. SYDNEY shivers.) SYDNEY: ... that'll do nicely... ah, I love the fog. Fosters such an illusion of privacy... ASHLEY: Mmmm. Drive on, Jeeves. And do pull through the McDonald's on the way, I'll buy you a bit of breakfast... SYDNEY: And here you said you didn't have a penny! I am shocked and appalled! ASHLEY: Well, I don't have a penny, but I do have a fiver. SYDNEY: (mollified) Oh, well then. (SYDNEY starts up the bike and drives off into the fog, ASHLEY's arms tightly wrapped around his waist.) (SCENE: Mr. BARDORBA's classroom, about half an hour later, ten minutes
before the bell. CALLO is here, as always, wearing a dark blue cardigan,
a white silk blouse, and a long slim black skirt, paging through her notes
in last-minute review for the test. DUANE and GRISSOM are also here, but
for once they're not watching CALLO; they're also reviewing their notes.
TIEGER and NEESA are here, too, in their usual spots; TIEGER is slumped
against the back wall snoring, and NEESA, wearing a brilliant purple skin-tight
minidress that appears to be made out of rubber, is applying a fourth coat
of lipstick, gazing at herself in her peeling silver compact.)
SYDNEY: Good morning, Callo! Are we ready for this? CALLO: As ready as I'll ever be, I fear... and good morning to the both of you! ASHLEY: Morning, Callo. And what do you have to fear? You'll do brilliantly. It's Sydney who should be afraid. SYDNEY: Bah. Bah, I say. ASHLEY: Yes, you do. You do say bah. (HARDIN appears in the doorway, wearing a heavy mottled-green wool sweater over jeans. He joins the group, pushing his hand through his slicked-back hair in a characteristic gesture, but his grin is strained.) HARDIN: Morning, Sydney, Ash, Callo... ASHLEY: Hey, John. Ready for this? HARDIN: I certainly hope so, or I bought you all pizza for nothing... SYDNEY: Hah! HARDIN: (suddenly serious) Hey, did you guys hear about Romeo? (All three of them blink at HARDIN.) HARDIN: I take it that means 'no'... CALLO: No, I haven't heard anything. What happened? SYDNEY: Yeah, don't keep us in suspense... HARDIN: Oh, man. He tore up the locker room after the game... just went berserk, apparently... did thousands of dollars' worth of damage... CALLO: (aghast) Oh my! ASHLEY: Holy shit. HARDIN: No kidding. Nobody was hurt, but the home team's locker room is completely destroyed... CALLO: That's awful! Did he get suspended? (HARDIN snorts.) HARDIN: (disgustedly) Of course not. Romeo's father agreed to pay for the repairs, and the principal decided to let him off, saying that he 'understood why Romeo was upset all too well', and that Romeo should be allowed to 'finish out the season'... CALLO: (shocked) That's just horrible! He shouldn't be allowed to get away with that! HARDIN: I know. I agree. It's stupid, and it's criminal... SYDNEY: ... but it's Romeo, the principal's fair-haired boy. ASHLEY: Man, that's just... fucked. HARDIN: Tell me about it. Anyway, you guys might want to go hunker down in your seats before Romeo gets here... he's out for blood today. SYDNEY: Shit. Good idea. Excuse us, Callo, John... and, uh, good luck on the test... HARDIN: (distracted) Yeah. You too. (HARDIN slides into his seat. SYDNEY and ASHLEY quickly head to their own seats in the back of the room, just as ROSENCRANTZ enters the classroom in a swirl of black leather trenchcoat. Under the trenchcoat he's wearing the bright red pleather shirt, and matching red pleather jeans over his black snakeskin boots. A red bandanna is knotted jauntily around the upper arm of the trenchcoat, to replace the usual bracelets; his hair is gelled down into a mockery of ASHLEY's bangs again. ROSENCRANTZ's eyes glitter with an unholy fervor, a tight little smirk playing about his mouth. As soon as he catches sight of SYDNEY and ASHLEY, his upper lip lifts in a sneer, exposing one fang-like canine. ROSENCRANTZ slithers over to ASHLEY in a heartbeat and slams his hand down flat on ASHLEY's desk, startling SYDNEY and ASHLEY, who apparently hadn't noticed him come in.) SYDNEY: (recovering) What do you want, Rosey? ROSENCRANTZ: (singsong) Ohhh, nothing... I just wanted to know, did you enjoy fucking Syddie this weekend, Ash? (ASHLEY snorts.) ASHLEY: Despite what your twisted little mind likes to believe, Rosey, I'm not fucking Sydney. ROSENCRANTZ: (singsong) Maybe you should tryyyy it, Ash... he's quite a lay, believe me! (ROSENCRANTZ rolls his eyes at ASHLEY, grinning widely and sliding his splayed fingers slowly down over his own crotch in an utterly obscene gesture.) ROSENCRANTZ: (singsong) Tight little Sydney feels so GOOD around my dick, Ash... and he screams and cries and begs for more so pretty... you should try it! SYDNEY: (exasperated and embarrassed) Goddammit, Rosey, why don't you just fuck off and die? ASHLEY: Yeah. It's not like I believe a word you say anyway. (But ASHLEY does believe, if only just for a second; his eyes and the faint tremor in his voice give him away beautifully. ROSENCRANTZ's feral grin widens, and something seems to die in SYDNEY's eyes, just a little.) ROSENCRANTZ: (singsong, with a vicious leer) You just keep telling yourself that, Ashy... maybe you'll even believe it some day... ASHLEY: (angry, mostly at himself) Fuck off, Rosey! Just... fuck off! ROSENCRANTZ: (suddenly vicious) You just remember this, asshole, I fucked your little boyfriend a thousand times before you ever met him, and I'll fuck him another thousand after you're nothing but a memory... (suddenly singsong again) See you later, Syddie! (And ROSENCRANTZ swoops down, casually, and forces his tongue into SYDNEY's mouth before anyone can react. SYDNEY makes an incoherent sound of disgust and strikes out wildly at ROSENCRANTZ, shoving him away; ROSENCRANTZ catches himself with that preternatural grace and grins widely, licking his lips lasciviously before slithering away to his seat. SYDNEY scrubs the back of his hand over his lips in a frenzy of disgust.) SYDNEY: God. GOD. ASHLEY: Shit, that asshole... are you okay, Sydney? SYDNEY: (low, harsh voice) No, I feel dirty and raped and USED, Ash. That evil, evil son of a bitch... ASHLEY: Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry... SYDNEY: (calming slightly) Not your fault. It's not your fault. I'm... I'm okay. (But ROSENCRANTZ is still leering at them from his seat, and both SYDNEY and ASHLEY fall into an uneasy silence, carefully not looking at each other. It's clear that they're wondering just how much ROSENCRANTZ does, indeed, know. Shortly MR. BARDORBA enters the classroom, carrying a pile of test papers; following him is SAMANTHA -- alone. Something in SAMANTHA's eyes is hard and brittle and unnaturally bright, even though she looks the same as always, in her light blue sweater and matching skirt. She takes her seat silently. A few moments later, just as the tardy bell rings, ROMEO explodes into the classroom and throws himself in his seat. Never pleasant at the best of times, today ROMEO is cloaked in a silent black aura of menace, with frighteningly dead eyes; he has deep purple bags under his eyes, his hair is uncombed, and he's wearing a battered old flannel shirt loose over a t-shirt and jeans, obviously not caring in the slightest what he looks like.) SYDNEY: (very, very quietly) Oh, fuck, look at that. This is going to be a very bad day indeed, Ash... ASHLEY: (equally quietly) Yeah. Yeah, it already has been. MR. BARDORBA: Good morning, class. If you'll all put your books and notes away under your seats, I'll hand out the test papers... (General groaning and rustling, as the students pack everything away and tuck it under their desks. MR. BARDORBA hands the tests out, and soon everyone is silent, either working on their tests or pretending to. It's pretty obvious that SYDNEY is having an immense amount of trouble concentrating, and ASHLEY is doing only a little better; ROMEO just stares blankly at his test, sneering, and doesn't touch his pencil to it once. SAMANTHA is also having trouble concentrating, and she keeps having to stop herself from glancing back at ROMEO, who is making quiet derisive noises behind her. ROSENCRANTZ zips through the multiple choice section at immense speeds, quite obviously just circling answers at random. HARDIN moves through the test at a quiet, deliberate pace, tapping his pencil idly against his upper lip whenever he has to think about a question. CALLO moves through the first section quickly, answering every question she knows right away and skipping the others, then going back to think about the ones she skipped. GRISSOM has the tip of his tongue poked out of his mouth in sheer concentration, painstakingly and slowly working his way down the top sheet; DUANE is chewing on his pencil, looking lost and terrified. NEESA makes a show of licking the tip of her pencil before she answers every question; TIEGER is still asleep.) (SCENE: A smallish battered office, cluttered with random sports gear and a large number of trophies. The tardy bell for second period has just rung. COACH BATISTUM is here, standing over his desk; he's obviously just about to leave, clipboard in hand.) ROMEO: (from the doorway, cheerfully) Knock knock, Coach. (COACH BATISTUM looks up and grins. ROMEO looks better than he did; his flannel shirt is buttoned and tucked in, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as usual, and he's brushed his hair. Something a little unhealthy still burns in his eyes, but the coach doesn't seem to notice.) COACH BATISTUM: Hey, Rome, my man! What can I do for you? ROMEO: I just need to take a look at the master playbook, Coach. I thought of something yesterday, but I can't pin it down. Thought looking at the playbook might help. COACH BATISTUM: Well, of course, Rome, anything you need... but I need to head out. Second period PE is waiting on me. ROMEO: (still cheerful) Oh, that's no problem, Coach. I can just lock up when I leave... COACH BATISTUM: Heh, that's fine, Rome. You take care of yourself, okay? (COACH BATISTUM pats ROMEO paternally on the shoulder and heads off into the boys' locker room. As the door opens, we can hear the usual yelling and tumult from a class full of boys getting changed for PE; then the dressing room door slams shut, muting the noise. The instant that the door slams shut, the thin mask of cheerfulness evaporates from ROMEO's face, and the aura of menace explodes into being around him again. ROMEO quickly shuts and locks the office door, then throws himself into the coach's desk chair, opening and slamming drawers as fast as he can, rifling their contents.) ROMEO: Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It's got to be in here somewhere... (Finally, with a feral grin of pleasure, ROMEO pulls out a large spiral-bound notebook and starts paging through it, almost ripping the pages in his controlled fury. The notebook is filled with lines of COACH BATISTUM's neat handwriting: name after name, followed by a string of seemingly meaningless numbers, all divided into class periods and sports teams. ROMEO finds the 'second period' section and runs his fingers down the column of names, finally stopping at one entry, at the very end of the section, in a different color of pen. ROMEO grabs a pencil and a bit of scrap paper and jots the entry down, muttering to himself.) ROMEO: 'Riot, Ashley, Second Period - 416 - 36, 47, 15'. Gonna GET you, asshole. Gonna get you GOOD... (ROMEO puts away the spiral-bound notebook where he found it, and tucks the scrap of paper with the numbers on it into his breast pocket. The glitter in his eyes is manic and unhealthy, and he can't seem to stop grinning. He pulls out the master playbook and carefully places it on one corner of the desk, without looking through it at all; then he leaves the office, not neglecting to lock the door behind himself. Then he bangs into the now silent and deserted boys' locker room, stalking through the rows of lockers until he pulls up in front of one, marked 416. The feral grin spreads, and ROMEO runs his tongue over his teeth as he begins to work the combination lock on the locker.) ROMEO: (like a mantra) Fucker. Fucker. Fucker. ASSHOLE. You don't pull shit like that on ME, fucker. Fucker. Fucker. (Finally ROMEO yanks the locker open, revealing ASHLEY's school clothes and backpack. And suddenly, every bit of that controlled manic fury leaches away; ROMEO begins to pick through ASHLEY's belongings with extreme delicacy, disturbing as little as possible.) (SCENE: A Lunch. The fog has mostly burned away by now, leaving a beautiful crisp fall day behind; CALLO and ASHLEY are sitting out in the courtyard again, talking about nothing and finishing their lunches.) ASHLEY: No, he hasn't done anything yet; fortunately I only have the one class with him. CALLO: Ah, that's lucky... I think Sydney's in his math class, though. I hope Sydney will be all right. ASHLEY: (fervently) So do I. I think Romeo could break Sydney in half just by thinking about it... CALLO: If Sydney can just make it through today, I'm sure Romeo will calm down a bit. (Suddenly, SYDNEY appears at the doorway to the courtyard. Spotting ASHLEY and CALLO, he quickly picks his way over to them, thumping down on the bench next to ASHLEY.) ASHLEY: Hey, Sydney. CALLO: Sydney! SYDNEY: Callo, don't EVEN start. Romeo's in my math class, so skipping it right now is probably the smartest thing I could do, okay? CALLO: I'm not going to start. Don't expect to ever hear me say this again, but I think skipping that class might have been the right thing to do... SYDNEY: Gasp! Oh, Ash, we've corrupted this poor innocent girl! Oh, the humanity! ASHLEY: 'We'? What's this 'we' shit? CALLO: Did you see him in history this morning? He looked... well, you saw. He didn't even TOUCH his test, either. God, poor Samantha. But I think that staying away from Romeo is a good idea... SYDNEY: I wholeheartedly agree. Hey, do you mind if I steal Ash from you for a sec? I need to talk to him about something... CALLO: ... why are you asking me? Ask Ash, silly. I'm not his keeper. ASHLEY: Heh. 'Scuse us a sec, Callo. (SYDNEY leads ASHLEY off. CALLO stares after them, with that particular bemused expression on her face again. The two boys head off to the auditorium, which abuts the courtyard; it's completely deserted right now, and their footsteps echo cavernously in the dark. Shortly SYDNEY steers ASHLEY into the dimly lit boys' dressing room, and locks the door behind them.) ASHLEY: What's up? (SYDNEY doesn't answer, just throws his arms around ASHLEY's waist and buries his face in ASHLEY's chest. ASHLEY doesn't say anything else; he just wraps his arms around SYDNEY in return and holds him for a moment.) SYDNEY: (venomously) GOD, that asshole. I can't believe Rosey did that, and I KNOW what a bastard he is... I spent most of second period off spitting into the sink, and I still feel germy... ASHLEY: (quietly) I'm really sorry, Sydney. SYDNEY: It's not your fault. Rosey's just... oh god. I'd feel dirty even if he hadn't kissed me... that shit he says... I didn't sleep with Rosey, Ash, I never did. I swear. ASHLEY: I know, Sydney. You told me so. SYDNEY: (helplessly) I know. But... god, I thought you believed him for just a second this morning, and I swear my heart stopped beating... (SYDNEY pushes his face harder against ASHLEY's chest, taking deep hitching breaths that rack his entire body.) ASHLEY: Shh... (ASHLEY strokes SYDNEY's hair quietly, and SYDNEY eventually calms down.) SYDNEY: (muffled) I keep wondering if he knows something, but I really don't think he does... I think he's just pushing to see what falls down... ASHLEY: I know. I think you're right. I hope you're right. (Both boys fall silent, holding each other tightly, each sunk deep into his own thoughts. SYDNEY clings to ASHLEY like he's afraid ASHLEY will vanish at any second; ASHLEY holds SYDNEY a little more tentatively, his thoughts miles away.) (SCENE: In ASHLEY's bedroom, after school. It's about four pm. SYDNEY, barefoot, is perched on ASHLEY's bed, crosslegged, with a school-issue paperback novel in his hand; ASHLEY is sitting at his desk doing his math homework. The small stereo perched on ASHLEY's dresser is playing, but neither of them is really paying attention to the music. Finally, with a snort of disgust, SYDNEY slaps his book shut and throws it against the opposite wall; the book bounces off the wall and into the trash can with a loud CLONK.) SYDNEY: Two points! FUCK Beowulf. Really. I can't concentrate on some stupid monster story today... come over here and kiss me or something instead, while I still taste of toothpaste. ASHLEY: Heh. Give me a minute to finish up this last question, slacker. SYDNEY: Bah. Fine. Value your math homework more than the panting man sprawled on your bed, see if I care. (SYDNEY sprawls out on the bed and pants, hyperdramatically. ASHLEY grins.) ASHLEY: Patience! Anticipation is half the fun... SYDNEY: Fuck anticipation! Kiss me now or I'll scream! ASHLEY: Demanding little brat, aren't you? (ASHLEY puts his pencil down and shoves his chair back, throwing himself onto the bed on top of SYDNEY, who squeals happily. After a few moments:) ASHLEY: Wow, you do taste of toothpaste... SYDNEY: I really ought to, considering how much I used. Now kiss me again, or I'll scream. ASHLEY: ... that line is going to get really old... SYDNEY: Hey, as long as it wor... mmmmm. ASHLEY: (in answer) Mmm. (SCENE: About half an hour later. SYDNEY is sprawled out on his belly now, hair loose, again reading Beowulf and looking much happier about it; ASHLEY finally gets to complete that last math problem. He opens his backpack and puts away his math textbook; we see his brow crease slightly, and he continues to poke through his backpack. After a moment, thoroughly puzzled, he pulls out a small folded piece of paper and flips it open. The first SYDNEY knows about it is this:) ASHLEY: (anguished shriek) FUCK! FUCK! (Startled, SYDNEY spins around on the bed. Furious, raging, ASHLEY drives his fist THROUGH the plaster wall of his bedroom, leaving a huge gaping hole. Curls of plaster dust fill the air as ASHLEY yanks his hand back, sucking on his bleeding knuckles.) SYDNEY: What? Fuck, what? Ash? For god's sake, talk to me! (Incoherent with rage, ASHLEY tosses the sheet of paper in SYDNEY's general direction; the paper makes a lazy loop in midair and lands on the floor. SYDNEY scrambles off the bed and kneels to claim the paper, flicking it open. There are only a few words written on it, in an angry, slashing handwriting: FAGGOT: GOT YOUR DIARY. WANT IT BACK? FOOTBALL STADIUM. MIDNIGHT. WEDNESDAY. COME ALONE. ROMEO.) SYDNEY: Oh, FUCK! (SYDNEY's eyes flash up to ASHLEY's, full of sympathy and outrage. ASHLEY is bright red and shaking with anger; but even as SYDNEY watches, all the blood drains from ASHLEY's face, until ASHLEY is sickly white. He rakes his bleeding hand through his hair, oblivious, leaving streaks of blood and plaster dust in his bangs.) SYDNEY: (terrified) Ash? What...? ASHLEY: ... oh god... oh Sydney, we're so fucked... SYDNEY: What? ASHLEY: Sydney, it's... it's my daily journal he's got, right? I write in it every day... about EVERYTHING that happens to me... SYDNEY: Yeah? Why is... (And SYDNEY's face goes equally white as the implications of that statement finally hit home.) SYDNEY: (very, very quietly) ... everything? (ASHLEY nods, mutely. SYDNEY stares at ASHLEY, milk-white, eyes huge.) SYDNEY: ... maybe he won't read it... ASHLEY: He will. Oh, FUCK, Sydney, I am so sorry... SYDNEY: ... it was bound to happen to me sooner or later... ASHLEY: Yeah, but it's my fault. It's ALL my fault. I wouldn't be surprised if you hated me for it. Oh god. SYDNEY: (vehemently) Shut up. I don't hate you. (SYDNEY throws himself forward on his knees and wraps his arms around ASHLEY's legs. ASHLEY doesn't touch SYDNEY, just sits there with one hand over his face, numb with shock. Eventually:) ASHLEY: ... I have to get it back, Sydney. Even if he's already read it, even if he tells EVERYONE, I can't let that ape keep my journal. SYDNEY: Ash, you can't! If you go to the stadium, he'll hurt you... hell, he'll probably kill you! He's fucking PSYCHO! ASHLEY: I know! I know! But that journal is MINE, and he CAN'T HAVE IT! I have to get it back! SYDNEY: ... then I'll help you. We've got two days to plan, we can think of something that'll MAKE him give it back... ASHLEY: ... Sydney... SYDNEY: This is MY problem too, Ash. Even if it wasn't, I sure as hell wouldn't let you do this alone. ASHLEY: (choked) ... oh, god, Sydney... SYDNEY: We're going to need help, though. ASHLEY: ... SYDNEY: Yeah. I know. That'll be excruciating. ASHLEY: ... will you excuse me for a moment? SYDNEY: ... sure. (SYDNEY lets go of ASHLEY's legs, sitting back on his heels. ASHLEY stands up and stalks unsteadily into the kitchen, sliding the school directory out from under the phone and paging through it with shaking fingers. After a moment, he picks up the phone and dials a number. The phone rings twice, before a female voice answers.) ASHLEY: (falsely cheerful) Hello, may I please speak to Romeo? (ASHLEY waits. Two points of high color burn in his cheeks, and his eyes are flat and angry. After a moment, the phone on the other end is picked up, and a familiar male voice says something questioning.) ASHLEY: (venomous) FUCKER. I'll be there. (And ASHLEY slams the phone down, hard, before ROMEO can say anything. SYDNEY, who followed ASHLEY out into the main room, swallows nervously, then wraps his arms around ASHLEY's waist. ASHLEY turns around and grabs onto SYDNEY, holding onto him for dear life, and finally bursts into furious tears.) |
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===== Chapter Four - The Hail Mary Play |