Inside-Out (13/20)

[ibonekoen]

Here be another chapter.  I don't own these chaps (unfortunately).

I’m actually on time the next day. In fact I’m a bit early, mainly because I want to see Casey. Unfortunately, when I track him down, he’s cornered against some lockers by about three guys, any one of whom is twice his size.

So I see red. The first guy’s head hits one of the lockers with a satisfying ‘clang!’

Oh. Look who it is. More of the football goons. What a surprise.

“Didn’t you guys learn the first time?” I ask the two that don’t have head injuries. Yet. They take the hint and leave.

“You okay?” I ask Casey quietly as I glare at the nosy onlookers. Fuck, like they’ve never seen a fight before. That I’ve been in. It’s amazing I haven’t been thrown out of school, but I think they’d have to suspend the football players too, and they don’t want to do that. The system works.

Casey nods. “Yeah, I’m fine.” he says just as quietly. “Thanks Zeke.”

He looks up at me and smiles softly.

“Jesus, people, take a fucking picture.” I hear Stokely say as she pushes her way through the crowd. “God, like you’ve never seen Zeke go all macho before.”

“Very impressive, by the way.” she says to me as she walks by, headed to her locker.

“Enh.” I respond, playing it cool. Inside though, I’m dancing a fucking jig. Did you see the way he smiled at me?! Holy shit that was awesome!

Casey continues to smile at me and then he turns to his locker, opens it and starts pulling out books.

“Oh my god, it’s the apocalypse.” Delilah says as she comes up behind me. “Zeke Tyler is actually on time.”

She sneers at Casey. “Looks like you’re rubbing off on him in more ways than one, Casey.”

Casey continues to fiddle with the stuff in his locker. I can just barely see a frown starting to play across his face.

“Somebody’s jea-lous.” I say in a sing song voice. “Good morning Delilah. Oh, you’ll be happy to know we’ve determined that your ass is, in fact, hairier than mine.”

Casey snickers and Delilah glares at me.

“Jealous? Of you?” She snorts. “Hardly.”

“Yeah, judging by the pictures he showed me, you can braid the stuff growing on your butt.” I persist, enjoying myself far too much. “I mean, I know some guys like that, but shit. I mean, I’ve tried to tell him that all girls don’t naturally look like goats, but he doesn’t believe me.”

Casey starts to laugh as Delilah just turns red.

“Get a life, Zeke.” she hisses before tossing her head and stomping off in a huff.

“Nice job.” Casey says, grinning.

“Oh come on Delilah, you know I’m just kidding!” I call after her loudly. “Every guy in school’s seen your ass! They all know it’s not true!”

Appreciative groans echo through the hallway. I elbow Casey conspiratorially, then start laughing. There’s nothing more fun than a low blow when someone really deserves it.

Casey laughs, shaking his head, as he closes his locker. “How do you come up with stuff so fast?” he asks. “It takes me hours to come up with a good comeback and then it’s usually too late.”

“I don’t know. I’m just vindictive.” I say with a shrug. “And it’s a rep thing. Comments about girls having hairy asses are totally beneath you, Case.”

I look back at the spot I last saw Delilah before she disappeared.

“Think I made her cry?” I ask hopefully.

Casey grins. “It’s possible.” he says. “That would make your day, wouldn’t it?”

Suddenly Stokely’s at our side, smirking. “So, guys, how’s it going?”

Casey slowly looks at her and then looks back at me, grinning. “It’s good, Stokes.”

“Uh huh.” Stokely says, grinning.

“It’s not even nine, and I’ve already been in two fights.” I say with a shrug. “I’m having a good day. Hey Stokely.”

“Soooooo.” Stokely says, looking from me to Casey and back expectantly.

Casey laughs. “So what, Stokes?”

“You guys kinda disappeared last night.” Stokely says, lowering her voice and leaning close to us.

“The band was making my ears bleed.” I respond. “I’ve heard farts carry a better tune than those guys.”

Stokely laughs. “C’mon, they’re not THAT bad, Zeke.” she says. “Does this mean Stan and I shouldn’t look for you guys again tonight?”

“Actually we’ve already got plans.” Casey says.

“Yeah?” Stokely says, looking intrigued.

“And on that note, we should go to class.” I announce. “I still need to go to my locker. Whoa. That felt weird to say.”

Stokely groans. “C’mon, guys, you aren’t even going to give me a little hint?”

Casey winks conspiratorially at me, then leans close to Stokely and whispers, “Let’s just say I won’t be walking properly tomorrow and leave it at that.”

Stokely’s mouth drops open and Casey walks off, whistling a familiar tune.

“Complete me, mistreat me.” he sings softly.

I’m honestly a bit stunned myself, and forget to move for a moment. Then I realize what he’s singing.

“Oh you. . .you fucking tease.” I mutter, shaking my head before hurrying after him.

“Who, me?” he says, glancing over his shoulder. He chuckles, then stops, looking around. “Dude, where is your locker? I didn’t even know you had one.”

“It’s just down the hall.” I say, smirking at him. “And yeah. You. Damn it, I don’t need a boner during first period, thanks. Mercy, okay?”

“Hmm, good point.” he says, nodding. “Okay, I’ll behave.”

He grins, giggling. “Did you see the look on Stokely’s face though? Priceless. I think I shocked her.”

“You shocked me.” I admit with a grin. “That’s why I’ve got a boner starting.”

There’s something perversely thrilling about talking about this in school. Hey! A reason to come to school!

I stop at my locker and start fiddling with the lock combination.

“I think I shocked myself.” he says, laughing. “I can’t believe I actually said it.”

He clears his throat as he rubs the back of his neck. “So. . .um. . .I was thinking. . .we could, uh, take off after lunch.”

“If you want to.” he adds hastily. “I mean, ya know. . .”

“Are you actually suggesting we skip school?” I ask. “Case, you don’t have to. Really. Don’t try to be me. You don’t want to be.”

He shrugs. “One day never hurt anybody, right?” he says, smiling. “Besides they’re having mystery meat for lunch today. I always feel kind of queasy after eating that.”

“Then let’s take off before lunch and get real food.” I suggest. Then I get an interesting image of another kind of mystery meat, blink rapidly, and grin like an idiot in spite of myself.

Of course, that makes me fuck up opening the lock, and I have to start again.

Casey grins. “Sounds like a good idea to me.” he says.

He blinks. “Wow. I never thought I’d be excited about skipping school before. Of course, it’s not like I’ve had that many opportunities to do so.”

“You can help me figure out what I’m gonna wear to meet your parents.” I mutter as I finally get my locker open. “I didn’t sleep much last night. This is a very bad idea. What’s our first class today again? What day of the week is it?”

He laughs. “It’s Friday.” he says. “Our first class is American History with Mr. Tate. He’ll probably give a pop quiz about the chapter we were supposed to read last night.”

“What chapter was that?” I ask with a smirk. “Not that it matters.”

“Chapter 14, the start of World War II.” Casey says. “It’ll be a breeze. We’ve been learning the same stuff since we were in eighth grade.”

He looks at me curiously. “So why didn’t you sleep much last night? It wasn’t ‘cause of me, was it?”

“Okay. For you it’ll be a breeze.” I counter. “Yeah, I’m shitting bricks about meeting your parents. Maybe writing bullshit answers on a test will take my mind off of it for a while.”

I head into class.

He follows me into class. “You don’t have to meet them, Zeke.” he says quietly. “I mean, I really don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to, so just tell me if you really don’t want to. I’ll be okay with it.”

“I just don’t want to screw it up, is all.” I insist as I take a seat, any seat. “And if you haven’t noticed, I’m a screw up. I’ll do it though. Don’t worry.”

He smiles as he sits down in the seat in front of me. “Thanks Zeke. You won’t regret it.”

Mr. Tate enters the room a few minutes later and instructs us to take out a sheet of paper and number it one through five. Casey hands me a sheet of paper and a pencil and then slouches low in his seat, giving me a clear view of his paper over his shoulder.

My eyebrows raise momentarily. Sweeeeeet.

“I think I love you, Casey.” I mutter, dramatically enough so that he knows I’m joking. He knows I’m joking, right? Shit.

He chuckles and whispers, “I know.”

Then Mr. Tate starts asking pointed questions, stuff that you would definitely have had to read the book to know. Teachers are good at that kind of thing.

Casey, of course, jolts down most of the answers before Mr. Tate even finishes the question. Jeez, has he got a photographic memory or something?

Of course, by this point, I’m completely confused, and so I decide to just shut up and get cheating. I make sure I get at least one answer completely wrong, and misspell a word in another answer. I’m a master cheater. So I’ll just pass and Casey won’t get in trouble. Because I refuse to get Casey in trouble.

Shit, is it possible I might love him? Maybe a little? Shit, I gotta stop freaking myself out like this. They say weed makes you paranoid. Maybe I should lay off the stuff for a while.

The rest of the class is spent in a daze, watching Casey. He’s got his notebook out and he’s writing again. Every now and then he’ll stop and chew on the end of his pencil, this contemplative look on his face.

Once or twice he catches me staring at him and then he grins and goes back to writing in his notebook. Mr. Tate doesn’t even seem to notice. In fact, he’s standing in the exact same spot as when he began the class, leaning against his desk, looking bored. I think he wants to be here about as much as we do.

Finally the bell rings and the students make a mad dash for the door.

“So I was wondering,” Casey says as he closes his notebook and stashes it back in his backpack, “do you have any kind of pants besides jeans?”

“They’re leather.” I respond flatly. “Hey, thanks again for bailing me out on that test. I owe you one.”

Without breaking stride, I trip a guy who’s giving Casey the hairy eyeball in the hall. Ha ha, he fell down. Fucker.

Casey shoots me a wide-eyed look. “You have leather pants?” he says. He blinks, gulping. “Um. . .okay, jeans it is. And don’t worry about the test. No big deal.”

As we make our way through the hall, he keeps glancing at me, looking a little awestruck. “Leather pants. Nice.” I can almost swear I hear him mumble under his breath.

Then he shakes himself and stops at my locker. “Chem class is next.” he says. “Then English. Then we can jet.”

“Right.” I say as I stare down someone else I’m pretty sure is looking at Casey the way a cat watches a toy mouse. Shit, is it always like this? At any rate, the guy backs off.

In fact, I notice it constantly for the rest of the morning. It’s like Casey’s got a target painted on him or something. Holy shit, that’s pretty sick. Who elected him school punching bag, anyway? Just because he’s smart and small and a little geeky? He’s not hurting anyone.

I guess he threatens everyone though. Well, they’re gonna find out it’s not worth starting something with him that I’m gonna finish.

******

By the time lunch comes rolling around, I’m grinding my teeth and itching for a fight. I hate this school. I really hate this school.

Casey’s looking more than a little surprised. “Wow, there must be something in the water.” he mutters. “I’ve usually got a ton of bruises by now. . .”

He glances at me, then frowns slightly. “You okay, Zeke? You look tense.”

Then his eyes widen and I can almost see a little light bulb turning on above his head. “Ohhhhhhh.” he says, blinking.

“What?” I ask harshly. Yeeeeeeeah I’m wound a little too tight. But I’m trying to avoid drugs. See the vicious cycle I’m in?

“Let’s get the fuck outta here.” I snarl. My shoulders are really starting to ache.

He flinches. “Leaving sounds good.” he says.

He hesitates a moment, then says, “Zeke, you don’t have to be my protector. I’m pretty used to being a walking punching bag and I don’t want you to get hurt like you did before.”

I don’t respond to that. He’s gotta be crazy if he thinks I’m just going to sit here and let him get knocked around. I start to stuff my books back in my locker, then decide to take them instead, in case I decide to do homework. Just in case.

“I appreciate it though.” he says softly. “I’ve never had anybody stand up for me before.”

He looks strangely at my books for a moment and then shrugs. “So to your car then?” he says.

I nod.