((Continued from 3rd Period AP Chem))
Cheerleading practice with the girls never really satiated Andy Walker's need for adrenalin and endorphins. Especially not at Southridge Senior High. No one was as serious as he was about this dangerous sport, and that included the head cheerleader herself. And yes, if you asked him, cheerleading was indeed a sport. Looking good while throwing people into the air and then proceeding to do a series of back flips ending in a back tuck was hard work, and people ought to recognize the discipline and skill that it took to execute stunts perfectly. It was also a good way to take out frustration without hurting anyone. The anger that Andy felt about Eduardo Trinidad-Villa kept him working up a sweat. It was free period for him, but the blonde considered practice more important than slacking off for a break. He could be getting a work-out and cleaning up his less than perfect herkie.
Ah. There it was. The rush of blood to the head that the cheerleader loved. The rapid beating of his heart. He was secretly an adrenalin junkie. He lived for the way his blood raced and the goosepimples spread about his skin. There was no one else in the gymnasium around this time; so the boy was free. Taking a deep breath, Andy started the routine. High V, low V, run ahead, cartwheel, stop. Standing back tuck, frontward roll, up into high V, toe touch. Arms out, horizontal to the floor. There was music ringing in his ears, though the large gym was completely silent. Rhythmic techno gave him strength to keep dancing in that robotic style that cheering required. Here was the end, the big finish splits. A terrible pain that always sent fire into his groin, the full frontal splits was agonizingly perfect for a male.
'Ow. I wonder if it'll always hurt me,' he thought, trying to concentrate on keeping a smile on his face. Not knowing if he was alone or not now, the blonde was careful in getting up. After all, he was practically naked. A pair of small shorts and a tank top were all he practiced in. Easier to move around in. Idly he wondered if he looked like a girl from far away. The way his hair allowed a very feminine look used to make the boy feel good about himself, but lately he was feeling like it was too easily recognizable. His bright blonde hair and uncharacteristic brown eyes were pretty, but was that all that anyone thought of him. Just a pretty face and no real brains? He certainly hoped not. He was nice to everyone he could be, but there were a lot of fake people among his peers. He thought about it more as he paced towards the locker room; after all, he needed a shower. Otherwise he'd be smelling strongly of sweat next period. The boy only hoped that the showers were empty.
Fit For a Queen.
Character progression.
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lovebirdjo†
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Fit For a Queen.
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((Troy continued from cameo in Sweet for Some, Painful for Others))
Troy McCann was one tired (wannabe) gangsta. He was also a very frustrated gangsta, and one could read that on his face as he walked into the locker room, wearing his sweat-stained "Rebels" practice uniform.
Ever since he'd gotten mauled by a freak probably half his size in a smiley-face mask just for doing what a normal, hormonal teenager would be doing in those circumstances (and before that, mauled by some rockstar freak who just happened to be the fight club's new bouncer), Troy "Trojan" McCann had been training extra hard to regain his proverbial manhood. He happened to have a free period in his schedule that he'd use to get some extra B-Ball practice in while not with his varsity buddies, and vent his frustrations. Particularly those about people complaining that he was a much nicer guy while he was a nerd (days he didn't like to remember). Still, one thing practice and venting eventually did was tire a person out, so it was time for this gangsta to hit the showers before his next class started.
He took his jersey off the moment he reached his locker. After undressing almost all of the rest, he wrapped a towel around his waist before removing his underwear, and grabbed the soap from his locker before moving on to the shower. But just before he stepped onto the tile, he could spot another person entering the showers. Someone who looked disturbingly feminine for the men's locker with that blonde hair. Of course, he couldn't see the figure's front, but it wasn't like he wanted to make sure. If that did turn out to be a gay dude, he didn't want to think of the consequences, especially when prison showers came into mind.
Must be one of those girls on a dare to go into the guy's locker room. Good thing there aren't many other guys in here to expose her.
He took up a shower within earshot distance of whoever that was about to bathe, making sure that whoever was there couldn't also see him. If his shower-mate tried anything, this time he'd be ready.
Troy McCann was one tired (wannabe) gangsta. He was also a very frustrated gangsta, and one could read that on his face as he walked into the locker room, wearing his sweat-stained "Rebels" practice uniform.
Ever since he'd gotten mauled by a freak probably half his size in a smiley-face mask just for doing what a normal, hormonal teenager would be doing in those circumstances (and before that, mauled by some rockstar freak who just happened to be the fight club's new bouncer), Troy "Trojan" McCann had been training extra hard to regain his proverbial manhood. He happened to have a free period in his schedule that he'd use to get some extra B-Ball practice in while not with his varsity buddies, and vent his frustrations. Particularly those about people complaining that he was a much nicer guy while he was a nerd (days he didn't like to remember). Still, one thing practice and venting eventually did was tire a person out, so it was time for this gangsta to hit the showers before his next class started.
He took his jersey off the moment he reached his locker. After undressing almost all of the rest, he wrapped a towel around his waist before removing his underwear, and grabbed the soap from his locker before moving on to the shower. But just before he stepped onto the tile, he could spot another person entering the showers. Someone who looked disturbingly feminine for the men's locker with that blonde hair. Of course, he couldn't see the figure's front, but it wasn't like he wanted to make sure. If that did turn out to be a gay dude, he didn't want to think of the consequences, especially when prison showers came into mind.
Must be one of those girls on a dare to go into the guy's locker room. Good thing there aren't many other guys in here to expose her.
He took up a shower within earshot distance of whoever that was about to bathe, making sure that whoever was there couldn't also see him. If his shower-mate tried anything, this time he'd be ready.
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lovebirdjo†
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Showering was always fun after a good work out, especially when one was sweaty and their body needed some relaxation. Now was definitely one of those times for Andy. His hair was glued to his face stickily, and his body was coated with a sheen of salty liquid. Tasting the familiar bodily fluid on his tongue, the boy sighed heavily, finally relieved of some stress. As soon as he was past the doors leading to the boys locker room, he made his way to his locker. It was eerily silent at this time of the day, but the silence was like ringing in his ears. Intoxicating almost. The adrenalin still pumping through his blood told him he should be on edge, but it was just the locker room. The blonde had been here so many times that it wasn't a big deal if someone was there to see him in a pair of silky orange shorts and a white tank top. It wouldn't matter.
His locker, like all the others, smelled strongly of sweat. His bag was there inside of it, where he kept a change of clothes every day. The pastel pink of a button-up shirt was easily visible amidst the grey and black of the rest of the locker, even in the poor lighting. Andy grabbed the entire bag and closed his locker, the metal clanging only loud enough for him to hear. He was careful not to be too loud, even though he knew there was nothing to fear. His mind told him to be wary, but the boy wasn't listening. Instead of paying any mind, the blonde walked past the rows of lockers and the coaches' offices straight towards the showers. Though obviously communal to some degree, the school had kindly installed some stalls for the less exhibitionist of the athletics department. Just before stepping into the room, Andy stopped to take off his clothing.
The silk shorts felt nice as they dropped to his naked feet, and the white pair of briefs fell shortly thereafter. Stepping out of them, Andy pulled the tank top up and over his chest and head, placing the entire ensemble on a nearby bench, the blonde carefully unzipped the black duffelbag and pulled out a single white towel. Laying it carefully onto the bench, he turned around and headed for one of the stalls at the end of the large room, his hips swaying as he did so. His hair was just below his shoulders, a splash of heavenly blonde against his somewhat sunny skin. To the onlooker, it would appear as though a girl had accidentally found the men's showers. Eyes on him, like some sort of deranged group of men eyeing a young girl. The thought made Andy shudder as he thought about a girl naked. He'd tried that road before, and it wasn't the right direction for him. The boy though he heard a noise behind him, but the pipes were probably just squeaking or something. Trying not to think about it too much, he didn't turn around, though his mind was on edge. Reaching the empty stall, the cheerleader robotically turned on the hot water.
There it was. That soothing stream of warm water, refreshing his body and wetting his hair. The water's pressure was heavy upon Andy's skin, spraying his naked torso and legs with heat. He sighed like before, though this time out of pleasure. Dipping his head under the nozzle, the blonde felt his scalp being massaged. Everything was fine. He was peacefully alone, and he had just been the victim of auditory hallucination. The adrenalin would have been the cause. Besides, nothing bad would or could happen inside of a school's shower. At least, he hoped not.
His locker, like all the others, smelled strongly of sweat. His bag was there inside of it, where he kept a change of clothes every day. The pastel pink of a button-up shirt was easily visible amidst the grey and black of the rest of the locker, even in the poor lighting. Andy grabbed the entire bag and closed his locker, the metal clanging only loud enough for him to hear. He was careful not to be too loud, even though he knew there was nothing to fear. His mind told him to be wary, but the boy wasn't listening. Instead of paying any mind, the blonde walked past the rows of lockers and the coaches' offices straight towards the showers. Though obviously communal to some degree, the school had kindly installed some stalls for the less exhibitionist of the athletics department. Just before stepping into the room, Andy stopped to take off his clothing.
The silk shorts felt nice as they dropped to his naked feet, and the white pair of briefs fell shortly thereafter. Stepping out of them, Andy pulled the tank top up and over his chest and head, placing the entire ensemble on a nearby bench, the blonde carefully unzipped the black duffelbag and pulled out a single white towel. Laying it carefully onto the bench, he turned around and headed for one of the stalls at the end of the large room, his hips swaying as he did so. His hair was just below his shoulders, a splash of heavenly blonde against his somewhat sunny skin. To the onlooker, it would appear as though a girl had accidentally found the men's showers. Eyes on him, like some sort of deranged group of men eyeing a young girl. The thought made Andy shudder as he thought about a girl naked. He'd tried that road before, and it wasn't the right direction for him. The boy though he heard a noise behind him, but the pipes were probably just squeaking or something. Trying not to think about it too much, he didn't turn around, though his mind was on edge. Reaching the empty stall, the cheerleader robotically turned on the hot water.
There it was. That soothing stream of warm water, refreshing his body and wetting his hair. The water's pressure was heavy upon Andy's skin, spraying his naked torso and legs with heat. He sighed like before, though this time out of pleasure. Dipping his head under the nozzle, the blonde felt his scalp being massaged. Everything was fine. He was peacefully alone, and he had just been the victim of auditory hallucination. The adrenalin would have been the cause. Besides, nothing bad would or could happen inside of a school's shower. At least, he hoped not.
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From the relative privacy of the stall where Troy was, he could really only see the person's hair and a good portion of that person's head, but the details were blurred through the water effects and the steam. He noticed gleaming blonde hair, and it concerned him (not in a good way) that the first male to come to mind with hair like that was none other than head cheerleader Anderson Walker. Were there a rainbow forming through the mist, Troy's eyes would be twitching out of sheer disgust. On the other hand, he knew quite a few blond chicks who would often try dares like these, though there were also lesbians who'd try that.
Wait...snap outta this. I'm thinking too much. It's nothing.
Troy quickly shook his head and started to apply the soap brick to his armpits. Too much curiosity would kill the cat and awaken the snake, and the latter would require him to shut off the hot water as soon as possible if it turned out to be another guy over there. And humiliation - despite him being in the relative privacy of his stall - was nowhere near the top of his list. Still, there was something nagging him that he really wanted to know, at least for his own personal safety and closure. Were he still the nerd he was a few months ago, he probably would've just let this whole thing pass. But no, being a gangsta meant it'd be a red mark on his cred if he were caught hanging out with someone who "swung that way." If it turned out to be a normal, straight dude, he could at least leave the locker with peace of mind.
Knowing that he couldn't literally go over there himself and check, Troy's mind quickly thought up an alternative that would require a lot less psychological effort. He moved the soap down to his shins and feet, closing his eyes so he wasn't looking directly at the other person.
"Ay, you all psyched up for the game tomorrow night?" Troy asked loud enough to be heard across the shower room, trying not to let any reluctance show.
It was a generic if not rather appropriate (given the setting) question to ask someone whose gender he didn't recognize at first. He would at least get a good idea of the person's gender from the reply. If indeed it was a girl, he would be able to tell a half-hearted attempt to lower the pitch of their voice. Either way, it wouldn't as easily betray their orientation.
"Northridge's been pissed over their loss to San Adrian las' week. They gon' be tryin' extra hard this time."
Wait...snap outta this. I'm thinking too much. It's nothing.
Troy quickly shook his head and started to apply the soap brick to his armpits. Too much curiosity would kill the cat and awaken the snake, and the latter would require him to shut off the hot water as soon as possible if it turned out to be another guy over there. And humiliation - despite him being in the relative privacy of his stall - was nowhere near the top of his list. Still, there was something nagging him that he really wanted to know, at least for his own personal safety and closure. Were he still the nerd he was a few months ago, he probably would've just let this whole thing pass. But no, being a gangsta meant it'd be a red mark on his cred if he were caught hanging out with someone who "swung that way." If it turned out to be a normal, straight dude, he could at least leave the locker with peace of mind.
Knowing that he couldn't literally go over there himself and check, Troy's mind quickly thought up an alternative that would require a lot less psychological effort. He moved the soap down to his shins and feet, closing his eyes so he wasn't looking directly at the other person.
"Ay, you all psyched up for the game tomorrow night?" Troy asked loud enough to be heard across the shower room, trying not to let any reluctance show.
It was a generic if not rather appropriate (given the setting) question to ask someone whose gender he didn't recognize at first. He would at least get a good idea of the person's gender from the reply. If indeed it was a girl, he would be able to tell a half-hearted attempt to lower the pitch of their voice. Either way, it wouldn't as easily betray their orientation.
"Northridge's been pissed over their loss to San Adrian las' week. They gon' be tryin' extra hard this time."
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lovebirdjo†
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Peaceful bliss remained on Andy's face for a long moment, and it was quiet in the room as a cascade of water splashed his body, unrelentingly pleasant. Then, suddenly he was thrown from his thoughtless dream world by an echoed, questioning voice. Not just any voice, either. The voice was a semi-deep masculine voice, casual and curious. Great. A jock was in the showers with him. This was just perfect for the blonde's day. Jocks were always trouble, even if they were all on the same team. This was just going to cause chaos; the blonde was sure of it.
"Ay, you all psyched up for the game tomorrow night," the voice asked, and at once Andy recognized the attempted swagger in the drawl. It had to be Troy McCann, that nerd-turned-wannabe gangster. Previously he had been a nice enough guy, and there were even sparing moments when the cheerleader had speculated the nerdy boy being gay before; but now the boy was just the opposite. In some ridiculous display of manhood, Troy kept trying to appear like he was dangerous or powerful by making trouble for everyone. Ha. To the blonde, he was more of a poser than anything else. It was pretty obvious that he just wanted attention, otherwise he'd be more honest with himself.
"Northridge's been pissed over their loss to San Adrian las' week. They gon' be tryin' extra hard this time," Troy continued, and Andy almost winced at the choppy sound of his voice. But at the moment, the androgyne made sure that he kept his voice as controlled and friendly as possible with his response. If he didn't make enemies, they could both go on their merry way when their showers were over with. If only he hadn't gone out of his way to perfect that damn routine, he never would be stuck in this position in the first place. 'Way to go, Andy,' he told himself in a Mother hen voice. He should've payed more attention to the noise he had heard.
"Heh. I doubt we need to worry about them. They don't have a chance," the blonde finally responded, knowing that his high-pitched answer was stupid and way too cocky, but it was true. Southridge was going to kick ass tomorrow night. The cheerleaders had been watching the boys practice this year, and they knew that Northridge's defensive players were mostly sophomores, and definitely not the greatest. "I'd wager we could shut them out. You know if there's going to be an after party if we win," he questioned, though he wasn't really curious at all. The cheerleader hated going to parties, and if the bonfire was example enough, he didn't have much luck with them either. And it didn't look like luck was on his side now.
"Ay, you all psyched up for the game tomorrow night," the voice asked, and at once Andy recognized the attempted swagger in the drawl. It had to be Troy McCann, that nerd-turned-wannabe gangster. Previously he had been a nice enough guy, and there were even sparing moments when the cheerleader had speculated the nerdy boy being gay before; but now the boy was just the opposite. In some ridiculous display of manhood, Troy kept trying to appear like he was dangerous or powerful by making trouble for everyone. Ha. To the blonde, he was more of a poser than anything else. It was pretty obvious that he just wanted attention, otherwise he'd be more honest with himself.
"Northridge's been pissed over their loss to San Adrian las' week. They gon' be tryin' extra hard this time," Troy continued, and Andy almost winced at the choppy sound of his voice. But at the moment, the androgyne made sure that he kept his voice as controlled and friendly as possible with his response. If he didn't make enemies, they could both go on their merry way when their showers were over with. If only he hadn't gone out of his way to perfect that damn routine, he never would be stuck in this position in the first place. 'Way to go, Andy,' he told himself in a Mother hen voice. He should've payed more attention to the noise he had heard.
"Heh. I doubt we need to worry about them. They don't have a chance," the blonde finally responded, knowing that his high-pitched answer was stupid and way too cocky, but it was true. Southridge was going to kick ass tomorrow night. The cheerleaders had been watching the boys practice this year, and they knew that Northridge's defensive players were mostly sophomores, and definitely not the greatest. "I'd wager we could shut them out. You know if there's going to be an after party if we win," he questioned, though he wasn't really curious at all. The cheerleader hated going to parties, and if the bonfire was example enough, he didn't have much luck with them either. And it didn't look like luck was on his side now.
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Troy truly believed that being gangsta was being honest with himself, and his ethnicity. Acting manly (as it were) was simply part of that adolescent stage where people constantly needed to prove themselves. That wouldn't be something Troy would've minded had this not been the boiling pot/proving ground that was high school. But being the nerd he was nigh a few months ago meant he wasn't just open-minded, but he was open to some rather unjustified abuse; not from jocks but from those whom he now tried to liken himself to. His parents had been constantly lecturing him on how those kinds of people would drop out and end up either shot or raped-then-killed in jail, and it always seemed to enrage them when he retorted that it was better than being an "Uncle Tom."
It was in these times that Troy reminded himself of the immortal words of Dr. Martin Luther King. Words that would have come to mind had the other person's words not suddenly chimed in on him.
"Heh. I doubt we need to worry about them. They don't have a chance," came the high-pitched and cocky response from the other shower. "I'd wager we could shut them out. You know if there's going to be an after party if we win," The thought of the after party would've been nice...were it not being mentioned by the person he suddenly realized was saying it.
Shit. It's Anderson Walker.
Unlike what people were saying about Troy, Andy was really that type of person who lived up to all the hype...although in Andy's case it was all that bit about all the rainbows that seemed to radiate from him. Indeed, when Troy was a nerd, he used to think - albeit sparingly - that Andy was sorta cute. Nowadays he had to train himself not only to focus on the basket but stop focusing on Andy when the cheerleaders came out during the games in part due to eye-twitching thoughts and fears of him finally deciding to dress like the rest of the squad. At least now knowing who that was no longer made a cold shower necessary.
Troy could somehow sense that Andy knew that was Troy in the other shower, but then again with an "announcement" like the one Troy just made, who wouldn't? Of course, that now eliminated violence as an option even though they were in the core of the jock hive. If there was one organization that had the suing power of the NAACP, it was the ACLU, and as much as he hated to mentally admit it, his parents probably wouldn't back him up if Andy sued for a hate crime, just to "teach him a lesson."
"You know, y'all sound kinda tense. Somethin' wrong?" he asked as he started to rinse himself off. Given that he and Andy seemed to be the only ones in the shower room, he figured he could at least negotiate his way out, and he sounded rather confident while doing so.
It was in these times that Troy reminded himself of the immortal words of Dr. Martin Luther King. Words that would have come to mind had the other person's words not suddenly chimed in on him.
"Heh. I doubt we need to worry about them. They don't have a chance," came the high-pitched and cocky response from the other shower. "I'd wager we could shut them out. You know if there's going to be an after party if we win," The thought of the after party would've been nice...were it not being mentioned by the person he suddenly realized was saying it.
Shit. It's Anderson Walker.
Unlike what people were saying about Troy, Andy was really that type of person who lived up to all the hype...although in Andy's case it was all that bit about all the rainbows that seemed to radiate from him. Indeed, when Troy was a nerd, he used to think - albeit sparingly - that Andy was sorta cute. Nowadays he had to train himself not only to focus on the basket but stop focusing on Andy when the cheerleaders came out during the games in part due to eye-twitching thoughts and fears of him finally deciding to dress like the rest of the squad. At least now knowing who that was no longer made a cold shower necessary.
Troy could somehow sense that Andy knew that was Troy in the other shower, but then again with an "announcement" like the one Troy just made, who wouldn't? Of course, that now eliminated violence as an option even though they were in the core of the jock hive. If there was one organization that had the suing power of the NAACP, it was the ACLU, and as much as he hated to mentally admit it, his parents probably wouldn't back him up if Andy sued for a hate crime, just to "teach him a lesson."
"You know, y'all sound kinda tense. Somethin' wrong?" he asked as he started to rinse himself off. Given that he and Andy seemed to be the only ones in the shower room, he figured he could at least negotiate his way out, and he sounded rather confident while doing so.
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lovebirdjo†
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((Sorry, laZ. I couldn't think of anything else to add in.))
Truth be told, Andy was tense. It was bad enough that McCann was in the showers with him, but it was ten times worse that the boy had struck up a conversation with the cheerleader. The other boy had inquired about what was wrong with him. This whole situation was ridiculous! That was what was wrong with the blonde right now. He didn't want to be in a large room, naked with a guy who probably would like to kick his ass in order to look more manly to the public. If there were a fight, Andy could always use his speed and small size to his advantage, but he definitely would prefer to get through the day without any violence. Here and now, the cheerleader would have to get over whatever nervousness he had and act confident. As such, he turned to face Troy, pretending not to care that they were both naked in the shower.
'Without anyone around,' Andy told himself, which caused the cheerleader to cringe mildly. Bringing his hands up to his hair, he played with his long, goldish locks before opening his mouth to respond to the other boy.
"No. Not really. Hoping no one gets hurt tomorrow night, I guess. That, and I think Gault's lost his damn mind in Chemistry," the boy said with as much confidence as he could muster. Instead of trying to weasel out of the situation, the blonde was taking the other route. He would try to get Troy to leave first. Maybe freak him out a little bit. That was when Andy finally took a peak at the other boy. After a few months of working out, the African American boy was definitely improving his body. The cheerleader was impressed with the definition, and he let his eyes linger on the other figure for a while, thinking that Troy would become uncomfortable and leave Andy to the rest of his shower.
Truth be told, Andy was tense. It was bad enough that McCann was in the showers with him, but it was ten times worse that the boy had struck up a conversation with the cheerleader. The other boy had inquired about what was wrong with him. This whole situation was ridiculous! That was what was wrong with the blonde right now. He didn't want to be in a large room, naked with a guy who probably would like to kick his ass in order to look more manly to the public. If there were a fight, Andy could always use his speed and small size to his advantage, but he definitely would prefer to get through the day without any violence. Here and now, the cheerleader would have to get over whatever nervousness he had and act confident. As such, he turned to face Troy, pretending not to care that they were both naked in the shower.
'Without anyone around,' Andy told himself, which caused the cheerleader to cringe mildly. Bringing his hands up to his hair, he played with his long, goldish locks before opening his mouth to respond to the other boy.
"No. Not really. Hoping no one gets hurt tomorrow night, I guess. That, and I think Gault's lost his damn mind in Chemistry," the boy said with as much confidence as he could muster. Instead of trying to weasel out of the situation, the blonde was taking the other route. He would try to get Troy to leave first. Maybe freak him out a little bit. That was when Andy finally took a peak at the other boy. After a few months of working out, the African American boy was definitely improving his body. The cheerleader was impressed with the definition, and he let his eyes linger on the other figure for a while, thinking that Troy would become uncomfortable and leave Andy to the rest of his shower.
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"No. Not really. Hoping no one gets hurt tomorrow night, I guess. That, and I think Gault's lost his damn mind in Chemistry," Andy apparently seemed to want to be around Troy no more than Troy wanted to be around Andy. At least that was a mutual feeling that Troy could understand. The problem it seemed was how to dislodge the other from their space without causing too much trouble...a situation quickly exacerbated by what Andy did next. Soon Troy found himself staring at a vision that would have mesmerized him (black or white, booty is booty) had he not known that it was a guy doing so.
He's...staring...at...me.
There was a brief pause before Troy suddenly squinted and rubbed his eyes like he'd gotten soap in them (whether he actually did was irrelevant.) He turned to face the exit while his eyes were closed, so at least he looked like he wasn't deliberately trying to avoid the rainbow gaze. Too much exposure to that could melt any man. He also made sure to ease off the hot water just in case. He opened his eyes to find his towel, which he quickly started to dry himself off with. At least he didn't open his eyes to find an Andy who'd quickly made his way to his stall for some good times...at Troy's expense.
"Shit man...they all losing their minds. Whose bright idea was it to put the wrestling coach in Political Science?" Troy resumed speaking a bit hastily. As long as he could keep up the conversation until he was dressed again, he'd be fine. "Hell, I'm surprised that some people even actually study through those guys. Like this one vato...what was his name again...Eddie?" That was a question Troy threw away as matter-of-fact as he could muster.
He's...staring...at...me.
There was a brief pause before Troy suddenly squinted and rubbed his eyes like he'd gotten soap in them (whether he actually did was irrelevant.) He turned to face the exit while his eyes were closed, so at least he looked like he wasn't deliberately trying to avoid the rainbow gaze. Too much exposure to that could melt any man. He also made sure to ease off the hot water just in case. He opened his eyes to find his towel, which he quickly started to dry himself off with. At least he didn't open his eyes to find an Andy who'd quickly made his way to his stall for some good times...at Troy's expense.
"Shit man...they all losing their minds. Whose bright idea was it to put the wrestling coach in Political Science?" Troy resumed speaking a bit hastily. As long as he could keep up the conversation until he was dressed again, he'd be fine. "Hell, I'm surprised that some people even actually study through those guys. Like this one vato...what was his name again...Eddie?" That was a question Troy threw away as matter-of-fact as he could muster.
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lovebirdjo†
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- Joined: Mon Sep 03, 2018 6:36 am
Somehow, Troy knew the perfect was to upset Andy. The blonde had forgotten all about Eduardo for a good bit of time, but it all came crashing back down so fast. Marvelous. This was just crystal-clear perfect. How could he think of attempting to respond to the black boy now? His voice would surely waver if he tried to reply, and already he could feel his blood bubbling up from his anxiety. When he was unnerved or emotional, he acted out in odd ways. He had to think of an excuse and get out of there, and fast. Otherwise he might end up kissing the showering Troy. Just the thought made Andy queasy, but some part of his mind whispered for him to take advantage of the opportunity. The cheerleader struggled with his composure. Forcing a grip on his flurried emotions as he spoke, the cheerleader finally bit out an answer with as much a casual tone as possible.
"I-I don't think I know of him. He must be in another grade," Andy lied to the other boy, "Anyway, I've got to go. I just remembered I have a paper due in seventh period, and I've only just started it." It was a really ridiculous lie, though convincing enough in a school like Southridge. Teachers gave heaping amounts of homework to seniors, often calling it a "farewell gift"; however, he didn't have some stupid paper due, he just wanted out of the shower and away from Troy as soon as humanly possible.
'Gotta talk to Izzy. She'll know what to about all this crap.'
Not willing to wait on the delayed response from Troy, the blonde boy rushed to turn off the shower faucet before hurrying out of the showers in long, reckless strides. Frigid air from the conditioned locker room blasted his naked body as he slid along the concrete floor, but he was in far too much of a rush to care about the temperature or its effects on his anatomy. Reaching his towel, Andy dried off like some sort of marathon runner. He then grabbed the clothes on the bench and threw them on in a frenzy. His hair still wet, he shook it out before speeding out of the locker room and into the gym. There he took a well-needed deep breath. The thought of Eduardo hung over his head like the scent of blood might for a vampire. Agonizing, as it were.
Pulling out his cell, Andy dialed the number of his best friend in the world; she was the one person he could turn to for help with something like this. There were too many fake people at Southridge for him to put trust into anyone else. Schools had the tendency to bring about more rumors than one thought possible. He certainly didn't need to deal with that right now.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Click. 'An answer!'
"Hey. Can you meet me somewhere like, now? I'm in the gym right now. I think I'm having a panic attack."
((Continued in The Grand Lie))
"I-I don't think I know of him. He must be in another grade," Andy lied to the other boy, "Anyway, I've got to go. I just remembered I have a paper due in seventh period, and I've only just started it." It was a really ridiculous lie, though convincing enough in a school like Southridge. Teachers gave heaping amounts of homework to seniors, often calling it a "farewell gift"; however, he didn't have some stupid paper due, he just wanted out of the shower and away from Troy as soon as humanly possible.
'Gotta talk to Izzy. She'll know what to about all this crap.'
Not willing to wait on the delayed response from Troy, the blonde boy rushed to turn off the shower faucet before hurrying out of the showers in long, reckless strides. Frigid air from the conditioned locker room blasted his naked body as he slid along the concrete floor, but he was in far too much of a rush to care about the temperature or its effects on his anatomy. Reaching his towel, Andy dried off like some sort of marathon runner. He then grabbed the clothes on the bench and threw them on in a frenzy. His hair still wet, he shook it out before speeding out of the locker room and into the gym. There he took a well-needed deep breath. The thought of Eduardo hung over his head like the scent of blood might for a vampire. Agonizing, as it were.
Pulling out his cell, Andy dialed the number of his best friend in the world; she was the one person he could turn to for help with something like this. There were too many fake people at Southridge for him to put trust into anyone else. Schools had the tendency to bring about more rumors than one thought possible. He certainly didn't need to deal with that right now.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Click. 'An answer!'
"Hey. Can you meet me somewhere like, now? I'm in the gym right now. I think I'm having a panic attack."
((Continued in The Grand Lie))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler lovebirdjo. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
Troy had in all honesty dropped Eduardo's name out of sarcasm, mainly to delay any sort of "advance" Andy might make until he was safely dressed and out of the shower. As luck would have it, the name seemed to cause Andy to get very tense, the reply and subsequent reaction very rushed. Troy actually raised an eyebrow as the male cheerleader actually ran out of the shower and quickly dressed himself before leaving, his blond locks leaving a trail of water as he left the locker room. There was yet another moment of awkward silence while Troy stood in the cold shower...and it took a bit of shivering for him to regain his bearings.
"Damn, whas' up with him? It's like he's in love with that guy or something," he said to himself. Not that Troy could imagine anyone even liking, let alone in love with someone like Ed. That kid was ice cold, even in the non-slang sense of the word, and someone like Andy would really have to have been desperate to even consider having feelings for Eduardo. Hell, there were times that even despite his recent run of bad luck with his "bruthas" and potential girlfriends, at least he was thankful that he made it out of nerd-dom. Of course, the one good thing about still having the brain of a nerd was that he could still pick up things that weren't always learned on the streets.
"At least I know what to do next time he comes near me again..." Troy muttered to himself as he started up the shower again. Now that Andy had made his hasty exit, the gangsta didn't have to worry about making his, and he started to quietly hum an R&B tune as he started to soap his back.
((Troy Continued Elsewhere))
"Damn, whas' up with him? It's like he's in love with that guy or something," he said to himself. Not that Troy could imagine anyone even liking, let alone in love with someone like Ed. That kid was ice cold, even in the non-slang sense of the word, and someone like Andy would really have to have been desperate to even consider having feelings for Eduardo. Hell, there were times that even despite his recent run of bad luck with his "bruthas" and potential girlfriends, at least he was thankful that he made it out of nerd-dom. Of course, the one good thing about still having the brain of a nerd was that he could still pick up things that weren't always learned on the streets.
"At least I know what to do next time he comes near me again..." Troy muttered to himself as he started up the shower again. Now that Andy had made his hasty exit, the gangsta didn't have to worry about making his, and he started to quietly hum an R&B tune as he started to soap his back.
((Troy Continued Elsewhere))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler laZardo. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.