I don't own The Clique, South Park, and the teensy mention of my best friend Melissa's dream car, the Volvo.
I've been away too long. My last oneshot was months and months ago. Hope I haven't lost my touch.
Summary: And when the anger starts to fade away, all Josh Hotz can feel is nothing. CC, one-sided JC
--
Wednesday
The first time he wears the T-shirt, he didn't mean to. All his blazers and shirts miraculously were sent to laundry, and all he had was an old T-shirt he forgot he had. Her eyes widen in wonder as she sees it. He feels puzzled himself; do girls really watch South Park?
She begins to talk and gush and giggle and blush, and he finds himself hooked.
And when he gives him her number, he doesn't hesitate to key it in and offer to let her borrow all his South Park DVDs in exchange for a mere Kyle bobble head knick-knack.
Wednesday must be his lucky day.
--
He wears his South Park T-shirt for her on Wednesdays.
It's nothing special; plain white with a picture of Kyle, their favorite character gracing the front. She admired it once, and little butterflies began fluttering inside his stomach when he saw how cheered up she was by it.
Today, Wednesday after school, is no different. He shrugs off his blazer and flings it down over his book bag, savoring the crisp September air. School seems like a million miles away from where he was, and he looks around to make sure no one else is in the park.
He almost grabs his Ralph Lauren blazer to slide back on, when he sees her. Eyes bluer than usual as they swim with tears, she slumps down in the seat of the swing next to him, wordlessly gripping the rusted metal chains.
He doesn't need to ask her to know why she's crying. Instead, he looks up at the sky, looks down again, and is greeted by the sight of his T-shirt.
"Hey." He nudges her softly with his arm. Her eyes stray to his shirt, and she can almost smile.
And that's when the fluttering erupts inside of him.
--
Massie Block wrinkles her nose. Kristen Gregory raises her eyebrows in amazement. Dylan Marvil burps in surprise and Alicia Rivera's lips are parting wordlessly as he and his friends parade down Main Street, welcoming the shouts of encouragement for the soccer game next week.
He avoids Alicia's accusing eyes and searches the Volvos and trees and streetlights for the ones that truly matter. And there she is, walking down the street and smiling with her friend Layne, but when she spots him, she stops short. He can see her smile widening, and as she approaches him, she takes in his eyes. His smile. His T-shirt.
"Did Alicia steal all your RLs?" she chides jokingly, and he feels jealousy and hatred seeping through her (though he doesn't really care) and his (he worries a little) eyes.
He is glad it's Wednesday.
--
It's Tuesday during the first game of the season when he decides that those… fluttering he experiences when she's around aren't butterflies. No, they're moths, much manlier.
He feels a smile forming on his face when he sees her jumping up and down in the bleachers. She waves to him, and he starts to wave back, when he realizes something.
It isn't him she's smiling at. It's Cam Fisher.
The angry moths beat their wings inside his chest, and he wishes it is Wednesday.
--
The news spreads through Briarwood Academy like wildfire. Claire Lyons and Cam Fisher are back together, and he is more surprised than Alicia when she found out he had given up on Ralph Lauren.
He grits his teeth as he congratulates Cam, ignoring how smug his psychotic eyes look. H imagines himself punching Cam in the gut, and clenches his hands into fists, telling himself violence is never the answer.
But when he sees Cam going on and on how Claire gave him a T-shirt last night for their one-week-anniversary, he finds his fist making contact with Cam's jaw.
Violence, shmiolence. Cam's the one who ruined his Wednesday.
--
Claire huffs and puffs and glares and her bangs part in the middle into an upside-down V, yet she still looks delicious to him.
"I don't get it." Her scowl deepens as she surveys him and his T-shirt. "I like him. He likes me. I like you. You like me. Shouldn't you both be like, programmed to like each other too? You have something in common!"
He doesn't answer. He just looks up at the sky, tugging on his T-shirt, wishing for a recurrence of that long lost Wednesday.
Her eyes swim with angry tears and she stares long and hard at him.
Butterflies don't creep up on him anymore. Those beautiful butterflies have turned into angry moths, and those moths are pounding and heaving against his chest, willing his heart to break.
--
It's a dreary Wednesday evening. Josh Hotz flings his blazer down on his book bag and pulls his T-shirt over his head, throwing it into the heap of dried leaves and newspaper. He grabs every single South Park DVD he owns and kicks in the Kyle bobble head given to him so long ago by a certain Claire Lyons.
As he drops a burning match into the miserable mess by his feat, the moths are screaming in protest, but he ignores them. He drops an old sweat sock into the fire, and he tears pictures are articles from every Briarwood Academy yearbook he sets his eye son, and watches as flames gobble up Cam Fisher's picture.
He flips his middle finger at the sky, cursing Cam Fisher, cursing those damned moths, cursing the fact that Cam Fisher took his Wednesdays away from him. And when he's done being angry at the world, he begins to feel angry at himself for letting all this happen.
And when the anger starts to fade away, all he can feel is nothing. Because like Cam, Claire Lyons had taken something from him too, with the help of those moths. And he didn't think he'd ever be getting his heart back.
--
Blasphemy, that sucked.
But even though Cassie equals love, JoshClaire is so cute.
And yeah, Chuck kept whispering and whispering in my ear to put in a nice little butterfly/moth insert. Who am I to deny my soul mate? This oneshot was inspired by my best friend Hannah (Dernier Cri, go read her fics RIGHT NOW). You're in denial, girl. If Alan wears South Park shirts for you every Wednesday just because you want him to, I… Well, I don't need to say it.
What say you, potential reviewers?