Cavanaugh Park

Chapter 3

Hotshot

Let's get drunk
You can drive us to the harbor
Wish upon a star but
Do you know what stars are?
Balls of fire, burning up the black space
Falling from the landscape
Exploding in the face of God

Down – Something Corporate

1

'Once we rid ourselves of the abomination that these people cause everything will go back to normal. It's like all conflicts before, issues of race and homosexuality. These 'gifted' children, teenagers, adults, would do better, would better provide service to society if we lock them up. In some states they teach these children to embrace this mutation, to think they are something special. I will not have it here. I will not have my children brought up in a place where these people are going to be prevalent in society, where they will be infecting our youth with their ideas.'

'Ego, stop it. Please.'

'I will see to it that once I am elected to congress the law that we have worked so hard to pass in this state, banning the teaching of these 'gifted' students, will be spread to others. I want my family; my wife, my son, and my daughter to live in a world that is safe, not one where they need to worry about these mutants.'

'Ego!'

The boy seemed to only concentrate harder on his father's speech. It was as if Dutchy was looking out of his eyes then. He was onstage with his father looking out into the crowd; a sea off old, white men, balding or gray, and conservative as the Mormon, except lacking the personality or humor.

'My name is-' Ego was talking now… 'I support my father's message. I guess some people consider this 'gift' as they've been calling it to be a blessing of some sort. I couldn't see why they would call it that. You've got someone else inside your head twenty-four hours a day. Sure maybe they can help you cheat on tests by looking up answers for you and telling you while you do it but that's about it. Other than that they're just a nuisance and a distraction, a disgrace to society if you ask me.'

Dutchy couldn't stand this. He and Ego both knew what he was saying was a lie. They actually stayed out of each other's minds for most of the time. At night, however, both boys' minds tended to wander.

The entire room was joining in a chant now; one that degraded Dutchy and his friends. He'd heard it hundreds of times before, and it never hurt any less. Still he couldn't bring himself to hate Ego.

It was enough to wake him up. He was shaking badly and tears were rolling down his cheeks. He tried to get out of bed but only succeeded in falling to the carpet. He gripped his temples with his palms. 'Please, Ego, please, please stop.'

Everything faded away, but Dutchy still remained sitting on the floor shaking like a leaf. Pain like that did not fade so quickly.

1

­­­­­­­­­

School was passing slowly, again. Pete Hargis had advanced on De that morning in the halls, intent on causing enough damage that his friends would notice but the teachers would not. One of the very few reasons being short and lanky had its advantages. He'd easily weaved his way through, and disappeared into the sea of students. Stupid, fucking, mick he'd thought to himself as he sat in algebra now, twirling a pen around his fingers and droning out the teacher. If he concentrated hard enough she really did make the 'whawhawha' sound, like in Charlie Brown comics.

Dutchy was sitting next to him. The poor boy looked exhausted. His hair wasn't combed and his eyes were bloodshot, and as was typical of Dutchy he was grinding his teeth loudly.

De smacked Dutchy's arm lightly and gave him a look. Dutchy stopped and De went back to staring at his desk pondering if his notebook would make a comfortable pillow or not. Something in the back of his mind was whispering to him. He paid attention to that as Dutchy began grinding his teeth again.

1

'Well Mr. Trayer, what do you have to say for yourself?'

'Nothing, sir.'

'Mr. Trayer, these types of things are not appropriate for oral presentations to an entire class, let alone your speech for the upcoming student elections.'

'Hehee, he said oral' it was a thought, not actually spoken and Trick laughed.

'Do you find this funny?'

'Yes sir, in fact, I believe it is the perfect way to up student involvement. If we can promise them porn stars at Prom I'm sure they will be more than happy to help with the fundraising. If you hadn't yanked me off stage when you did I could have told the girls about the male strippers I planned to hire, but I guess you're sexist enough to leave them uninvolved. They do just belong at home in the kitchen and in the bedroom, right?'

'I don't want to see you at this school at all next week Mr. Trayer. But I would like to see you every Saturday for the next two months. Go to my office and wait. And tell the secretary to call your mother in. I'm certain she knows the drill by now.'

Trick walked away with a wide grin on his face.

'That probably wasn't the smartest thing to say to your principal, Trick, but I must admit, you've got balls.'

'You liked that huh?' Trick only then realized his 'other half' had been listening in. 'and really De, if you keep using all that sexual innuendo in your comments I'm going to start using it on you. Really I know you love my balls and all but-'

'Don't go any farther with that sentence Trick.'

'Oh, but you want me to… One-week suspension, two months Saturday detentions. Call my mom; I'll be in the principal's office… As I was saying, life is good.'

'Yeah, you'll think that when you're bored out of you mind next week when everyone else is at school.'

'Nope, Angela isn't leaving for college until the week after next.'

'Oh lovely.'

'And even if I do get bored with her I can always play visitor to your little mind.'

'No way, Trick. Last time you did that I told my aunt Satan was my homeboy. See that caused a bit of a problem because she's fucking religious.'

Trick laughed, 'I got a kick out of it.'

'I'm glad one of us did.'

The principal's door was opening and the two bid hasty goodbyes.

"Mr. Pelligrino, what is X equal to in question six?"

De groped for a number, "Two."

"Very good De. But please, pay attention."

1

Sunny pulled up a chair to the overcrowded table near the windows. "I hate math," she grumbled to Racetrack and Swinger, "What's up?"

"Oh, there's going to be a party tonight!" Racetrack shared.

"Okay," she agreed turning to fully face Swinger, "In normal English he means what?"

"We're all meeting up at Mouse's work today, that café place. Anyway, we're hanging out there until they close and then going over to the park for an hour or so. And knowing dear little Racie here, someone's going to get a bit smashed."

"Just peachy."

"Yeah," Mouse agreed, "He's a fruit, that one."

"Oh, ladies," Swifty came sliding in to the table, forcing a chair between Sunny and Swinger. "Are we plotting some trouble for the weekend yet?"

"We've been plotting since we heard the words back-to-school." Pie muttered walking past, hitting his friend upside the head.

"We've been plotting since summer started," Mouse countered.

"I've been plotting since freshman year," Race finished. "I swear, there is no more way I'm going to make it through two more years in this place." He shoved an oversized economics book across the table as if to emphasis his point.

"And yet you'll be up there giving a speech in two years because you're such a freaking smartass." Key's placed a tray on the table. "Honestly, you complain and gripe all day but you're the one taking senior AP courses your junior year."

"Shut up."

Swifty ignored the argument that was sure to arise between the two. "So what time do we need to get there?"

"Eight-thirty," Mouse shrugged, "It's just some local band performing tonight. Nothing big."

"Cool." He glanced at his watch. "Well, I need to be getting back to Chemistry."

"You're not in this lunch?" Sunny asked.

Swifty shrugged. "She'll barely notice I'm gone."

"Have fun in detention, Swifty." Swinger called after him as he left.

He barely waved over his shoulder to acknowledge her.

1

The Shattered Mirror was one of the few places in town where teenagers often hung out, but in a small town there were not even many options. During the day it was the place the starving artist types of adults stopped to get coffees, teas, and other assortments of drinks and snacks. At night, especially on weekends it was a social hangout.

Mouse had been steadily employed there since the day she turned fourteen. There was reason for that, her mother knew the owner. Other than that she had basically overruled his decisions and started advertising for live bands. That brought in even more business. Steady raises were not a bad thing either.

The lack of uniform was good too. There was another café on the street with its employees identical in their maroon shirts and black pants. Mouse was perfectly happy in a pair of faded blue jeans and an old fitted concert t-shirt.

Swinger led the herd of gifted students in through the back door that evening. The place wasn't quite to the level of crowded yet, but Stream, a local band made up of five high schoolers, was setting up. A full night was guaranteed. And Mouse was in the midst of them setting up an amp.

Orders were taken and Blake was the one to go up to the counter. Unfortunately since Mouse was helping the band, and most workers did not come in for another half hour there was only one person left behind the counter. A pale figure clothed completely in black stood near the cash register. Heavy eye makeup made her eyes look rather sunken, and her lips were too red to be their normal shade.

"What?" she snapped after he's been standing there for several seconds.

Blake rambled off the order, and when she did not move to make them he laid the list on the counter. He wasn't trying to be rude but school had not been great that day. "Do you mind, Alyse?"

"Yeah, I do."

Blake sighed; Alyse Valetin made everyone's lives difficult, especially people like his friends.

"Well, you're the one who took a job here. Part of that job includes taking orders from people and filling them."

"What, you think you're a badass all of a sudden?" Alyse questioned him. He'd had several classes with her the past year, before she had been expelled. None had been a pleasant experience. "If you've got some huge problem we can deal with this outside."

That was how it was. Anything and everything made her resort to violence. Blake ground his teeth and shoved the list into her hands. "Just fucking do it." Without waiting for a reply he walked back over to his friends.

He collapsed onto one of the mismatched couch cushions between Swinger and Dutchy. He liked using the nicknames. Swinger and Dutchy sounded much more casual than Lute and Alec. No one called him Cold though, Blake fit him better. He took a quick glance at Dutchy. They'd had two art classes together that day and Dutchy had seemed miserable during both of them. Which, in turn, had thrown off Blake's artistic groove. In all it had been a very unproductive day.

"What's up, Dutchy?" he asked.

Dutchy shrugged, "It's nothing."

"Dutchy- Darling," Blake revised, in the mood to cheer himself up, as he flung an arm dramatically around Dutchy's shoulder, "You were so down in art that it threw off my creative curve, thus making today a very unproductive day. So if you're going to ruin my chances of getting into a good art school you need to at least share with me the troubles of your youth or explain to my parents why I failed to get into art school." He made sure his voice was loud enough to catch the attention of the entire group.

They all laughed, and even Dutchy cracked a wide grin.

Dutchy shrugged, "I just had a really bad dream last night, is all."

Blake's laughing eyes dropped. They did not have dreams, they had visions. "Ego?"

Dutchy caught his eye. "Just another one of those anti-us things to get his dad elected governor, or mayor, or whatever."

"You gotta find a way to block that out, man." Blake patted Dutchy on the back as a reluctant Alyse followed Mouse over to them with trays full of drinks.

"This is going to be so awesome," Mouse chirped, landing a seat on the arm of a couch. "They were warming up an hour or so ago, and it was so great then, and they weren't even trying. Jon has a fucking hot voice." She waved to the singer as he tuned his guitar and he flashed a wide grin back.

"I thought you said you were done with musicians," Swinger snapped.

Mouse sighed, "I could never be done with guys like that. Really, you can't let good guys like him go to waste."

An argument ensued but ended as one of the band members started banging out a beat on his drum. Blake closed his eyes and leaned his head back over the couch, focusing. Interesting, Snoddy was out on his skateboard.

'Fall!' Blake yelled.

That was exactly what Snoddy did, sending Blake into mental giggles.

'Man, that was so not funny' Snoddy snapped, 'I coulda broken something.'

'Snoddy, you're on your driveway.'

'Hey, my cousin broke his arm skating on his driveway-'

'Yeah, going off a ramp! Your driveway isn't even a hill.'

Snoddy was sitting in the grass now, 'So that thing you were working on in art today was interesting.'

'Where were you that you had time to watch me?'

'Calculus, I only missed like half the notes. Seriously, where'd you come up with the idea?'

He was referring to the abstract piece Blake had been working on with a mixture of paints and charcoals. He'd skipped English, one of his few required courses to work on it.

'It was in a dream, well, you know what I mean. Is there graffiti somewhere in your town where you go a lot?'

'Yeah, the school, the skate-park, work, you name it.'

'That might be it. You were staring at it, ignoring me, all last week.'

'So what's up with you?' He was trying to change the subject, and Blake let him.

'You know anyone whose soul twin hates them.'

'I know people who hate gifted, but no, all my friends like theirs and vice versa. Why?'

'My friend Dutchy, we call his 'Ego' and I dunno, he's some politician's son and his dad's all against us being able to go to school with 'normal' kids. I mean, sometimes he actually talks to Dutchy, but a lot of the time he's horrible and makes Dutchy see these awful speeches his dad makes. Then all the next day Dutchy's a nervous wreck.'

'I don't know what to tell you. I don't know anyone with parents that hate us that much either. I mean, my dad hates that I'm gifted and treats me like shit sometimes, but doesn't try to change me or convince me I'm Satan or something. Can I talk to you more later? I've gotta go catch up with a few of the fellas.'

'Have fun.'

Blake came out of his gaze to find the band's set nearly done.

1

It was well past ten when they finally left the coffee shop. The band and crowds were long gone and the shop cleaned and locked for the night. The half dozen of them who had managed to secure licenses and cars over the summer drove the horde to the small park near the center of town. Pie, Itey, and De pulled a soccer ball out of pie Eater's "soccer mom-mobile" and began in an impromptu game of keep away.

Race was the last one to arrive, and he did so with a single bottle of some heavily watered down alcoholic drink in hand.

"Stephen wouldn't buy you anything, huh?" Swinger observed.

"Bite me." He managed in reply.

"Where?" Mouse responded with a grin.

"Why is it they always gang up on me?" Race asked, taking a seat on a picnic table.

"Because you make it easy for them." Hawk stole the drink and downed half of it before returning the bottle, "Not to say you don't deserve it though. I mean, sure, you have good grades, but you can't even get your own brother to buy you a six pack. Very sad."

"Someone should crack those two's heads together," Candy commented to Heels. "They're both idiots."

"Maybe one day they'll realize they're gay and finally see that they're perfect for one another," Heels agreed.

"Hehe," Race mocked.

In the moments that followed all that could be heard was Itey and De arguing over the soccer ball across the field.

"Well, this is quite the exciting Friday night isn't it," Hotshot murmured. "Wasn't something exciting supposed to happen at the park tonight? Ugh, why is this town so fucking boring?"

"At least it isn't snowing yet."

Everyone looked at Sunny like she had ten heads.

"Murphy's law. If it snows in the next week I'm going to murder you." Blake glared at her. He hated the cold.

Random chatter lasted for a good hour, along with a forced soccer game and a lot of yelling. It wasn't long until they were all tired from the week and climbing back into their cars to go home.

"Football game next Friday," Hotshot reminded Race and Swinger as they all piled into one car.

Swinger smiled, "Halftime."

"Ugh," Race grunted, "Practice."

The girls rolled their eyes.

1

A/N: I know, I know, the ending sucks. But I had most of the chapter written and I really wanted to get it posted. Plus, that really kind of sounds like some of my Friday nights. Anyway, I heart Blake, and Trick, and De in this chapter. I honestly do not know what came over me when I wrote the De and Trick interaction. But I have gotten good responses from those who have seen it. I need to write a Last Chance chapter before I update this again because I owe Shade and Sinhe. I also got kind of inspired as to where I want to go with both of these while I was on vacation a few weeks ago. Hope you enjoy the chapter. Sorry for the long time between updates. Senior year sucks. There is actually a very good chance this will not be updated until after my graduation, but for any 'Last Chance' readers, I have completely worked out that storyline, and am working on this one in my one easy class.

Leave me something you like or hate about the chapter.

Hotshot

4/8/05