Three Cheers for Sweethearts [Frerard AU]

PART II: Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7 – DISENCHANTED

Ray and I left the field in complete silence, neither of us sure what kind of a conversation we wanted to start. Talk about why it was justified? Laugh about Hunter's reaction? Complain about Mr. O? Worry if Frank would live to see tomorrow? We picked none of the above.

Ray drove me home, where we finally filled the silence with small talk about homework and classes so it wouldn't be horribly awkward. We both knew we were avoiding the only topic we could think about, and the mutual we aren't talking about this was enough.

Neither of us heard from Frank for the rest of the weekend. We filled Mikey in on where we'd been, and collectively we concluded that Mr. O had murdered the both of them. That of course lead to us trying to figure out what we'd do for our project in Theatre, now that we had one less group member.

When Monday came, Ray and I got to the Chemistry room a few minutes early, before the bell rang. Frank was already there, and as I walked by I gave him an inquiring look, but he didn't look at me to see it. Classes were all the same as usual, but when I got to lunch, I finally had the opportunity to ask.

"Hi," he said when I sat down.

"So... what did Mr. O do to you?" I asked Frank. Ray perked up to hear his answer.

Frank smirked. "Well," he said, in a way like he was beginning a long speech. "Mr. O brought us in to the office, and then literally all he said was," – Frank lowered his voice in an attempted impression - "'We will talk about this on Monday.'"

We all laughed. "And did you?" Ray asked.

"Yeah, he pulled us both out of second period and tried to figure out why we went and attacked Hunter. I told him... well, I told him I had the idea to get revenge since he was the one who broke your nose." Frank glanced at me briefly.

I stared at him. "We don't know that! Why would yo-"

"We do know that. At least, we do now. Hunter didn't deny a thing. His whole argument was 'Nah, I wasn't playing the mascot on Friday, so whoever tripped him was definitely not me.'"

Ray almost choked on his food when we laughed even harder. A quick glance at Mikey told me even he was enjoying listening – there was a crack of a smile on his face.

"So the best part," Frank said in between his own breaths of laughter, "is that he didn't deny that he tripped you at all-"

"I knew it!" Ray interrupted, laughing.

"-and all Mr. O had to do was look up on the computer to see who it was on Friday."

Once we started laughing, we couldn't stop. "What an idiot," I threw in between breaths.

"He didn't even try to say it was an accident?" Ray asked.

"Nah, just insisted the computer had it wrong. But anyone could lobby that they weren't the mascot that day. Plus, why would he have been at practice as the mascot otherwise?" Frank pointed out. "Hunter can be so dumb."

Out the corner of my eye, I could see Hunter a few tables away. He was moping over his food with a gloomy, self-pitying expression, chin jutted out and resting on his left palm. He looked so... bored. He had that whole too-cool-for-school stereotypical air about him at that moment. It was almost comical.

We went our separate ways when the bell rang, Frank heading straight to History while I turned to go to my locker first. The bell rang again to indicate the beginning of fifth period and the end of my social interaction with anyone for the day.

I went through school as usual for the next week: talked to next to no one (aside from lunch), sat through classes not giving a crap and no one talking to me any more than I talked to them. The highlight of my week was getting that load of plaster off of my nose on Tuesday, and Hunter finally shutting up about it. He hadn't let it go since it showed up, even though we both knew it was his fault that it was there in the first place... Maybe that's why he had liked laughing at it so much; since it was his very own handiwork. Whatever. By telling myself I was getting the plaster off tomorrow every day, I got through it alright.

It was interesting, though, that Frank wasn't really talking to me in class.

Well, I shouldn't say wasn't really talking to me, because I mean he didn't talk to me. At all. Anyone who didn't see the two of us at lunch would probably assume we'd never met.

Again, it's not like I was complaining. I liked not being best friends right from the start. But it was almost a two-faced thing, for lack of a better word to describe it – either we were laughing and talking like good friends, or we were complete strangers.

That was about to change.

Theatre class. Wednesday.