Square

Chapter 6: Don't Care

Randy heard a noise and looked up to see the hall monitor walk back into the room to put the phone down, followed by the principal, a large, stern, man. He was balding, and wore a slightly shabby grey suit, and a fearsome look on his face. It was angry, disapproving, but in his eye was a glint that was scarier than the punishment the greaser was sure was to come. He knew, in that moment, that this was how he looked to his many victims.

If Randy had been a nicer boy, a boy with a healthy amount of shame, perhaps he would have been afraid. He would have given up his dignity, would have attempted to defend himself with half-truths, pinning the blame on his friends or even on Eugene himself. He would have blubbered and sucked up and submitted.

But he didn't. Despite knowing that it spelled trouble for him, he looked the man, who did not intimidate him, straight in the eye. He met the gaze of the man who held his future in his sweaty, ink-stainéd hands. It was like pouring hard liquor on an already-roaring bonfire, which Randy had done once last year, at a party, before booking it to his car.

He could see the flickering orange glow from the fire as it leaped two meters in the air (with a whoompf that made his stomach drop) in the reflection of his rear-view mirror as he floored it, laughing and whooping with the rest of the Pack piled in the back seat, and his arm tight around his girl of the week.

But there was no car to run to, to drive away in, to avoid getting burnt when the situation got too hot to handle. So, he just sat there, in that damned chair, staring at the principal's forehead, watching a singular angry red vein bulge painfully from his shiny, bright pink skin. He was saying something.

"-Are going to the hospital with this poor boy. You are going to watch him get stitches, you are going to stay next to him until he wakes up. And you will not bring any distractions with you, you will watch over him as if he's your best friend. You will- you will-" the man spluttered, tripping over his words in his rage.

"Doesn't your class have that science project? This boy is your new partner! You will not leave Eugene's side, you hear? You hear!?" The principal was practically shouting now.

Randy gritted his teeth and squeezed the arms of his chair as he slid back in it. He was sure that his heart had dropped all the way down to his balls. He was expected to spend time with this square?

Didn't he know that he had better things to do? These were his golden years! After this, it was downhill. Randy knew, in his heart, that after high school, it was over for him. He'd be working at a gas station for the rest of his life, or flipping burgers at the diner, regretting being alive.

"-Delinquents like you need to get some sense pounded into them! This act of degeneracy has the potential to damage the good reputation of Trefoil high! My school! I will speak to your parents about this, I swear it. Your days of partying all night and sleeping through the day are over, mister! You hear that? Over!"

With that last outburst, the principal stomped out of the room to call his parents. The hall monitor told him to help the nurse get Eugene into her car, so that he could be driven to the hospital. Randy's stomach did a somersault as he picked him up once again, but he forced himself not to register it. Instead, he thought of his parents. He didn't detest them, but they seemed to hate him. They preferred his sister, who was obedient and dumb. She did whatever they told her to. She never went out partying, or dressed like the other girls. Long skirts and modest makeup. She was going to live a long life, marry some Clyde, and settle down with two kids.

He slammed the car door as he sat down in the shotgun seat, earning him a satisfyingly murderous look from the hall monitor.

His parents never believed in him, ever since he was small. He made trouble in school and never understood his classes, and struggled through all his courses until he finally gave up. He drank, smoked, and partied since he was fourteen. Not as if he had any chance in life anyways, so why not enjoy his youth before it faded away?

They pulled into the hospital parking lot, and two men came out of the hospital and lifted Eugene out of the back seat. He and the hall monitor followed him, and soon he was sitting down next to the bed, watching a doctor bandage up the head of the boy he hurt in the first place. The hall monitor was speaking to Eugene's parents, two rich but boring-looking people, who continuously shot him looks of anger, disbelief, but worse and most perplexingly, pity. They did not look at Eugene.

They moved the conversation out into the hall, and once again, Randy and Eugene were alone together.

Eugene stirred, and opened his eyes.