Gerard gets pranked, and Jetta makes a descision.
During the entire ride to the school I was thinking about the past night. Jetta Rogette? It was like some kind of sick joke. After all of the shit she's done to me, the universe had to throw her into the air, only for me to be the one catching her?
But, I didn't have the heart not to catch her. Seeing that dude on top of her last night nearly made me kill him, my hands tightened on the steering wheel at the thought. And she'd looked so broken afterward. No sarcastic or rude comments came out of her mouth, she even encouraged me to continue the shouting I had been doing. I bit my lip in anxiety.
At least she was okay now, though her being at her house with that fucked-up mother of hers wasn't exactly a comforting thought. Her stomach had been nearly swollen to the point that she looked like she'd gained a couple pounds, plus the bruises had covered nearly every inch of skin. It made me want to gag at the sight of it. Even worse she nearly told me to mind my own business after I had pointed it out.
I shook my head, if she wanted to deal with it on her own, then it was her choice, I'd offered my house to her in case she needed it. I just hoped she took the offer instead of letting her mother go too far.
The school was on my left and I was jarred out of my thoughts. I turned into the parking lot and walked over to the doors. My art teacher, Mr. Tatts, had texted me to say that he wanted to put some of my paintings into a state art show. I was to come by and pick out three favorite ones and ship them to the district.
The doors were open and I walked to the classroom. The lights were on, Mr. Tatts was probably already here and waiting for me, I was a little late. I went through the door way, only to see that nearly the whole football team was in there, along with the head bitches of the cheerleading team. It was an ambush, I swung around to go out the door, only to find it blocked by Devon Clerance, the team's quarter-back. He looked like he could take around five of me, and there was no way I could outrun the others, even if I got past him.
I was trapped by the assholes of my life. Even worse, they were all silent until Stacey Drake, the blonde head-cheerleader walked up to me.
"Hey there freak.", she smiled at me sweetly, "Are you ready for the party to start?" I lowered my head and glared at her, I may not have the muscle against these guys, but I wasn't going down without a fight.
She pouted, "Oh, someone's not happy about his surprise-party! It's even better since you were stupid enough to actually believe that fake text we had sent you." I simmered silently, not giving her the satisfaction of responding. She just smiled and walked over to the counter that held all of the class's paints. She picked up a black oil-based paint tube, unscrewed it, walked back over and squeezed it's contents over my head. I bit my lip from saying anything.
"Seeing as you love the color black and all.", she giggled as it ran down my neck.
The dicks behind her would've came at me if I insulted her, and if I kept quiet, I usually just got the prank instead of the punches. So I stood there noiselessly, feeling the paint seep down my head and neck.
The pout on Stacey's face just turned into a frown and the whore nodded her head to me.
"Fine, this isn't even amusing anymore, just tie him up like we planned.", she smirked at me as the jocks tackled me to the ground. I grunted and one of them sucker-punched me in the gut, making me feel like I was going to throw up. Another gave me a punch to the face, missing my nose and eyes to my surprise, they usually had more aim.I started struggling kicking and punching anyone that I could. They pinned my hands behind my back, tying them with some of the hemp from the jewelry classroom. One of the fuckers held my ankles together as they did the same to my legs.
Then Jack Klick brought out a thick rope, the kind you use to tow something, and threw it over one of the many pipes above us. The school hadn't made a ceiling over the art room, just leaving it pipes and tubes, and now I was cursing them for not making one. He caught the end as it fell over one of the larger pipes, and started tying it to my already bound legs.
"You fucking skanks and pricks", I cursed, kicking my legs to make it harder for him. But in the end I was held upside down as they took out the paint tubs and started just squirting them at me. I'd insulted them and everything, but they paid no attention to my shouts, and just kept on pouring the paint on me.
One of them smacked me to make me shut up, "A faggot like you should know your place. Shut the fuck up and take it like a man!"
The cheerleaders had huddled in one corner and Stacey was the one directing them. It was then that I heard the sentence that made my blood boil.
"Where's Jetta?", the slut demanded, they all shrugged, "Damn it, I told her to be her this morning, and seriously, she's the one who planned this!"
Jetta had planned this to happen, my head froze in surprise. Then I fit it together in my mind. And I laughed at myself.
How stupid I must have made myself look. She was still the same damn cheerleader that had been the mastermind behind all of the incidents. Everytime I had been cornered like this, she had always been in the wings with her little smirk that told me, "I'm better than you, and you're paying for it". Just because I had helped her, didn't mean that she would all of a sudden be nice and give up on all of the idiotic stunts like this. And now I was having my help be thrown right back in my face. And it stung.
One of them smacked me in the head again, "Why the hell are you smiling, emo?". I glared at him and he just laughed his ass off.
After they had their fun, the cheerleaders left with most of the football team trailing like the fucking dogs they were. The last guy went over and untied the rope from the table they had used to hold me up. I closed my eyes and felt the crash that made stars appear in front of my eyes.
Immediately the blood rushed to my head and I sat up shakily, the starting of a headache coming on. I untied my hands and legs, it was hard to do, but I managed it. I stood up rubbing my wrists and walked to the door. My stomach was hurting from the punch, but I did't feel like throwing up anymore. The paint on me was starting to harden, and I didn't even care that I was trailing it through the room. I just wanted to go home, get a shower, go over to Frankie's and get wasted to drain all thoughts I had out of me.
I went back through the door and Jetta nearly ran into me.
I got to the school in my Blazer that we usually kept for just family trips and ran into the building. I followed the sounds of footsteps, and saw the entire football team, and all of the elite cheerleaders coming out of the art room.
I dunked behind the corner. I hadn't put any make-up on or even changed my clothes. There was no way I could let them see me like this without it looking suspicious. So I waited for them all to file out of the room.
I had made plans for this prank to go on and had completely forgotten about it. We were supposed to corner Gerard and cover him in paint, just your average 'make other's feel like shit' kinda thing. Now I was beating myself up on the inside for even thinking it up. How was I going to face Gerard now? After everything he did for me last night, and now I had him in there being covered in paint, he was probably going to hate me.
Before the last guy came out I heard a thud that sounded a little weird. He went down the hall with the rest of them, and I waited for him to go around the corner before rushing over to the door. And a painted Gerard came out looking tired and pissed. The entire paint stock must have been on him, the wave of chemicals burning my nose was incredible.
He saw me and scowled, "Made it just in time to see the show huh?".
"I'm so sorry Gerard, I came to try and stop them", I told him pleadingly. He just pushed my answer off and shoved past me.
"Bull-shit, by the way I hope you and your mother rot in that house of yours, along with the rest of those jackasses and dikes.", he shouted to me. I ran after him. I shouted at him for him to slow down, but he waved them off.
"Seriously Gerard, I didn't mean for this to happen, I just remembered this morning. I wouldn't have let them do this after last night!", I yelled at him. He flipped me off, but my shout must have gone through his mind because he turned around looking murderous.
"You planned this whole thing, just like the ones before.", he said, his voice was deathly calm, "Those 'friends' of yours were talking about your absence while they were pouring this shit on me. I can't deal with this shit, leave me alone Jetta!" He turned back and started walking back to the parking lot, slamming the door open to where the glass shuddered. I went through the door with him, hot on his heels.
"I didn't mean to do that Gerard", I shouted once again as he stepped into the Subaru, after getting a blanket from the back for the drivers seat. I ran up to the closed door. He rolled it down, and my hope flickered. Maybe he'd actually forgive me. Then it was crushed.
"About that offer I made you to come over if you need anything, consider it void.", he sneered at me. My mouth dropped and he pulled out. Leaving me alone in a parking lot with my car. I walked back to my Blazer, and got in and held in the tears that were threatening to overflow. Those stupid bimbos had just made the one person that I had actually connected to get pissed off at me and hate me. A wave of anger washed over me at the thought of Stacey, driving my tears away. She'd been the one stressing me, along with my mother. I couldn't tell my mother to drop dead, but I could tell Stacey.
I picked up my fallen phone that was on the seat next to me and sent a text to her. My mother wouldn't be proud, and I'd probably get shit for it in school. But I couldn't let them rule my life anymore.
I quit the squad, give my position to someone who's ready to deal with your shit.
[*hate ya, jetta
I smiled as I hit the send button. It was a change, but I had a feeling it was a change I would like.