FicWad

Andy looked over at Brian and smirked; they had been serving food to the Shermer High School student population for the last hour. It was only his second day on the job, but it was Brian's fifth. Initially, it was Brian's job for destroying his locker and serving food was his way for paying for it, but Andy had to get involved and now here he was standing in an apron and a hair net.

If that had been one month ago, Andrew definitely would not be impressed with his situation. If that was one month ago, Andrew would have been standing in Vernon's office pleading with the vice principal to let the star wrestler loose...for wrestling practice or something.

Brian smiled back at him in return; Andy thought that Brian was a good kid. He may get nervous or shy easily, and may prefer math questions over beer drinking, and science fairs over girlfriends, but Andy liked him. He had a good head on his shoulders and knew what he wanted to do with himself. The two boys had a lot in common where their overbearing parents were concerned, and the way they both competed to be the best - whether it was academically or physically was beside the point.

The two boys had met in detention. At first sight, Andy thought that the younger boy was too immature and geeky for his liking. His clothes looked like his mother had them laid out on the bed waiting for him that morning, and he had stated proudly that he was a member of the physics club...

And the math and Latin clubs.

Andrew couldn't think of anything geekier. After all, he had only taken part in wrestling meets, gym classes, weight lifting and pep rallies - things that strong, popular guys took part in; events where all the school's most beautiful girls came out to see them. He was pretty much the main event at school whereas Brian was at the bottom of the totem pole.

He would be the first person to admit how ignorant and arrogant it sounded. At the beginning of that Saturday detention that was the way he thought. But after a bout of insane dance moves - door breaking included - and marijuana smoking, they began to talk to each other and open up just a little bit more. The little bit more turned into Andy bawling his eyes out about his dad and weaknesses; confessing to the group - Brian included - his crimes committed against one Larry Lester, a boy from Brian's group.

Surprisingly to Andy, Brian didn't insult him, or accuse him or judge him based on his actions. He just listened silently about what it was he had to say. When Andy had finished, Brian took his turn and bawled about the way he hated himself, and they way his parents looked at him. He confessed the crime he was prepared to have taken part in, almost ending it all for himself.

Two totally different situations, two exact same sob stories.

Andy could not believe how much he had held in common with the younger brainiac. He had learned to respect the kid for who he was and what he put up with everyday. Not only what he put up with from his parents everyday, but what he put up with from people like him: big, mean, popular, and nasty.

That was why he had stepped up and stuck up for him three days ago in the cafeteria. He had been sitting at a table with some sports and a few girls. He was getting ready to dig into his sandwich - hadn't even taken a bite yet - when he saw one of the football players hassling him. He figured that the boy would tease him a bit and then be on his way.

But that was not the case.

The football player was extremely angry and looked as if he was ready to hop over the counter and strangle poor Brian. So Andy felt a bit of de-ja-vu at that exact moment; he wanted to prevent something from happening that could have traumatized Brian forever. Andy had known that look that the jock boy was giving Brian; it was almost identical to the one he had plastered on his face when he had attacked Larry.

... ... ...

The events from the night before had been swirling in his head. It was the first match of the season and he had faced Jason Townsend in the main event; Jason was about three inches taller than him, but a lot lankier. He had faced the taller boy before; last year in the state championships quarter final match up. Jason was a pretty solid wrestler, but he was not as dangerous on the ground as Andy was. Andy was quick - and volatile - he had people pinned beneath him before they could even figure out what had hit them.

The match up with Jason had lasted a little longer than expected. Andy's knee was dislocated four weeks prior to the match and he was still working on strengthening it. The knee was his only downfall this time, only taking a bit of his speed away from him.

He still managed to out grapple Jason, and finish him off with a side suplex. The match clocked in at 3:05. Andy's usual match time was 1:58.

To say that his dad had been unimpressed would be a complete understatement. His dad always watched everything he did with complete focus and concentration. His father had been a wrestler once in high school and college, but failed as a competitor when he shattered his ankle in a car accident. The old man had been driving around with some drunken college buddies and they wrapped themselves around a pole. The driver and front seat passenger had both died, and his friend next to him in the back seat lost complete use of his lower body; his dad, Tony, came out with a shattered tibia and fibula, along with a third degree concussion, whiplash, and a broken nose. He had been lucky to say the least.

Tony Clark never gave up on his wrestling dream. He still attended all of the school matches, and even made his dream come true with his second child, and first son, Andrew. Andrew was going to have all the dreams and success that Tony lost. Andrew was going to be even more successful than Tony had ever been.

That was what Tony told Andy day after day; that he was going to be the star the he had born and bred. Like a god damned machine - or clone - he was going to finish the old man's unfinished business.

At first the prospect of wrestling was exciting for Andrew. It was a sport that took extreme hand-eye coordination, speed, and agility. Wrestling was also a way to channel any pent up energy or aggression. Wrestling was, in a sense, the perfect sport for Andy.

Years passed and high school came around. Wrestling was not just a fun competition any more, wrestling was now everything; his ticket in life to strength, success - a scholarship. His father worked in a car part factory and his mother stayed at home with his younger sisters, and babysat part time for other working mothers. They were barely middle class and a scholarship was his only way to college; either that or years of working off student loans.

Every move and match Andy performed was under the microscope that was Tony's eyes. He would pin point every wrong move, spot, and formation. Any step out of the circle or pin fall on him would earn him extra hours in training.

He was the only kid on the team that had the coach's phone number on speed dial - at home.

Wrestling had quickly consumed his life. No longer had he been able to go out with his friends as much - only on weekends - and girlfriends were even harder to maintain. At seventeen years old friends and girlfriends were more important than life itself; what kind of girl would want to date a guy that 'preferred' to pump iron than take her out? Every girl was the same; he never had enough time for them.

Tony always told him he would find a better one anyways. Any girl that was worth it, he'd say, would stick around and let him put his needs first. He'd say that girls needed to be put in their place - second.

Of course Andrew didn't feel that way. He yearned for the freedom and friendships that the other kids had. He yearned for the life where he wasn't constantly criticized and hardened. He didn't want to be the mindless machine that his father wanted; he had wants and needs, and weaknesses.

Andy had snapped back into his surroundings and realized that he was still in the locker room. He was still sitting on the locker room bench half dressed and staring into his gym bag. His shoes were littered under his feet, yet to be put on and tied. His t-shirt sat to his left on the bench in a rolled up ball. The only thing sitting in his bag was his athletic tape; the only thing that kept his knee from giving.

His stupid knee was what started the whole dilemma last night at the match. His father did not like - at all - how long it had taken him to beat Townsend. He thought that Andrew's speed had stunk and that his suplex performed at the end of the match had been botched. He hated every little thing about his performance.

Andrew had told his father that his knee was bothering him again. He told him that he was working around it as much as he could, and that given a few more weeks he would be back in top shape.

"But you should be in top shape now, Andrew!" his father had bellowed. "You are letting petty weakness get to you! You're intensity is for shit!"

"But I won the match, dad! I won!"

His father had glared and clutched the steering wheel tighter. "You're damn lucky you did boy! I won't tolerate losers in this family! You will win! You will always win!"

He had let his father down again. He had put all of his effort into the fight and had even come out on top. But that wasn't good enough; he had let weakness get to him.

A locker door creaking open had pulled him from his thoughts. A few rows down was a boy from his gym class, Larry Lester. He was about as tall as Andy, but not as nearly as built. He was skinny, weak. He couldn't even bench press 65 pounds in the weight room. He always came in last in their running exercises. It was obvious he was only taking gym because it was a mandatory credit. One gym and you get your high school diploma.

Larry made him angry. Larry always came in last and Larry never lifted as much as the other boys did. Gym wasn't even a jock class, everyone had to take it. Larry couldn't even do as good in the class as the other kids who weren't jocks. Hell, Larry couldn't even tag someone out in dodge ball.

But Andy knew that it didn't bother Larry that much. Larry just had to get a grade and he was fine. Larry wasn't going to get punished by his father if he didn't get an A+ in gym. Larry wasn't going to be pushed until he threw up because his father didn't expect a mindless athlete out of him. Larry was weak and a loser. Larry didn't have to train day after day. Larry was nothing.

Andy was everything. Andy had to be strong and Andy had to be a winner. Andy wished that - just once - Larry had to endure what he did for being weak. That he had to take an endless beating to his body...that he had to shut off his emotions and be what everyone else expected him to be. Andy wanted to take that from him. Just for that split second he wanted that happy kid to feel all of the pain and humiliation that he felt everyday.

Andy stared at the smaller boy with his hate and rage building up. Larry must have noticed Andy sitting there...staring at him...while he changed. He could see a hint of embarrassment in his face as he stood there in his pathetic tighty whities.

Larry cleared his throat quietly. "That was a pretty tough gym class, huh?"

Andy narrowed his eyes. "All we did was play basketball, dork."

Larry chuckled nervously. "Well it sure was a lot of running..."

He didn't get to finish; Andy didn't want to hear the rest of his pathetic bullshit excuses. The boy was weak and if running back and fourth in a half size gym dribbling a basketball was hard for this boy then he had another thing coming. Andy lunged on the boy faster than he could figure out what had hit him.

His body had hit the gym bench hard, and he landed awkwardly on the floor. Andy could tell right away that he wasn't in the same weight class. He had to have been at least thirty-five pounds lighter - if not more - and a lot more fragile. The boy had screamed as soon as Andy made contact with him. He was sweating profusely and all of his body hair felt nasty against Andy's grasp.

Without thinking, he instantly pantsed the boy and laughed out loud. At least he knew he had more than just strength to prove he was more of a man than Larry was. He was smaller in more places than just his mass. Larry was pathetic. Larry was worthless.

Andy laughed once again and flipped the boy over so that he was face down on the floor and had one arm twisted behind his back. "What's wrong, Larry? Where is that intensity? It's shit...that's all! You loser!" Andy screamed at the wriggling boy in rage. He could think of nothing but his father screaming in his ear. When his father had him down on the ground and it was his hot, menacing breath tickling his ear. Now Larry was going to feel it; he was going to know exactly what it was like.

He grabbed his athletic tape and straddled the boy's hips backwards. He kicked and screamed, but with Andy's perseverance and training, Larry had no chance of freeing himself. The jock won.

He unraveled the sticky tape as fast as he could and began sticking it all over Lester's ass. At the time, he wasn't quite sure as to why he had chosen that particular body area but he did. There was hair everywhere and he knew that it was going to kill the pathetic boy when he had to peel it off. The sissy would probably cry.

He taped and taped and he hadn't noticed the jumbled mess of tape he had stuck on there until three sets of hands pulled him off. Larry was screaming and his face was a bright shade of red. Wet streaks were all over his face and drool was slipping down the side of his chin. Andy growled in satisfaction; he knew that pussy would cry.

"How does it fucking feel Larry?" He screamed in his face.

"Clark!" And instantly he was cut from his thoughts. He looked around and noticed a few boys and a teacher helping Larry - who looked like he was wearing a fucked up looking diaper - and his classmates standing around him. His friends were holding back laughs and silently cheering him, while others looked at him with shock, disapproval, and horror.

"Clark!" Came the deep and enraged voice; Andy actually felt scared. He was out of control.

"Get to Vernon's office now! What in the fuck did you do?" He looked at his gym teacher, he was seething. His face was almost purple and his eyes were wide. He stood menacingly with his arms flailing widely and a clipboard in his hand. His whistle bounced violently against his chest.

Andy just nodded his head and grabbed his gym bag. He felt sick to his stomach when a few of the guys slapped him on the back as they laughed on. Andy could not believe that he had lost control - more weakness.

He threw his gym bag strap over his shoulder and began to make his way out of the room. He pushed past all of the bodies that stood grouped in front of him. They all shared a variety of different masks, but each one was directed at him. A lot of them were negative, but what made him sick was that even more were in approval of what he had done, like he was a fucking martyr or something. He was no better than his old man.

He passed the row of lockers and noticed another group of bodies on the other side. He watched as three students and a teacher were pulling the tape off of Larry. What was left was not the healthy pink, hairy skin. But a scolding red and bald patch. Dozens of them. Larry was crying and almost screaming hysterically every time they touched him.

"Larry, I am going to call your father, son..." The teacher said gently.

"No...please...don't..." Larry cried between sobs. At that exact second Andy felt more horrible than he had in his entire life. He wanted to set himself on fire, or kill himself as gruesomely as possible.

The teacher shook his head in a confusing manner. "Son...you're gonna have to go home..."

Larry just cried harder and hid his face in his hands in humiliation. And for the only time in the last five years Andy had felt tears. He felt saddened and remorseful...he fucking hated himself.

... ... ...

"Andy!"

He shook out of his thoughts and looked at Brian; the first thing he noticed was the massive spoon he was wagging at him, and then the mess of gravy and potatoes on his apron. He had the goofiest grin on his face and it actually made Andy chuckle. "What were you saying?"

Brian rolled his eyes and flailed the spoon wildly again. "I asked you which Star Wars was the best? I still say Empire Strikes Back!"

Andy scoffed. "Jedi!"

Brian was about to retort when a voice broke them from their 'argument'. "Ahem?"

Andy turned around and looked at the short, older woman. She was awfully plump and had huge glasses. Andy cocked an eyebrow. "Uh...yeah?"

She glared. "I would like more potatoes please! Extra cheese and extra-extra gravy."

Andy turned to Brian with a confused look on his face. "What the hell is extra-extra?"

Brian shrugged. "It wasn't in the training manual..."

"Boys, please...I'm hungry right now and I really want to eat. Now."

Andy furrowed his eyebrows and scratched his head. He was about to retort when a laughing voice beat him to it. "It looks to me you have enough meat under yer shirt to last you a couple of months."

Brian snorted loudly and the lady just scoffed. "Excuse me young man, but I was in line first!" She had her hands on her hips and Andy couldn't help but stare at the large, hanging piece of flab under her chin that jiggled when she talked. He wasn't sure if it disgusted him or just straight up weirded him out.

"I don't see a line here actually...just you and the lunch ladies." The long haired boy retorted with a look of mock seriousness.

Brian dumped four ladles full of cheese and gravy onto the potatoes and handed them to her. She took them and stormed off in a huff without paying.

"Shoplifter!" Bender screamed and pointed at the fatter woman's retreating back, with one hand cupped over his mouth. He shook his head in disbelief. "Never get in between a fat girl and her lunch. Jeez." He looked up at the two boys with a look of anticipation.

Andy shook his head in confusion. "What?"

Bender rolled his eyes. "You guys ready to get the fuck outta here or what?"

Brian looked at Andy. "Please?"

Andy looked back at Brian and sighed. "You know they'll keep us here another couple of days..."

Brian shrugged and removed his hair net. "Oh well...another couple of days couldn't kill us..."

Bender and Brian stared at Andy like two little boys waiting for their father to push them on the swings. In a way it made Andy want to smack their heads together, but in a way made him want to laugh out loud. He shrugged and grabbed a fistful of semi-cold lasagna and a fistful of chocolate pudding. "Why the hell not."

John nodded in approval. "Sir, you won't be disappointed."