FicWad

I grabbed my Les Paul and stared at my feet as a walked to the couch. I plopped down onto the old cushions and didn’t look up.
“Hey man you got some splaining to do.”
Juan, our guitar player, stood and looked directly at me. His arms were crossed over his chest impatiently.
“I got held up at school.”
“Oh ok then s’alrigh-”
“No it ain’t alright Juan what the hell you know damn well we’ve been waiting here for well over an hour. You coulda ditched detention or just cancelled practice today if you were gonna be such a wuss about it.”
“Lance I’m sorry dude I couldn’t help it I got stopped by Mr.F and Mr. Davis and Mr. Lucio when I was trying to pass English.”
“Pass English? Pass fricken English? Why should we have a boy write songs for us who can’t even pass damn freshman English?” Lance played a System of a down bass part loud and fast. Whatever, at least he ain’t taking it out on me.
“Haha what were you doing with Flowers pretty boy? Singing some show tunes?
Jimmy tried to imitate ballet (which didn’t work out well at all since Jimmy was a little chubby. Well, a little more than a little chubby.)
The guys all laughed and I could feel my face turning red. I held my cross in my clammy hands. I felt like crap. Maybe I got sick from standing in the rain. I strummed the intro of Your Eyes and left my Gibson on the couch. I needed some sleep. I heard Jimmy hit the snare and then the hihat to try to bust a joke… in a joke. I hated him right now. I headed upstairs without looking back on my band in hysterics.