Running With Scissors

Chapter Four

I don't know why I felt bad, but I did. Initiations happened all the time. Hell, I'd done some of them myself. But having already met Gavin, already seen his bright, naive attitude, it made me feel the teensiest bit guilty.

Then, of course, I hated myself for showing emotion.

I was trailing behind Percy towards where the first floor boys toilets were when the tardy bell rang. Well, I was committed now- If I went to class now, I'd instantly get a detention. While I had nothing against sitting in a classroom for an hour after school while the teacher who was supposed to be watching myself and everyone else landed with a detention slip, I had better things to do. For once, I had plans.

Granted, those plans were nothing special. Percy, Tobey and I were having a powwow at the Tobe-ster's house, and were planning on eating and drinking heavily caffeinated and sugared things until we passed out, whilst watching a series of movies that happened to catch our interests. Tobey was pining for the Twilight series, while Percy was all for watching each and every Scream and Saw movie ever to be created ever ever ever in the history of the universe.

Her words, not mine.

It was sure to be a fun night, anyway, and I was looking forward to it. Tobey had the cool, awesome kind of parents that everyone wants, but no one except that one person gets. Tobey just happened to be 'that one person.' His mother's been helping him out with his relationships since seventh grade, and is perfectly happy fangirling with him over cute boys, both in magazines and in the real world. His father, meanwhile, has happily done the 'hurt my boy and you die' speech, usually coupled with a loaded rifle, to any and every boyfriend Tobey has ever brought home. See? They're awesome.

We can hear the laughter and harsh words, along with what sounds like fists hitting flesh, before we've even entered the bathroom. Percy slammed into the door leading to the mens' toilets with gusto, leaving me plenty of time to slip in after her before it shut.

What I was witnessing made me feel like turning around and punching a wall, or maybe one of the goons who were also occupying the small, rank room. Lining the wall directly opposite the door were five stalls, each wide-open. Two boys were standing in front of one of the stalls, with a smaller boy trapped between them, struggling.

At the sound of the door opening and shutting, the smaller boy, who I had easily deduced to be Gavin, turned to look at me, and I winced at the sight. Obviously, he had put up quite a fight, Judging from the bruises on his left cheekbone and forehead, and blood dribbling in a steady line from his nose. He should've been at the nurse, but instead, he was here. About to get his head shoved down a toilet.

He wasn't the only one to be distracted by our presence. There were five other people in the room, not counting Gavin, of course. Jim stood out the easiest-With his bright yellow jeans, fiery red hair, and manic smile, it would be hard to miss the slightly eccentric lad. He'd been a friend of Percy's since, apparently, preschool, and while I didn't know him that well, he's alright in my books.

Of course, my books state that being 'alright' simply means his head won't end up on a spear.

"Percy! Angel!" His cheerful tone sounds awkward ringing around the otherwise quiet, small room. I involuntarily shivered. Apparently, he was the only one happy to see us-Or at least, me. The other guys had no problem staring at Percy like she was nude, or a piece of meat. Whichever. If she noticed, she didn't make a comment.

"I thought you said they weren't coming." Barked the boy standing directly behind Jim, a jackass I knew personally as Joe Ross. Ugh. The fact that he was simply breathing the same air as I made me want to simultaneously gag, throw-up, and smash his face in. Just for starters. We've never gotten along very well, starting with kindergarten, when he stole my favorite box of crayons. The next day, I doused him with my water bottle, and the fight was on. It's evolved from utensil stealing to hair-pulling to punching in the gut and face. Thank goodness it's our Senior year-I don't know how much more violence either of us could have taken before we, I dunno, exploded or something.