High School Dream ~ Youtuber Fanfiction ~

Chapter 3

CORY JUMPED UP, YELLING AND SCREAMING AS LOUD AS HE COULD WITHOUT RIPPING HIS THROAT INTO PIECES. Beutoy [ b-you-toy ] High had scored the first touchdown of the game, putting them in the lead.

Adam, of course, stood in the end zone, holding the football up high proudly.

Cory sat back down, smiling and clapping as the game continued on and the cheerleaders provided support.

He could see Jess from his spot on the bleachers. The cheerleading captain's hair was up in a ponytail, red and white (the colors of Beutoy) ribbons decorating the black strands.

Cory couldn't find Shelby, for some reason. She never mentioned attending the game in the first place, so he wasn't too worried about her.

As for Nick, he was sat beside him, clapping.

Cory tapped his fingers on the bench in anticipation, waiting for the next point to be scored.

"Hey, look," Cory heard someone whisper loudly. "It's Crater."

"I heard that's what he's going to turn this school into when he finally brings that dynamite he's been stashing up," someone else whispered back.

"I heard that he got kicked out of his first middle school because he went on a killing spree, but when the police came, they couldn't find any evidence to put him in jail," another fake-sounding girl hissed.

"Jail? More like an asylum," the first girl scoffed, smacking her lips as if she was chewing something, most likely gum.

"Can you shut up? We're trying to watch the game here!" Nick snapped, venom laced in his tone as he turned around to glare at the girls, whose faces strongly resembled a plastic Barbie doll of Taylor Swift.

"Um, why are you trying to watch it next to him?" one of the girls, her lips a bright, bold pink, asked. "He might take out that knife of his and stab you."

"Or he'll try to sell you that weed that he smokes every night," another girl said, tossing her long, blond hair over her shoulder.

"Or he'll try to get you to join that Satan worshipping club of his," the last girl warned, her blue eyes, the lashes longer than humanly possible and lids coated with blue powder, wide and staring fearfully at Cory.

"Or he'll just tell you to 'shut up' and leave him alone, and actually get a life." Nick rolled his eyes, standing up. "Come on, Cory, let's go sit somewhere else."

Cory complied, shooting a glare at the gossipers, who, despite their previous tone, glared back. Cory joined Nick as he walked off the bleachers, leaving the game.

"Um, Nick, why are you leaving? The game's not over yet," Cory pointed out.

"But I can't stand those people that just stereotype people without even getting to know them!" Nick complained. "It's rude, it's wrong, and it's completely unfair on their victim."

"Don't worry about it, Nick." Cory waved it off with a shrug. "To be completely honest with you, I couldn't care less about those plastic bags."

"But-"

"If you don't stop worrying, I'll take out my knife and stab you."

"Cory!" Nick shouted. "I'm trying to help you!"

"And I'm trying to say that I don't need help," Cory argued. "I'm perfectly fine."

Nick stopped walking suddenly as they were about to walk off the grass of the field and onto the pavement of the parking lot. He seemed to be looking suspiciously at something under the bleachers. Suddenly, his cheeks flushed and he quickly looked the other way, grabbing Cory's wrist and dragging him towards the parking lot.

"Wha- Nick, what are you-"

"Shh!" Nick put a finger to his lips, shushing Cory.

"But why-"

"SHH!" Nick dragged him farther away from the field, looking both ways before crossing the street.

Cory wrenched his arm from Nick's grasp. "Seriously, Nick, what was all that about?"

Nick rolled his eyes as if he hadn't done anything out-of-the-ordinary. "Come on, Cory, ever heard of 'privacy'?"

"Privacy? Of course I've heard of privacy, but you're acting weird. What did you see under the bleachers that made you do all of," Cory gestured to the distant football field, "that?"'

Nick's voice lowered to a whisper. "Well, how would you react if you saw two of your classmates kissing?"

"I would do the opposite of what you did," Cory said. "I would walk up to them and demand for details."

"Why are you so rude?" Nick said teasingly, punching Cory's arm surprisingly hard.

Cory rubbed the spot where Nick punched him. "Same reason why you're so stubborn."

Nick paused. "Touché."

"Hey, look! Isn't that the guy people say has plans to blow up the school with his stash of dynamite?" a stranger on the opposite side of the road (who probably attended the same school as Nick and Cory) said not-too-quietly to his friend.

"Didn't he like, murder his friends and family and get involved in drugs and stuff?" the stranger's friend asked, not seeming to notice Cory hearing every word of their conversation.

Cory opened his mouth to speak up, when one of them said: "Didn't he drug Shelby Grace and trick her into thinking she liked him?"

That struck a chord deep inside Cory. Fury ignited inside of him as he clenched his fists and grit his teeth.

Nick pushed Cory forward, in the opposite direction of the strangers, forcing Cory to walk away. Cory exhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing heart. He heard a shout of pain somewhere behind him. He whirled around, only to see Nick glaring furiously at the two strangers, one of whom was rubbing the back of his head.

The stranger glared back at Nick. "What was that for?"

"You know very well what it was for!" Nick snapped. "For accusing someone of such horrible things! For spreading rumors and potentially ruining someone's life!"

"But why did you have to throw a rock at my head?"

Wow, Cory thought as he silently watched the stranger's eyes flick every once and awhile to him. I've been underestimating Nick's aim for a long time.

Nick marched away from the strangers, grabbing Cory's arm (sore from when Nick dragged him away from the football game) and forcing him to leave with him.

They walked away in a very awkward silence, before Nick spoke up.

"You know, I was aiming for his weenis."