Sample Confidentiality Clause For Contracts

School Hard


Title: School Hard


Author:


p_will




Beta:




harleen313




Characters / pairing:
Andy / Joe, Pete / Patrick + and any number of

Rating: PG13


Warnings: slash, AU Word Count: ~ 8500
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me and the events depicted are entirely fictional. Notes: Scritta per il Secret Santa '08 @
sottoilpalco (fu Bandomitalia). No, il titolo non è preso da un porno ma da una puntata di Buffy. Per:
eyes_of_venom

Richiesta: 'Una Andy/Joe AU in cui Andy è un professore e Joe un alunno'


Joe odiava la storia. Era un dato di fatto, una di quelle cose che tutti sapevano, che avrebbe potuto scriversi sulla carta d’identità tra i segni particolari. Era un assioma inconfutabile as "Patrick actually has them sewn hats in his head" and "Pete died if not at least send twenty-seven ungrammatical text messages a day, twenty-three of them to Patrick." Joe hated the story so much, but now and then. "It is normal that your eagerness to end the search history. "" I'm not raving. "" You blushed. "" Not true. "" Are you denying the obvious. "" ... Non-Stumph, thrown from a balcony. "Patrick looked pleased that it was only me want to take your damn hat and slide it into the nose. But as they were in the library and old harpy had already pointed them at the counter (have also had glasses that looked like bottle bottoms more than mini-bar to the suit, but had not spared the dirty looks at the top of Neurosis that brought Joe), he pretended nothing and went back to read the history of British colonialism. The ghignetto Patrick continued to press on the head without mercy.
"Do you realize that not only are you doing homework, not only of history, but they're actually doing on time? "
'Well, yes, mom wants my scalp if I take some F" muttered starting over the same paragraph that he read for half an hour. Since more or less, Patrick decided that his Joe poke future was more important than knowing how to solve logarithmic equation. "It has nothing to do Hurley" threw out Patrick. Joe essentially squeaked. And all the study hall gave him "shhh!" As one man. Patrick flattened on the table, sobbing quietly. "Stop making allegations! I discovered that I like British colonialism! "Growled, flushed as he answered the looks of death of the old library. Patrick grunted with his face hidden in her arms. "I like to read pages of human exploitation and face smothered in blood? "He chuckled some more '. Joe felt vaguely offended - hell, it was not an illiterate boor - and crossed his arms, chest, resentful. "The world is beautiful because it is diverse. "" Do you like having to memorize the routes which crossed each tub English in the last millennium? "" Yes "" Do you like Hurley? "" Very. "" ... "" ... Stumph, fuck you. With something hard and sandpaper. "While Patrick
rolled under the table Joe thought of a way to hide the body of his best friend. The fact was that Hurley was Hurley.
was simply stronger. Fresh fresh out of college, that rumor had been chased by a major private school in Chicago for having submitted to the Parents-Teachers Day with a piercing in the mouth and a Metallica T-shirt under his jacket. (Other rumors were that he was kicked out after having punched the principal for reasons not clear, it was over to another Wilmette because he had been banned from all schools in Wisconsin, where he had delivered all guinea pigs in secret laboratory sciences by closing the school for a week.)
was the teacher everyone wanted. Funny, funny, able to make it look vaguely interesting to the system of tax collection in France of the eighteenth century knew how to take a class but was not severe, sign exit permits without even reading them, and once had lost an entire class talking about the decline of American morals and in particular the system of shopping malls after a well-placed comment. just that Joe did not want him as a professor. And he did not know whether to be desperate or rejoice that, as an alternate, Hurley would be left alone until the end of year, until their teacher had not returned from maternity leave. He had barely
until June to go to be the eyes of the teacher, funny little boy who stutters always intervenes when a large piece of the brilliant son with whom infrattarsi in closets complete disregard for his young age. The thing, however, promise to be more difficult than expected, because Hurley seemed like a well ... morally intact.
He was just depressing thinking about what could be so harmful righteousness (no, actually he was leaned over the head of the front seats to see the prof who was writing on the board) when he landed on his desk a note folded carefully. You know H. made the argument about the slave trade? reads the calligraphy round of Patrick.
ears flushed in the area and launched the first look at the chair, terrified that Hurley had read the message with some phenomenal cosmic power, then a grim look over his shoulder at Patrick. How do you know scribbled, crumpled up and threw, hoping to catch him in the face.
New Ticket that struck my ear. Ashlee said, and Joe had to admit that there was something he did not know that the head cheerleader, then continued: "You only think about search. is reluctantly wrote off topic. Trohman you are a human case, it might make him worth enough to wrest an appointment Think about what would be four instead of being happy crap on human rights and on the white man that is ugly and bad.
Joe thought. When he got to imagine the ways in which Hurley might prove his approval - way more excited about ... an A + - decided it was better to postpone a more appropriate time certain fantasies. Not just when Hurley turned toward him and asked with gentle expression to read on page one hundred and twenty.
He likes my voice chuckled a little voice in the recesses of his head with trembling hands and leafed through the book, not at all helped by the sigh of Patrick on his left.

After a week, the only tangible result was that Joe knew a lot more than he would have never served in his life on the operation of merchant ships and diseases that we circulated over, a couple had found a rather strong that you She even went to look for some photos on the internet (with an outcome that was trying to forget, thanks).
Nothing new, however, on the front of Hurley. Nothing at all, except perhaps that now the Professor had no suspicion, it was sure to be in front of an autistic child. He continued to stutter, jam, trip, going up against the lockers every time he came within sight of Hurley. It did not go well! He had charmed with his speech sought! He had to enchant you with its sinuous movements! Had-
"You have to hand over the search. 'He looked hurt
Patrick for giving up his delusion of omnipotence. "It's early. "
" Exactly, "glanced at him over the edge by telling of his glasses. "Rather than covarla portagliela for three days now, so you can show him how much you viscerally interested in history. And of private tuition. Preliminary, you know. "
Interesting idea. There seemed no immediate drawbacks, and it was the beginning of the week that went with the file (lovingly bound and plastic) in your backpack ... was not too shameless, right?
"Go give him that blessed the search before the end of the lunch break! "Patrick snapped. Joe ran off more than anything else because he could not find a fork in my eye.
Hurley was in the staff room. He was sitting at the table under the window with Professor Smith and coach Iero to eat something from the air very green and very disturbing.
And Joe was not spying on, come on, he was not perched on the tree in the yard with a military cap and a pair of binoculars for see what had made the concoction in the pot of Hurley. Was watching quietly from a door already open. From the corridor. From behind the dashboard of the trophies. But it was not hiding, he had stopped there by chance and still had not noticed, here!
He took a deep breath and left.
... I mean, he thought of leaving. His legs were strangely reluctant to follow orders of his brain. He threw a dirty look to their unlaced shoes, who reciprocated with impunity, took another deep breath, count to ten, passing control of the glass board to have hair that looks something like a human and left, crushing the research in his hands .
The first time I entered the room for teachers who are not a punishment, and the trip had never been so difficult.
One step, another step forward, two taps on the door. He felt the hair mess by a mysterious breeze (no, looks better, is the fan) and all eyes rested on him. Intertwined with that of Hurley eyes, clear, deep, advanced security with open her mouth in a brilliant smile and twinkling of an eye after the floor was running the meeting.
is smashing with a thud left.
More than the pain to have virtually crumbled teeth, burning was the awareness that he had never made a worse figure of shit (not even that time kindergarten he had vomited on the birthday cake. His classmate) to risk him losing consciousness. He waited for long seconds, he went to wake up from nightmare or a fire alarm or anything, in the name of god. Instead, he raised his eyes from yellowish tiles, saw one of the few things that could make the situation more frightening.
"Everything okay? "Way asked wide-eyed worry.
Way could do his job. He was a good school counselor, serious, passionate, but it was ... well, half the student population was convinced that the true function of Way was to reassure the students that there was somebody crazier them.
Joe raised his eyes slowly, hoping strong strong strong illusion that one of the two would be gone. Way wore a belt buckle shaped like a bat, stuck behind the ear, a pencil than with feathers at the bottom. Fuchsia. Oh god ...
"Are you okay? Want to go to the infirmary? What are these? He began to make numbers with your fingers at supersonic speed.
"Gerard, the more you traumatize! "Trilled Iero, laughing shamelessly. The gym teachers are all assholes.
"It could have a stroke! "
'S-I'm fine ..." murmured Joe, but no one felt under the bickering of the two. Taking advantage no longer the center of attention crawled to the table where Hurley and Smith were still having lunch.
"Joe, did you hurt? He asked kindly Hurley.
Joe's mouth became suddenly dry as the Sahara and he nodded quickly. "I, uh, I wanted to deliver this. "She put the file wrinkled his nose.
"Are you in advance" the professor was surprised, however, take the lively research. The pastry is a bit ', slowly raising his eyebrows. "But ... I'm twenty pages. "
" The slave trade are a fascinating subject, "he said with conviction.
"You did an abstract. "
" Uh ... "
" I've never done an abstract, Joe, "Smith said flatly.
"You teach mathematics," interjected Ross, who trafficked her side with the coffee machine. Smith turned his expression vaguely irritated. "The fact remains. "
" Is that ... I fell in love, then ... "Joe said with a faint voice. Disaster. Disaster on all fronts, and no longer felt the nose. Then
Hurley smiled at him, only him, and leaned on her lap and the research said: "I'm glad you like it. If you are interested I can recommend a good book ... "
course book. A candlelight, perhaps, at home yours. Tonight, right?
"Fa-fantastic! And now it's, uh, later ... and I have to go. "The bell rang
, in an unexpected demonstration of luck that was convinced he had lost forever. Darted away again risking tripping on shoelaces, looking for Patrick, to beat him or engage him in a dance of joy.

But time passed and the merciless heat of mid-May bulging young minds engaged in powerful intellectual efforts and the patience to Patrick.
Ah no, that was enough for Joe.
Joe, in fact, was the victim of an inexorable transformation into a girl in heat. With emo tendencies. Sigh so much that the only reason that Patrick continued to be his classmate in history was that Joe had already become the first class. (Okay, also because he felt guilty to leave him alone for months after he had sipped his mind seems to Pete.)
Poor Joe had been sadly disappointed when the popular books that would advise Hurley had not revealed an intricate system blatantly confess all his ardent love of books ... but that was to advise. Manco loan, had given them to him in the library.
And, in hindsight, Hurley seemed reluctant to be alone with Joe. As Joe Shagged Me, and many also had noticed that the teacher tended to defilarsela to correct homework every time he approached Joe's no else around.
proven in the mind of Joe, this was not configured as "that poor man must stand alone five classes, will have to do," but it was clear evidence that Hurley had understood everything and was too polite to put down his advances idiots, so you kept at a safe distance.
further developed, the theory had evolved in "Hurley hates me."
Patrick had tried in vain to tell him that was not true, that he was paranoid and because the next time you do not choose a more normal, please? She tried and tried again and Joe was still staring at the ass undaunted Hurley (but should always be the man to write on the board, damn it?) And sigh.
Meanwhile, Patrick's nerves are coiled.

Pete had decided that Joe was not well. His
Pattycake was grumpy because Joe had decided that it was not worth being a person born without that their professor, and he did not like when his Pattycake was grumpy and kicked when he tried to scale back. Patrick was not sure why Joe was not feeling well, so Joe was nice.
"Pete, no. "
Pete gave no sign of having heard anything, or have noticed the presence of Patrick being angry. "Oh, come on. You can be both, is not healthy to be always locked in the house to suffer. "
" And how drunk Norwegian sailors as it would be healthy? "This time
Pete actually turned to Patrick. "Drunk and a universal cure. There is a reason why Norway is so rich and green and invented Ikea and its sailors are always happy. "
" Ikea is Swedish! "
" I'm sure that even the Swedish sailors do not fare badly, Tricky. "
" Pete, hey "called him Joe. "Pete, I do not drink. "
Pete stared at him blankly
" Wentz, are jew. "
'Oh my God, I'm sorry," muttered Pete, genuinely concerned. "You want to talk about it? "What he
Joe, for the record, was sinking into the depths of the earth and curl in on itself, going into hibernation until the next glaciation. Or, alternatively, to have five more years and do not be stupid kid that did not exist in the eyes of his professor. Nowhere in the list was to explain to Pete that Judaism, despite its name longish and difficult, it is the terminal phase of an incurable disease.
"So? "Pete urged.
Joe looked at him - an expression of childish insistence that it clashed with his clothes - and Patrick - the best friend you could receive, who was standing next to rather than slaps in spite of everything - and did some calculations.
Maybe he could find a place high enough in his list to drink. By putting the note in brackets "to stop being a clothespin on his balls and I listened to my friends."
"Okay, okay, let's go. "
Patrick looked at him as if he had gone mad - even without the 'how' - and Pete threw his arms in the air with a victorious cry. Upon entering the room

Pete out of sight under the onslaught of a horde of people, left to themselves. Good thing they wanted with him because he was lonely, eh. Joe and Patrick
cautiously approached the counter, getting used to the atmosphere, the lights shaky because of the smoke and pounding music. Did not have time to lay hands on the sticky shelf of the bar that a random guy popped out from nonsisabenedove identifies them as "hey, those who entered with Pete!" And without even time to say "guh?" They found a certain number of friendly patrons drunk more or less to tell the story of their lives and drinks on the house in her hands. Joe sniffed doubtfully, looking like CocaCola. Seemed. Patrick had already drained the thing and started laughing with her cheeks all red, and usually do not Coca had just that effect on Patrick. Sipped cautiously, finally concluding that stuff was something akin to Coca-Cola. Type, Coca correct. O rum with traces Coca hidden. It had also said to have fifteen years - the friends of Pete, as Pete, had not the slightest knowledge of how to deal with minors.
He threw down all at once. He went out just to stop thinking of that, so took the glass that were going through and then another and then another with something inside a beautiful color, all green and shiny, and then the stage lights were so pretty and shiny and Joe was drunk. Patrick, however, was funny. And perhaps he, too drunk, yes.
"Let's find Pete! "He exclaimed. Then he sat staring at the thick dense droplets slipping inside his glass. Joe did not understand the situation, but laughed however, because it seemed a thing to do.
"No, seriously, let us stand. I have to speak with a bath. ... Go to the bathroom. And talk with Pete. "
" in the bathroom? "
I do not know," said a pensive face. "I would not mind going to the bathroom with him. "Pete
not wait to carriers, thought Joe. He wanted it known to Patrick, so he opened his mouth and said anything, "Hurley no one ever came to the bathroom with me. "
Patrick - who has been drunk, but was able to recognize a whiny tone when he felt a - dragged him down from the stool of bad grace. "Up, up, I'll take you to the bathroom. "
" But I want to go Hurley ... "
Joe had never been in a bath more fun. That is, had never been in a bathroom with all quell'alcol in body, so it all seemed very funny anyway. Actually it was a rather banal and rather dirty bathroom, nicely covered with a wall of insults and phone numbers, Joe would be more than happy to expand their knowledge of profanity had he not had it too. His bladder was beginning to have its say on all quell'edonismo, here.
After having washed his hands and, for good measure, put his face under the tap, Joe felt a little 'more polished, all liquids were to be expelled in large part alcohol. He felt lucid enough to be able to take Patrick's arm and drag him away, "For Pete, and then back to the bar, which I am sadly unable to walk in a straight line! "Because too much lucidity was not what she planned for the evening.
Pete saw him behind an amplifier, after over half the local calling left and right if they had seen an idiot up more or less like a can and a sweatshirt with burning eyes, yes, Wentz, from what you understand ?
"Pete, hey! "Shouted Patrick. Pete, who was laughing with a couple of guys from the air unreliable, did not hear him at all. The meeting struggled, trying again and again, until Pete saw them and began to salute like a man possessed. "Boys, there's my baby! And his little friend. "
Joe was going to send him to fuck off very nicely when my friend Pete, to his shoulders without mesh, with long hair and a tattoo across his back that looked like a monstrous move in the uncertain light, he turned, still laughing. And the words died with a gurgling in his throat.
Hurley. Andrew John Hurley, 23 years on May 30 next, graduated with honors from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. (Because Joe was not a stalker, mind you.)
Hurley. Without mesh.
"Oddiocristo! Yelled Patrick, where alcohol loosens the tongue. Joe agreed.
Hurley stopped half-laughing, eyes wide. He stared at Patrick, Joe, Pete, Joe, Pete, Patrick, Pete, Pete and the void somewhere between the heads of Patrick and Joe.
"Trickster, all right? "
Pete was a dead man. Joe had to remember to hit him with a shovel just after the mystical trance, which is unfortunately still a long lay ahead. That is, he knew how old Hurley lost his first tooth and no one had told him that under his clothes had all that stuff?! Oh, he had to beat so many people ...
Meanwhile, Hurley was performing in a fair face symptoms of tetanus and Pete looked at them with a smile, unaware of the cabbage and Patrick was about to become the eyes falling out of their sockets. It was another friend of Pete - a tall as a lamp post wearing a combination of plush-shoes-chains began to fade in the Wentz - to expose the heart of the matter. "You know? "Joe felt worship
increasingly Hurley when he said, because he still felt able to open your mouth and shoot something immensely embarrassing. "... They are my students. Patrick and Joe. "
'Joe? "The lanky lit in a way that had nothing to do with all the gold around her neck. "Joseph Trohman? "
" Eh? "Keep on monosyllables was a wise move. And anyway, began to have some 'fear, not only because it came barely guy's armpit. How ...?
"Are you students? "Pete said putting a hand to her mouth upset.
understandable that Hurley had the face of someone who wants to hurt someone but much of the choice that does not know where to start. Pete approached casually digging his heel on the foot of the pole (which he swore something strange that had nothing to do with a cobra) and said through clenched teeth: "You will be surprised to know that some of us have jobs. "
" I work! "
" You rattle into the microphones while other people play, not a job, "said the guy.
"Parlatemene! Screamed Patrick sharper in tone than normal. Pete grabbed his arm too loud and always encouraged them to follow him to a secluded table and possibly much further.
Joe Hurley and were staring at their backs, which disappeared in the crowd. And then stayed a little longer 'to look around and fix that was not anywhere else ... at least the Hurley. Joe, a bit inhibited 'by alcohol a little' shock, he was enjoying this great piece of body art before him, at one point Hurley crossed his arms to his chest in a futile attempt to cover up and stared at Joe arms. There was a lot of ink to be fixed, and he could not but be happy.
"So ..." Hurley attacked uncertain. Joe made a superhuman effort for detaching his eyes from the clavicle and aim higher. "A fair wind? "
" Pete "Pete was the cause of all earthly ills, as a response was always good.
"Then his" Pattycake "Patrick was our ..." he looked vaguely point where they were gone the other with vague apprehension.
"You-er, her, as Pete knows? "He had wanted to know if you need to get the beating of Pete. Hurley
blushed. "Long story, nothing more ..." he tried to divert the conversation, but he met Joe's blue eyes wide with curiosity and gave way. "I played for a period with him. "
" Sounds? I mean, her. "
" battery. "
Oh, Joe was so in love.
"But you're not too young to be here? "
And so screwed.
"I'm sixteen years," he snapped indignantly. As if there was any need to remember it as if it were not actually too small to fit in that space.
Hurley, in fact, raised an eyebrow. "How much did you drink? "Joe
paled. The thing was turning into a slow descent into the nightmare and now could not be caught illegally or were too drunk to suspend it and in that case would have died because they would have skinned her alive. "Please do not send me home," he said.
For a moment he was convinced that Hurley would have sent him away to kick. I was studying with a straight face that he could not classify, and tried to pull off the most innocent face of his footage to make him a little 'pain. And then Hurley smiled for no reason. "Wait," Joe panicked when he saw him disappear behind the amp, but after a few seconds Hurley was back, with (unfortunately) and a shirt ... a pen. Maybe he was drunk.
"Give me your hand," he asked, and Joe broke up a little while mechanically executed the order. She could pull it off, at this point was happy just to hear the fingers that touched Hurley wrist, palm, and they huddled around her fingers. He was so happy that it took a bit 'to realize that Hurley was scribbling on. "Here," said satisfied, beholding the big black X that he had drawn on the back of the hand. "So not help you anymore 'and tousled hair.
Joe do not think I need to drink more to feel more drunk than that. He seemed to have broken down in the brain, mouth and legs soft kneaded, and probably the worst thing was that alcohol had nothing to do, she felt petrified, frozen, except for her cheeks burning and her hand, which was still close to that of Hurley.
He also noticed the professor and let go quickly, as if Scott really. "Come on, come on by others," he said flatly, avoiding making eye contact. Joe let himself be led meekly to the desk of Patrick, the butterflies in the stomach too numb to pay attention to anything other than Hurley's hand was not as light as a ghost that pressed between her shoulder blades.

His was probably the best post-hangover in history. Or the least worst, to be picky.
was still wrapped in a soft cloud of joy and warmth that relieve the headache, leaving him free to roll around in bed and relive the previous evening.
It was something surreal, something that even in its most daring flights of fancy had never even hoped to reach. Pete's friend, Gabe, was a totally crazy that he had insisted that Joe sat next to indoctrinate him into some cult, Joe was not much to feel, seeing the other side had Andy.
Andy, not Hurley, not his teacher. Andy, with whom he had spoken to school or research, but concerts and tour with the band of Pete and he had recommended CDs to listen to. Andy, before which he was finally able to be relaxed and talkative, it was the alcohol or the atmosphere diametrically opposite to that of a classroom. Andy, who had offered him a Coke (unedited. Yes, ok, 'is the gesture that counts) and had thrown a glass of water in the face of that Pete was trying to undermine Patrick (not that Pete after he had stopped, though).
Needless to say, coming home, albeit on foot, and with the cold weather, Joe had skipped indelibly printed with a demented smile on his face.
Needless to say, Andy's tattoos were finished right at the top of its materials from private reveries.
Needless to say, still on Monday morning issued a positive as to grit my teeth to all the poor ordinary people who were not exciting to start a new week. Type Patrick.
"I have no intention to be around when you sex "growled and watched with amazement met Joe crashed and fell silent turning red at the speed of light. Innuendo: a new move to keep in mind to shut down Joe.
"What Pete says? He asked just to think about anything else.
"Pete is stupid," he raised his eyes to heaven, with a hint of affection in his eyes but could not get away from Joe. "I asked him why there had ever said about Hurley, and you know what he answered? "Ah, but I could learn, continue to call him 'Professor Hurley'" Sometimes I wonder if he likes being beaten. "
was Joe's turn to raise an eyebrow allusive. Patrick stammered something angry and threw a punch to the shoulder, running away with the visor of his hat fell on his face while Joe chuckled and hurried to follow him and go to school.
Joe continued to shoot out his troublesome contentment, albeit with more regard for the mood to Patrick, all day, reaching a peak as the predicted time in history.
Hurley acted as if nothing had happened, questioned, corrected homework, lost twenty minutes to discuss whether the animal exploitation in agriculture was in any way comparable to slavery with a guy in the front row and ignored Joe and Patrick. At the sound of the bell was beginning to convince Joe have had a long and vivid hallucinations throughout the weekend.
Until, when they were about to leave the courtroom, Andy did not stop them.
"Hey, guys, I have to give something, 'rummaging' in his briefcase and pulled out a package finally purple fist in my eye crumpled. Joe gave him a puzzled. "Gabe told me to tell you that wants you at his home Saturday for my birthday surprise. "
" Her surprise party "Patrick repeated. Andy shrugged his shoulders, there was not much to explain when it came to those individuals.
Joe opened the package and found the design rather childish, but at least understandable, A map: there were a certain number of streets and a stylized house rather badly scribbled around with balloons, on the lower part of the paper was written "party time, bitchez!" and next is something that only after having established terrified for a while ', Joe saw a cobra. It seemed - um - far from it.
"These are the directions to get to Gabe, surprisingly you should understand something," while Andy was saying. He began to arrange the books on the chair with nervous gestures. "No worries, that is, there is no need to bring anything. But it would not hurt if you were there. "
" Of course, we will, thanks a lot, "said Patrick for Joe. Andy smiled and said hello Patrick's with one hand while the other drove Joe into the corridor and into their next class, because the friend had clearly entered into a catatonic state.
... unfortunately it was already half an hour later with his hands through his hair for the gift that I must make him an opportunity ommioddio!, But Patrick was a person who is contented moments of peace that life suited him.

"Scusascusascusa there we go! "
" God, what happened, do not find the cheats? "Patrick mumbled and set in motion.
Joe showed him the middle finger, without exaggeration, while fiddling with the radio. "I was getting ready ' explained smugly.
Patrick looked at him with one eye. He was dressed exactly like every day, with the same shoes and the same hairstyle. What Patrick did not know was that he had spent over an hour to turn the cabinet by reviewing any piece of cloth in his possession before deciding. "You're out ..." sang, turning to one of the intersections of the map of Gabe.
"Shut up or I'll let you listen to your precious jazz" threatened him happily. Mood was nothing short of fabulous.
"First, thank you that I do listen because you are ignorant. Second, you're on my car, and made me wait fifteen minutes in your driveway while you system locks, so you do not own the right to make complaints. Now stop smiling at passers-by and turn up the volume. "
Gabe came home without getting lost once (although at one point they had to pull over and understand the directions on the map), but found themselves getting out in front of a house very ordinary-looking and very festive. It was so normal that almost took a heart attack when he came home from behind the deafening noise of the amplifiers that were lit.
"I think it denounced" he began jovial Patrick just came in the back garden. Pete ran with shining eyes and a screwdriver in hand which gave him the air of psychotic murderer. "Trickster, you have not heard anything! "
" Funny, all the rest of the island felt very well ... "
" Where is everybody? "Asked Joe, pretending disinterest. Perhaps sported bad because Pete said with a ghignetto.
"Downstairs, of course. "
" below ", it turned out, was the basement. The basement
Gabe was the classic type of basement with a staircase with steps of those nasty stick together senior high, plastered walls, exposed pipes and a fucking dark corners where you expected to find some body - mouse . Maybe.
'Welcome my cave! "Gabe received them, emerging from the shadows behind the door with a plush purple and fluorescent arm possessively close to the waist of what was to be his girlfriend. "Oh, this is Bilvy. "
... yes, ok, ', forget it.
"William Beckett" warbled holding out a hand elegantly tapered. Joe shook default, slightly puzzled.
"So, you like it? "Asked Gabe.
"It's, well '... characteristic," said Patrick. "The tools of torture where they hold? "
" In the bedroom, "said William candid. Patrick began to move away slowly.
"Where keep the birthday instead? Asked (always with great disinterest) Joe.
"set apart to the kitchen to accommodate packages of potato chips," said - of course - the birthday boy. Joe gave a little groan inwardly for the tremendous timing and turned around. Andy was coming down the stairs, actually, his arms laden with bags of various junk. "But I would be dropped sooner if someone had bothered to tell me that you left" She smiled.
Joe smiled in return, the butterflies in his stomach began to flutter in compact formation, but before he could even say "Greetings" found himself dragged away by William Patrick in the mood for socializing, and while Andy was tackled by, of all, Way, who had just arrived along with a guy with glasses and expression flat. "Andy! I have to absolutely make you read this new comic that I found today! "He was saying excitedly Way while his companion (who, says William while dragging them around the room to know all the other people incredibly high, was the brother of Gerard who knew that Gabe had maybe yes maybe not having an affair with Pete. Patrick just took a dislike) Gabe waved.
And Andy was off-limits all the time. It was normal that everyone would want to hug him, kissing him and best wishes on his birthday, but Joe wanted to do it and every time he tried to approach the other was always surrounded by an impenetrable wall of people. Dangling a bit 'in turn, helped to place the amplifiers and lost a good half hour to look at all the available disks, he met with friends mad with Gabe and Travis talked at length with Patrick, giving a pat friend on the shoulder every time I saw his eyes, crossing the thin figure of Way less.
hoped to catch Andy before the cake but the candles were blown without a single moment that he found good. The first slice was splattered in the face by Andy Pete and Andy took revenge by putting the head of Pete in a mug of beer (although it was not clear how this could be a punishment) and Joe decided to distance themselves at the first signs of a gun battle - er, food.
She sat in the garden, blissfully alone, free to breathe deeply and close our eyes to the sound of the great battle in the basement. Then footsteps.
"Hello Andy opened his eyes and smiled and went toward him, with a strip of cream still on his cheek. Joe wanted to lick it instinctively, but blushed and lowered her eyes. "I think that Patrick has fallen in the battle, but Pete was going to revive it. "
" I hope not want to kill my passage home, "he chuckled nervously. He stopped when he sat next to Andy's, just stuck by his side on the large Saporta wall of the house. His heart was pounding and his side's arm tingled where he touched Andy, therefore, with reluctance, there was a little 'further. He did not want to risk it.
Andy looked at him with an inscrutable gaze for a moment. "Are you having fun? He asked. Now
-'-yes, "he said softly.
"I'm sorry that so ... well, 'so, I understand that maybe is not the kind of night you had planned,"
"No, really, it's all right," he turned to face him and smiled, and this not once lowered his eyes, even when Andy said the eyes and lenses of his spectacles seemed to sparkle fun. It was he who first turn to Joe and let go of that breath which had stuck in my throat, look at the profile, those cheeks for a moment he almost seemed to see was dyed red, the line of the neck and shoulders and those arms covered with ink, which goes by the t-shirt. The evenings of May in Illinois are sultry but he shivered suddenly.
And after Andy was running again, the shadow of a smile on his lips and eyes, this time, have fun. "I've done no gift? "
Damn I had said there was to look for something, now that figure shit untenable that we do-
But even if he had not drunk anything did not realize that she moved him and removed his glasses, and his brain was still cursing for anything while he stretched and pressed his lips to those of Andy. And that's it.
long enough for seconds that stretched forever until he collapsed around him - the kiss, his glasses, his hand resting on the wrist of Andy, Andy's lips began to open up beneath her and held my breath And- Hurley, his professor, fuck.
Fuck.
jumped up as if he had touched the bare wires of a guitar. He felt bad. He felt the breath and nausea stopped rising mercilessly along her throat, something he had tried even after that first hangover.
His glasses slipped from his fingers to the ground and almost walked over there, but Hurley said nothing. Property was simply petrified with eyebrows slightly furrowed and eyes absent. Slowly, as if they knew it, as if it were someone else to move, he touched his mouth, and Joe wanted desperately to die.
"I was joking .... "God, there was not even need to say so but Hurley was too serious, too precise, just too fucking himself to realize that for once it was better not say anything. And then finally met the eyes of Joe, and it was really, really painful.
stumbled to collect glasses - why then, was not even moving his feet - and tried to invent something, one of the incoherent babbling was so good to pull off in class, but could not take it even to keep his mouth open so damned slow slaps his hands and fled Travel . Street, somewhere toward the exit from the delirium.
crossed the party without recognizing one person or say hello, and found himself driving the car of Patrick with a few songs with no sense coming out the stereo. He tried to breathe and felt guilty for having stolen the car to his friend. But both Patrick
could count on Pete. He as to who now?

His mother only saw him the next morning. She entered the living room worried noise at that unusual hour on Sunday morning and had found her first child curled up on the couch in front of a TV on and blatantly ignored. He had not said a word, but it was placed in front of the couch, turned off the TV and set up his son with gentle firmness. One look was enough to escape because Joe would end under a ton of blankets on the bed of his parents, aspirin sizzling in the glass on the bedside table and his father, who grunted in the hallway for being kicked out of his bed at nine and a half are we kidding?
"It's bad," he had heard his mother's pithy, and it was true. He had taken cold running car with the windows down, past the sleepless night, skipped breakfast and oh, hey, kissed his teacher at his birthday party! He was very ill.
He threw a blanket over his head not to hear anything. The heat was unbearable under that mountain of cloth, but was fine, really. Better down there to choke that off.
When he heard the door open and close it shook the duvet on him stronger, earning his head under the pillow. His mother was a careful and insightful woman, and although he loved her passionately when he understood that something was wrong without saying anything, he knew that he would begin to ask questions at the least opportune moments. Because it was too perceptive.
The mattress is rolled down and Joe a bit 'deeper into its recess, ready to do his best to give the impression of having pneumonia rather than a broken heart.
His mother stroked his head just above the covers, floor, just to let him know she was there when I needed it. The guilt made him pull out his nose.
His mother smiled. "You need anything? "Joe shook his head slowly. "Okay, do you sleep. I'll bring you something when you wake up. "She gave him a kiss on the forehead and stood up.
He wanted to say thank you, ask her to stay, but had spent the night stand and she was so tired and he was already asleep when the bedroom door closed.

When he awoke he found Joe: orange juice (bah, doctors - you never do find something good when you're sick) on the bedside table, a ticket in the orange juice, saying that Patrick had called three times in total ten missed calls on phone from an unknown number, Pete, Gabe, but especially Patrick, a message warning that his memory was clogged and had to delete some sms.
drank the juice because he did not touch food for nearly twenty-four hours, then turned off the phone and threw it under the covers. He spent all afternoon in a state of half asleep, too exhausted to keep my eyes open but with your brain too full to let go, even if it was the only thing he wanted, at one point he heard his father enter the room to put a new glass on the bedside table, and then brush against his forehead in search of a fever that was not there. He pretended to be asleep - had not the strength to face her.
Unfortunately her mother was not of the same opinion. The
surprise as he emerged from the bathroom that night, pale with a rag and two bags under the eyes but not pity. "Are you going to skip school? "Her tone was gentle, but the pose of general steel with which he had placed in the center of the corridor it was not.
"Yes," murmured Joe. The very thought of entering the same building where he worked Hurley's An- made her want to turn around and kneel in front of the toilet bowl. The school was the source of all its problems, the vile institution that made it impossible to attend A-Hurley and the place where it all started.
His mother studied him with eyes reduced to slits. "Okay," he finally said, "but it will cover you even further. "
" I'm sick mother, do not you cover me "mumbled surpassing it to crawl into her room.
"Oh darling," sighed her mother. "I'm the cardiologist, I can recognize an ailing heart. "Joe
ignored it.

'Joe. Joooooe? ... Joy? "The young
Sam Trohman had to stoop to avoid a sock. "He's alive, I'll let` that Patrick went off on.
"Your brother is a saint. "He went into Joe's room and found himself facing a doomsday scenario or, to be precise, pseudo-hospital. The curtains drawn, the air stifling, a bottle of aspirin on the desk and poured a pile of blankets, which he identified as Joe with a grunt. "You are lost. "
" I do not want to go back to school "emerged from under the pile and rolled to the side to make room for Patrick. "I made a mess. "
" I know Joe bewildered glance explained: "When you're gone - stealing my car among other things, thanks alerting me so I spent half an hour to sclera - Andy has returned to the party with a face that, well, '... was not very happy to tell everything but Gabe does not need instruments of torture to make people talk. "
Joe groaned. "You know the whole state now, right? "
" No, "Patrick gave a satisfied smile. "We have hushed the thing. Pete has yet to recover. "
Joe did not even have the strength to ask what had happened to Pete. "I hate 'whimpered.
Patrick sighed. "You know what's the first thing he did? He asked me your number. "
" To warn me that I would have sued for ... for, like, harassment. "
Patrick had too much tact to remind him that if his own, he was a child and would end up behind bars Hurley. It was not there to throw it down, indeed. "Would you like to accompany me to the prom? "
There was a long silence. "Prom, you know? Bad music, the ugliest clothes, teenagers who they mate? He raised his eyes to heaven before the face of Joe Tuna. He knew that he'd forgotten.
"But ..." you took my face in his hands. "Where can I find a dress suitable hours?! "
" Ah ah ah "Patrick growled. "I need someone who took me because my mother took away the car from now until graduation. "
"And Anna? "Joe asked puzzled. The girl had given ample proof of his love for Patrick in all the lessons they had together.
Patrick made a face. "That crazy wants to rape me. "
" Even Pete. "
" So, you want to come or not? "Dry said.
"No not interested at all. He did not care anything about what he had to do with the school. "... And would like to pass the prom with me? "
Patrick blushed even more. "I do not want to go dancing with you! I promised the guys in the band to arrange the speakers and Brendon hit me if I give him the hole. "
" I will not come "turned to the wall.
Now he had had enough. "Trohman" he began, standing up to point a menacing finger toward the back of Joe "I'm not going to let you soak in your depression. After I left at a party full of crazy, me and stole the car, and failing to respond to one of my calls for two days, the least you can do is swipe the keys to take your car and take me to the damn ball ! "
" ... I dress. "Never

his hatred towards the school had been so visceral. The shimmering, glittering, with which it was horrifying decorations filled the gym for the occasion did not help. Ah, those projects had done for that dance! Crazy, impossible, but so many. And after all that had happened had even forgotten that fateful day had arrived.
Patrick was dodging the attacks of Brendon and joyful, including a pause and another, arranging the layout of the room, and he was all alone at a table on the track, dropped his head on folded arms. How disgusting dances.
Someone moved the chair beside him, but ignored him. He was there to make the driver, not to welcome the first arrivals in the mood for conversation. Then a hand rested on his shoulder, followed by a "Joe" he murmured, and jumped as far as possible.
Hurley looked at him with wounded expression. " I wanted to call you "tried.
"Nothing happened" Joe blurted out the words that are piled on each other in any way that does not match the speed of his heart went crazy, which was flown into the throat. "I'm wrong, I did not do it, it was a mistake, please do not hate me. "
Hurley's face was pale and beaten almost as much as his, and his smile stretched that you paint over it was just disturbing. "I think there was really a misunderstanding. "
" God, yes, "
" You go out with me? "
" ... I do not think you understand. "
could not have understood. Probably Hurley said "you want uscire di qui” o “vuoi uscire dalla mia vita” o “mi repelli, come posso non odiarti”.
Quindi probabilmente si stava alzando per prenderlo a pedate, e si stava avvicinando per prenderlo meglio a pedate, e gli stava prendendo il viso tra le mani perché forse preferiva una testata e lui non si stava muovendo perché si meritava di finire in ospedale, a soffrire su un letto asettico.
Quello che non si meritava, e che non si aspettava, e che era chiaramente un’allucinazione e a breve si sarebbe svegliato ancora sotto il suo cumulo di piumoni, era la barba di Andy che gli solleticava le guance.
Lo stava baciando a stampo.
In palestra, sotto la globosfera. Prima del ballo.
Joe era già in hospital and was in a coma, there was no explanation.
"The misunderstanding," said Andy kindly "was I believe you were indifferent. Why are my little indifferent, and I'd take you somewhere ... when I finish my substitute here, of course. "
" ... I do not think you understand. "
'IT Ammah! "Brendon yelled, and when everyone had begun to look at? Patrick hid her face in her hands.
"... I still do not understand. Give me some repetition? "
Andy laughed and hugged him tight. Their audience, in perfect agreement with the thoughts of Joe, made a romantic scene to the disappointment of failure.
But it was fine. Until the end of the school, would be well.