Death to Jocks! (open)

[Russell Cloy]

Russell hunkered down in his chair, twisting around in his chair to glower conspicuously at the table full of football players on the far side of the room. Attending Gould should have been fun and exciting! After all, Lucas was a student here, and for most people this would have meant more time goofing off with their significant other. But no, Lucas insisted on being stupid and closeted, which wouldn't have been quite so irritating if that hadn't also meant shameless flirting with other people -- Russ didn't care if they were girls and Lucas had no interest in them, because it was no secret that Lucas took all his relationships to the next level -- and mocking him.

"Stupid jocks," He mumbled, attempting to prod his fork into his ravioli but instead stabbing the table. He ignored the fact that both he and his older brother were members of the basketball team whenever expressing his anti-jock sentiments, and nevermind that some of the jocks were perfectly nice to him; bigotry was never rational, though at least he had a reason for his current attempts at imitating a basilisk: He'd had a run in with Lucas, who had, true to form, treated him like the scum of the earth in front of everyone. Russell had convinced himself that it was Lucas' status as a football player that resulted in this behaviour, rather than his overbearing father.

He turned to the person beside him, still poking ineffectually at the table. "They screen for jerkiness or something?" He sighed moodily; it was easier to ignore the reality of the situation when he wasn't forced to interact with Lucas in public. He wished Silver would go back to their own building, so he at least could fantasize to himself that Lucas would treat him decently if they attended the same school, a fantasy it was getting harder and harder to hold on to the longer Silver shared space with Gould.

"I wanna go back to Silver, why'd we gotta get infested by rats? And right after the fire and everything...."

[Mom Chatham]

Mom was always the one to lend an ear for who ever needed it at that moment. Things seems nice and quiet at the time until her Mom senses went off, somewhere close, someone was not happy with current situations.

Her eyes scoured over the lunchroom. The happy sounds were over powering but still she was focusing and sure enough sitting at a table, and looking like he wanted the football jocks to somehow to float away like toy balloons sat her person. So she did the thing she knew, she went over and sat down next to him.

"No, I think what they do is give an IQ test and if you score lower than a chimpanzee, then you make the team." She chuckled as she dished out her advice. "And personally I think you are way too smart for them," she paused. "I think a three year old is smarter than them." She gave a knowing look to him.

"You just need the right people to hang with." Her mind was at work already trying to put him in the right direction.

"Everything happens for a reason, there's nothing we can do to control it, other than sit back and enjoy the ride."

[Russell Cloy]

Rarely did people praise Russell's intellect. It wasn't that he was stupid but...oh, wait, yes it was. "Not all of 'em are stupid...." He protested as snippets of Lucas' poetry flashed through his mind; then he realized what he was saying and corrected himself quickly, "Oh, yeah, you're probably right. Stupid jocks."

Mom was probably right, as long as he didn't interact with them it wasn't a problem. And he had other people to talk to, like, well, her! Mom was nice, and funny, and nice. And also nice. And on occasion he spent time with Liz Davies, who was pretty cool (despite her inexplicable dislike of the eighties), and Wynn Sumner was pretty cool because he enjoyed the same sort of kitschy pop culture relics that Russ adored. The problem was, he had zero interest in making out with any of them. But now Mom was here, and while she should have been the perfect candidate to listen to his woes, he was supposed to be single, so he turned his attention to her.

"How's the play comin'?" He asked her, lifting his fork to his face -- and realizing that he had failed to stab any actual food. He actually kept his eyes on the ravioli this time as he aimed his fork, shoving the defeated pasta into his mouth as he glanced over at the girl.

[Mom Chatham]

"Oh sure there's a few that slip between the cracks but those are the ones that are too eager to please a family member by being on a rough barbaric team sport." She cocked her head slightly. "If you can even call it that."

Russell was cut but not in the teen idol sense. He had a boyish, impish look about him. He also loved the 80's, which in Mom's opinion, had the best music. Now what his opinion of her was, she wasn't sure.

She watched for a moment as he tried to eat which was turning into a battle which he was losing, until he was able to stab a good piece of the ravioli onto his fork.

"Rehearsals are going well, there's been no major injuries or deaths yet." She mused. Other people may have found it odd for someone to say that but there were even more odd stories that floated around the theater. "You know, if you wanted, you could be in the show, we still need some guys for the chorus. Don't let me sway you one way or the other though."

[Russell Cloy]

Russell chewed contemplatively. He knew very well that Lucas fell into the category Mom had so accurately described as too eager to please a family member by being on a rough barbaric team sport. "Yeah, I guess." He conceded at last, "They're doing somethig they don't like, though, for someone else, which makes them kind of dumb, too." As his own family life was nothing short of rosy, he had difficulty accepting that there could be situations in which it was physically safer to go along with parental wishes. No matter what he was told about other people's situations, he couldn't quite bring himself to believe the truth of the matter.

"That's....good, then," He narrowed his eyes at the girl suspiciously when she mentioned he could be part of the chorus. The chorus there hadn't been any deaths or major injuries in....yet. "If I'm the first death in this production, I am so coming back to haunt you." He warned, waving his fork at her emphatically. "But sure, I guess I gotta go talk to Ms. Griffith about it, huh? You sure she won't mind, rehearsals've already started, haven't they?"

He had never been in any of the drama productions before, but he got on okay with several of the theater students, so spending the afternoons rehearsing with them ought to be pretty fun. "I'm only considering 'cause I like you," He informed her, once again overreaching in his attempt to blindly find his tray. "Agh! Stupid tray, they shrunk these things, I swear they used to be bigger!" He groused, glaring at the tray as though it had personally insulted him. As soon as he had defeated the ravioli for the second round he returned his attention to Mom and her play, "Maybe I'll just show up after school today, you think anyone'll notice? Wait," He paused, trying to decide whether he wanted to be available in case Lucas wanted to meet up. But after the way the other boy had treated him, he wasn't so sure he was keen on that. "Never mind, I'll just show up, that's cool, right?"