Carl, a cheerleader, has been having a hard time at school.
The star football player, Ron, has been targeting him with his bullying lately.
But that doesn't stop Carl from having a crush on him.
Ron's mom died when he was born, and now he lives alon...
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Ron inhaled the smoke from his joint, trying to get the energy to go over to carls house. It was a fucking Saturday, and he had to deal with this shit? It was so fucked. Unfair, really.
Why in the world did he have to get Carl as a partner? The cutest boy in the world, of course. Wait, no. He was annoying. Right? Right.
Ron sat up, finally going to get ready for his probably-terrible day.
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Knock knock knock
Ron knocked on the door of the Grimes house, just wanting this over with.
The door opened, Rick on the other side. "Can I help you?" He asked, looking the boy who smelled of weed up and down. "I'm here to see Carl." Ron said, thinking it was rather unfortunate.
"Oh yeah. For the project. Come on in." Rick said, moving aside so he could enter the house. Ron stepped inside, surprised by what he saw. There was a group of men sat at the dining table, all staring him down.
"Well who's this?" The man in the leather jacket asked with a wide smile. "Ron." Ron said, annoyed already. "Ron." One of the men repeated, laughing. "Do you have a problem?" Ron asked, unhappy with his treatment.
"Nope." He replied, still smiling. "Leave him alone Merle." Another one said, cleaning a gun Ron had just noticed. "You here to see Carl?" The man with red hair asked.
"Sure." Ron said, hoping for the first time in his life the Carl would hurry up and show up. "Mhm. I see how it is. Time for some.. well, you know." He said, making kissing sounds to explain what he meant. "What? He's not my boyfriend. He's not even my friend. He's my fucking project partner." Ron said in anger at the accusations.
Rick came back around the corner, having gone to get Carl. "He'll be ready in a minute." He said to Ron, joining the others at the table. "Why don't you take a seat?" The man in the leather jacket asked, gesturing to the empty one.
"No." Ron said, staying by the door. "Come on. Carl takes forever to get ready." He said, wanting to get to know him better in that time. Ron sighed, placing himself in the empty chair. His arms were crossed, and the scent of the weed he had smoked earlier was obvious.
"I'm Negan. That's Abraham there. Merle, Daryl. And of course Rick and Shane." He said, introducing them finally.
Ron said nothing back, examining the tables contents. There was a deck of playing cards distributed to each of the men, and, most concerning, a few guns sat out.
"You ever seen one? A real one?" Rick asked, picking up one of the guns. The look of surprise and discomfort on Ron's face had already answered the question.
