Face the Curtain with a Bow

Two - Routine

- It's not just booze, though. Whenever most of them aren't in school or at practice/weight training, they're getting high. They're always talking about weed, 24/7. A few of them will even skip lunch to smoke out by the gym entrance. We can't even hang out in someone's basement without somebody breaking out their pipe.

Scott scrolled through his Facebook news feed, Todd's laugher and the blare of Call of Duty gunfire providing the typical Friday night background music. Todd sucked at COD, but he was team captain and it was his house, so whatever. They'd been chilling in Todd's basement with a few other guys from the team, all taking turns being the first-person shooter and eating junk food, but now everyone was bored. Todd had been playing solo for maybe ten minutes, with everyone else either watching him play or looking at their phones.

"So what did you guys think of Weisenberg's test from yesterday?" Tristan asked from across the couch.

"Fuckin' aced it, dude," Jake declared, popping a Dorito in his mouth. "And I didn't even study."

Chris shrugged. "I thought it was okay. But whenever I think I ace a test, I always end up failing it."

"That's 'cause you're a dumbass," Matt joked, yelping when Chris smacked him on the arm.

Tristan laughed, then turned to Scott. "Scott, what'd you think?"

He raised an eyebrow, looking up from his phone. "I thought it was pretty easy. But I studied a lot. Not everyone can be at Jake's level of genius."

"You're damn right," Jake agreed. "Y'all can use a few lessons from me."

"About what? How to pick up girls with a face that looks like an anus?"

Jake snorted, crumpling the empty chip bag and flicking it at Todd. "Watch it, Anderson. I'll kick your ass."

"Whatever you say. But don't let your grandma steal your thunder when you bring her along to help you out," Todd shot back with a shit-eating grin just as he got shot in the game. "Damn it. This controller sucks."

Scott smirked. "Kind of like you. But at least the controller doesn't do it for free."

- Sometimes I time them in my head; how long can they go just talking and hanging out and playing video games before they have to start getting high to revive the dead conversations?

"Okay, enough with the stand-up comedy, asswipes," Jake snapped before Todd could go off on Scott, reaching into an inner pocket of his backpack. "Your mom's not home, right?" he asked Todd.

"Nope. She won't be home for a while," he said, quitting the game and putting the controller down. "Who'd you get it from? Karsten Eilertsen?"

"Nah, Brendan Corey. Karsten's my regular guy, but I couldn't get a hold of him this weekend," Jake replied, pulling out a blue and green pipe and a small Ziploc bag with weed in it. "Who's first? Scott?" he offered jokingly, and everyone laughed. Scott gave a close-lipped smile but said nothing as Todd began loading up the bowl.

Scott looked at his watch. It had been 45 minutes.

- I learned to get used to it at first, because hey, it's their lives, not mine. But after a while, it just gets annoying. Can't you people find something better to do? But whatever.

After fifteen minutes of bathing in second-hand smoke and listening to their increasingly stupid conversation, Scott was getting pretty bored. Occasionally he would tune in to whatever they were talking about, and at one point he even recorded a particularly interesting commentary about how weird it was that people sit in hot tubs like lobsters being boiled (he didn't even want to ask).

Jeremy took a hit from the pipe and checked his phone, bursting out laughing after a couple seconds.

"What is it?" Scott asked.

"I got a friend request from Kirstie Maldonado."

They all snickered, but Scott kept silent. He knew Kirstie from a while ago when he used to do choir in middle school. She was always really nice to him, and sometimes they messaged on Facebook.

"Kirstie Maldonado?" Jake guffawed, grabbing the pipe from Jeremy and flicking his lighter. "She's hot as fuck, but she hangs out with all the choir nerds. I guess that means there's no competition for me, right?"

There were some noises of agreement among them, and Jeremy nodded. "None at all, dude. But yeah, she has great tits. Like, I guess I'd fuck her, but then I'd deny everything the next day, you know?"

"'Atta boy," Matt said, taking a hit after Jake was done and trying (but failing) to blow a smoke ring.

"So are you gonna accept it?" asked Chris.

Jeremy nodded after a moment with a half-smile. "Yeah. Why the hell not? I'll get her Snapchat too, while I'm at it. See if I can't get her to send me a little something-something."

Scott rolled his eyes. Jeremy was cool, but he didn't deserve Kirstie.

- The truth is that I don't really care what they do. It's not my place to judge. It just kind of sucks because I never said a thing about all the partying they do, so why should they bust my balls for all the partying I don't do?

"Hey Scotty-Boy, remember when you used to be a choir nerd?" Todd said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Scott just laughed quietly and shrugged, blaming it on the weed. "Yeah, I was in choir in 6th grade."

Jake snorted. "Thank God you got out of that fagfest. All the girls are ugly and all the guys are gay."

"Kirstie Maldonado's hot, but she's an exception," Jeremy interjected.

"Yeah, the only exception," Matt laughed.

Scott shifted uncomfortably in his spot on the couch. "I don't know. I kind of liked it."

"You liked choir?" Tristan asked incredulously.

Scott shrugged again. "Well, yeah. I like singing."

"Okay, I'm gonna stop you right there," Todd interrupted him loudly. "It was a dark time in your past, but now you're actually cool. Old acquaintance is forgot, 'kay?"

Scott sighed. "Look, guys, I know they're all dorks, but can y'all just not be dicks about it? It's kind of rude."

"Whoa, the Crusader for Nerds' Rights has arrived. What makes you so interested in choir now?" Chris asked, taking another hit from the pipe.

Okay, that was enough. Running a hand through his hair in frustration, Scott stood up from the couch. "Nothing. It's just...whatever. I gotta go anyway. See you guys at practice tomorrow. Bye."

"Bye, loser." Todd muttered, and they all laughed as Scott gathered his stuff and stormed up the stairs and away from the disgusting weed smell and his bastard teammates. He was so mad he could hardly stand it. How dare they? They didn't even know Kirstie, one of the nicest and sweetest people he'd ever met, and they were talking about her like she was a piece of meat! Like she'd even fuck them. And then they were making fun of her friends? Hell, they used to be his friends, too. And for the record, they weren't that bad.

- The guys I knew better were my true friends. They always had my back and were pretty considerate of what I wanted to do. And that was all I ever asked for, pretty much.

As he walked out Todd's front door and towards his car, he took out his phone and shot a quick text to Alex.

Leaving Todd's now. I can't spend more than an hour with them at a time or else I go crazy lol

He unlocked his modest Honda Accord and got in, buckling his seatbelt and looking at his phone when it buzzed with Alex's reply.

Yeah get the hell out of there haha. You can come over if you want, my mom's making dinner.

Scott smiled. Thank God for Alex or he'd lose his mind.

You're the best dude. I'll be there soon