“Fuck you!”Do you like my hat?
“Fuckyou!”I do not like your hat.They’d skipped a bit in the script, but indeed, itwastime to bring this home.
Jules stood up, and yes, there were lots of eyes on them.Twas brillig and the slithy toves… He got even louder with every word: “Stay away from me—not just you, but tell your crazy friends to back off, too. Because I’m done. I’mfuckingdone. With you, with Belle, with your stupid Nancy Drew bullshit, withallof it. I cannot wait for David to get here so I can spend time with someone who isn’t a lonely, pathetic child.”
As he stomped away, Hobbit shouted after Jules, giving himself free rein to improv, which for sure was his strength: “Have fun—until he gets tired of you—which he will—and he dumps you again! Which he absolutely will!You’rethe stupid, pathetic child, believing he gives a flying fuck about you!Have a nice life!”
God, there was so much truth in those words and Jules knew that this time he was the one who flinched, but his stage direction was to flip Hobbit a backwards bird, so he did that, but God, that had felt so shamefully real.
As he approached the door to the hallway, he burned to turn around, thinking,Okay, Hob, nowyouget the hell out of there, too, because a dramatic gay breakup in front of a high school lunch table filled with jocks could be perilous.
It was possible Rodney was thinking the same thing, too, because when Jules finally did risk a glance back, he saw that Rod had started pelting Hobbit with french fries.
“Run away, run away,” he taunted—or possibly advised—the younger boy, who did just that, leaving through a different door than Jules.
Who sagged against the wall as soon as he pushed his own way through the doors to the hall. Shit, his heart was pounding damn near out of his chest.
That had felt a little too raw. Like he was living in some alternative universe where his friendship with Hobbit had turned into something more. As if Jules really were the type to mess around with other boys despite his hope that, yes, David would somehow see the light and come running back to him.
As if Jules could ever be that cruel.
We’ll share a good laugh.That line had been hard to choke out, but he’d said it. It left a bad taste in his mouth, a queasy-feeling in his gut, and a headache starting behind his eyes.
Hobbit had fired back hard with his improv.You’re the stupid child.Ouch.
Because there was truth in his words.Have fun—until he getstired of you—which he will—and he dumps you again! Which he absolutely will!
Have a nice life!
Jules closed his eyes against a rush of tears as he focused on breathing.
That had been hard and unpleasant, but still, knowing that Suspect X would get wind of their angry words and think he could continue his crime spree unabated made the awfulness worthwhile.
What Jules didn’t count on—but actually made sense the way gossip raged through the small school—was that the news of his “break up” not just with Hobbit but with all of his “crazy” friends, too, would make its way to Mr. Harrison’s very sharp ears.
In fact it was just after Jules had gotten hard nos, rolled eyes, andIn what universe would we have that kind of moneyfrom both Topher and Joey to his questions about travel to Mexico or Europe that Mr. H. pulled Jules side.
“Where’s Kevin today?” he asked, just a wee bit too casually, and Jules instantly froze.
“He’s... not... feeling well?” he tried.
“Jesus, you’re a terrible liar,” Harrison said.
“Yeah,” Jules admitted, “I’m not good with direct confrontation—I gotta work on that. See, I was trying to figure out exactly what you heard—which is probably everything—and how to explain... Well, truth is probably best since you’re not likely to go running to Rugby-Shirt Jimmy and correct his misperception, so...”
Harrison’s face was one giantWho the hell is Rugby-Shirt Jimmy?!, so Jules quickly tried to nutshell it. “There’s a kid we believe is friends with our prime suspect. Thanks to the information I got from you, we nowhavea prime suspect—so we’re feeding him—this kid—disinformation, in this case a fake-fight, so that he—our suspect—will think it’s safe for him to target another girl this weekend, at which point, we’ll catch him.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Harrison said. “Don’t tell me anything more.” But then he asked, “So, all this week, all this high drama swirling around Belle and Tom?—”
“Yes.” Jules cut him off. “Just... Yes. Might you have a video camera that we can borrow?” Tom had rejoined AV, but quickly discovered that the sole camera available had already been reserved by some kid named Albert for Friday and Saturday. And Jules didn’t want to go to Belle’s Plan B just yet. His goal was to do this without any of them getting grounded—or worse. “And... may I ask you to stay relatively close to your phone on Friday evening?” He didn’t say the rest—I’d love it if you could be there along with my mother when we catch the rapist and call the police.
But Harrison as usual, didn’t need it spelled out. He understood. And he started to laugh. It was not just his trademarksingle-syllableHah, but a real, belly-deep chuckle that went on for a while. “You honestly think you’re gonna get this done onFriday?”
“Oh absolutely,” Jules said. “We’re gonna catch this motherfucker before he hurts anyone else.”
“Well, that’s... terrifying,” Harrison told him. “But okay. Yes, to both. Along with permission, but only in this instance, to saymotherfuckerin school.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll bring in the camera tomorrow—I’ve got at least one blank tape, and a backup battery, too. You can grab it from me in class.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jules said.
