Work Text:
September, 1994.
Senior Year.
Jeff swaggers out of the guidance counselor’s office, shoulder bag slung over his arm. It’s two weeks into senior year, and he’s already bored with everything SHS has to offer. It doesn’t help that he’s gotten out of a lackluster advising appointment with his guidance counselor. Of course, he thinks the guidance counselor is an idiot, but it would have been nice if she’d told him something like…that he didn’t have to go to class for the rest of the year. Or at least that all morning classes were cancelled. That would have been great.
At least he has this block off. Thank god for small favors. He heads down the hall, to meet Jordan in the courtyard. They’d deliberately planned their schedules to have this off together. Jeff hopes that Sara and Haley are also hanging around.
Reaching the courtyard, he’s disappointed to see the girls are nowhere to be found. Jordan is sitting at a table, listening to his walkman, and Byron is next to him, being lame and actually studying, marking notes from a thick book.
“Hey bitch.” Jeff says to Jordan then, punching his arm lightly and sitting down. “Sup, B? You look stressed.”
“Don’t call me bitch, bitch.” Jordan replies.
“Bitch, I’ll call you bitch if I want to call you bitch!” Jeff smirks at his best friend and stretches out at the table. “In other news, my advising appointment sucked ass.”
Byron snorts next to him, not looking up from his book.
“Watch it B.” Jeff says.
“You’re just mad because she probably told you that you couldn’t sleep through all your classes.” Byron jots down another note.
“That was one time.” Jeff rolls his eyes. “Plus that class was the most boring class ever, and I was tired. Anyways, she told me that if I want to get into UCLA, I need more extracurriculars, which is total bullshit, because I’ve done soccer all four years, and swim team, plus my awesome column for the paper. That should count.”
“…She has a point.” Byron still isn’t looking up from his book. “Colleges want well-rounded—“
“Oh shut up, Byron.” Jeff snaps. “That’s not helpful.”
“Fine.” Byron shrugs at him. “I have to work on this speech anyways. This is my year. Student Council President.”
“You say that every year, B.” Jordan sniggers. “And every year, the boy scout—“
“
Well it’s going to be different this year!” Byron turns slightly pink. “Brendan Roberts is not taking this from me again! I’m not getting VP—“
“…What is this for?” Jeff asks.
Byron looks at him like he has two heads, finally distracted from the notebook.
“Student Council. I just said that.”
“Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention.”
Jeff is getting an idea though.
“I offered to be his campaign manager,” Jordan is saying now. “I could totally take Brendan down. Smear campaigns and all, but my dear brother rejected me.”
“…StuCo isn’t a big commitment, right?” Jeff asks. “Like you just show up and make a speech, and then put it on your resume…”
Byron really is paying attention now.
“Oh no.” He shakes his head at Jeff. “No way. You’re not coming to Student Council and fucking around, like you do in newspaper—“
“Excuse me? First of all, I do not fuck around in newspaper. I’m insulted you’d ever suggest such a thing. I am dedicated, Byron.”
“…You show up to turn in your column, and then spend the rest of the time eating Mounds bars and flirting with people, while I have to edit everything—“
“Yes, yes, B.” Jeff waves his hand. “Your life is super tragic and shit. I help with morale in the paper, and you know that without my column, that paper would be a piece of shit.”
He’s pleased to see that Byron looks more annoyed. It’s the truth though. Without his column, which features hilarious observations about the going ons of SHS, no one would read it. Students definitely aren’t there for Byron’s book recs feature.
“Anyways,” he continues, smirking. “I think I’ve found my answer. I’m going to run for StuCo President.”
He bursts out laughing as Byron actually glares at him.
“…No you’re not. Elections are in two weeks and I’ve been preparing—“
“So what? Make a speech, make some posters and shit? Not rocket science, B.”
“Jeff.” Byron gives him a pleading look. “I need this. It’s going to help my Yale application so much—“
“Oh shut the fuck up about Yale.” Jeff exchanges a look with Jordan. Byron has been going on about that stupid school for the past year, like it’s some kind of fucking magical unicorn. “You have eighty thousand other extracurriculars B, and you’re ranked—“
“I’m only third!” Byron whines. “And Brendan’s beating me by like a point, and if he beats me in President—“
“…You really need to calm down.” Jeff shakes his head at him. “This is senior year. You’re supposed to be having the time of your life, B. It’s just stupid Student Council—“
“See, and that’s why you shouldn’t run! You think it’s stupid!”
“It is stupid.” Jeff snorts. “But I want to get into UCLA.”
“You mean, NYU.” Jordan, who has been watching the whole exchange with a wide smirk on his face, finally takes off his headphones. “NYU, Jeffrey.”
“No, I mean UCLA, bitch!”
“Surreeee.” Jordan drawls out, then—
“Also, you’re being selfish, B. Jeffrey needs more extracurriculars. Do you want his dreams to die?”
“…What?” Byron glares at him. “You’re supposed to back me up on this!”
“I already offered you my services,” Jordan points out. “I’m expanding my horizons.”
“…Fuck you.” Byron snaps. “Seriously, I need to win—“
Jeff bursts out laughing.
“Are you saying that you don’t stand a chance if I run?” He grins at Jordan. “Welllll, we do kind of know this is popularity contest…”
Jeff is well aware of his standing at SHS, and how heads turn when he walks down the hall. He’d come back to Stoneybrook after eighth grade, due to his mother’s insistence that he needed more “traditional structure” (meaning that Jack and Carol had been letting him stay out until two in the morning and didn’t care what kind of grades he brought home). He’d naturally been pissed, but then decided that if he had to be stuck in this shithole for another four years, he might as well embrace it.
And embrace it he did. He and Jordan rule the senior class, tearing around SHS in Jeff’s Jeep (a sixteenth birthday present from Jack that Richard had deemed “grossly impractical”) and spending more time cutting class than in it. He’s captain of the Varsity soccer team, had helped them win state last year, has a hilarious newspaper column, has been nominated for the homecoming court every year. Girls think he’s hilarious. Guys either think he’s obnoxious as fuck or want to be him, but the point is that everyone knows who he is.
So yeah, he’s got a pretty good shot of winning President. Plus there’s the added bonus of having more opportunities to drive Byron insane, which is always a good time, especially because Byron has been a perpetual ball of stress since college visits last spring.
“Sorry, bro.” He says to Byron then, clapping him on the shoulder. “May the best man win.”
—
A few days later, Jeff is standing at SHS’ front entrance. He and Jordan have decided that a surefire way to win over the student body is food, so he’s holding bags of candy with “Schafer 4 Prez” labels on them.
Of course they hadn’t made these themselves. They’d enlisted Haley and Sara to help them, in exchange for a six pack and hanging out in the barn. It had worked out well for everyone.
“Hey babe!” Jeff calls brightly, waving to a girl that looks like a freshman. He flashes her a wide grin. “Take some free candy and then vote for me for StuCo!”
He grins even wider, amused at the girl’s reaction. She turns bright red, mumbles thank you.
“Oh my god.” He hears her whisper to her friend. “Jeff Schafer called me babe. Oh my god.”
Jeff smirks. It’s good being king, he thinks.
Then a second later, he realizes that the morning is about to get even better. The world is proving him wrong. Good things do happen before noon, because
Brendan Roberts is walking up the steps. His brother Drew is with him (or as Jeff thinks of him as, the only kid that manages to be nerdier than Nicky), and in between them is Danielle. Jeff has learned that those three tend to stick together.
He’s actually good friends with Danielle. She’s hilarious. This past winter, they’d cut classes together and done donuts in the parking lot instead of going to their stupid Biology class. Then she’d gotten sick again, which just isn’t fair, and Jeff had actually been terrified she wasn’t going to make it, but somehow, against all odds, she’s in remission again. She’s still pale, and has a brightly colored scarf wrapped around her head, but is laughing at something Brendan’s saying.
Brendan. Jeff shakes his head. He gets that he’s a good guy, and that he and Danielle are super close, but Jeff has just…never clicked with him. He’s too self righteous, too Boy Scout. Not funny enough. He spends his summers taking journalism classes at SU and volunteering at soup kitchens and driving Danielle to specialists in Stanford.
Basically, he’s a walking college brochure and this annoys the shit out of Jeff. He snorts. Brendan’s idea of a wild night is probably having a sip of beer and only studying for an hour.
“Jeff!” Danielle yells suddenly. She rushes up and hugs him, actually making him lose his footing for a second. When Danielle hugs you, she really hugs you.
“Heyyy, Dani.” Jeff grins at her, hugging her back. “Missed seeing you around this summer.”
Glad you’re still here.
“Oh you know.” Danielle laughs. “Super busy and all. My social secretary was overwhelmed with all the invitations, and there was the one from the Peruvian chancellor, so I couldn’t pass that up-“
“Excuse me.” Jeff shakes his head at her, playing along. Humor is always how he and Danielle have connected. “Are you saying that an invitation from the Peruvian chancellor is important than my barn parties? Rude.”
“Sorry, bro.” Danielle sighs. “Until you can get some llamas in your barn, I’ve got to go with Peru.”
“Right, I’ll just head over to the llama store and pick those up today…”
“Oh Jeffrey!” Danielle clutches her heart dramatically. “You truly are a gentleman. Though if you want me to come to your next barn party, those llamas better have top hats on.”
“What’s a llama without a top hat?” Jeff nods sagely.
There’s a brief pause, as he and Danielle both burst out laughing.
“I’ve missed our conversations.” Danielle grins at him. “We need to discuss llamas in top hats again as soon as possible. My English class is super lame this semester, so…”
“What a coincidence! My English class is also super lame!”
“Excellent. So we can hang out when we’re supposed to be in our lame English classes. Even though—she gestures at Brendan, who has just been standing there slightly awkwardly—“Mr. Perfect here disapproves of me cutting class.”
Brendan shrugs then.
“After this summer, I really don’t think I care about that.” He adjusts the Red Sox cap he’s wearing, looks curiously at Jeff. “What are you doing here this early, Jeff? Aren’t you normally trying to pick up girls with Jordan about now, deliberately trying to be late?”
“…I’ll take that as a testament to my awesomeness.” Jeff snorts, flicking a strand of hair across his face. Even Brendan’s put downs are lame. “If you must know though, I’m campaigning.”
“Campaigning?” Brendan asks. “For like…homecoming court?”
“Au contraire, Roberts.” Jeff shoves a bag of candy towards him. “For Student Council President.”
Of course Brendan looks horrified. It’s hilarious how seriously he and Byron take this, Jeff thinks. Like it’s the fucking White House instead some dumb high school election. Of course they’re friends, though Byron also has that weird rivalry where he thinks he has to beat Brendan all the time, because Byron is well, Byron…
“…You’ve never been on Student Council before.” He says to Jeff.
“So?” Jeff shrugs. “That’s prejudice! I for one am very passionate about student government, of making sure the needs of the student body are met. I will not rest until all morning classes are abolished and two o’clock dance parties are a thing.”
“Oh god.”
“Go whine about this with Byron.” Jeff says to Brendan. “And take some candy!”
He shoves a bag of candy into the pocket of Brendan’s hoodie, amused to see that at least Danielle is cackling.
“I should be loyal and vote for Brendan,” she tells him. “But…candy.”
She grabs a bag then, and grins at him.
“Later, J. Good luck with the dance parties.”
“Dance parties, featuring llamas!” Jeff yells at her retreating back.
She shoots him a thumbs up in response.
—
“Settle down, settle down.”
Mrs. Jenkins, Assistant Principal of SHS addresses the student body, who is all packed into the auditorium for Student Council speeches. Most of the kids there hardly care about the actual elections, but are just excited to get out of class.
Backstage, Jeff is lounging on a folding chair, amusedly watching Byron, who’s pacing up and down and reading his speech out loud. Brendan is nearby, making notes and also looking worried.
“Aren’t you going to do any prep at all?” Byron asks Jeff then, finally breaking off in his speech.
“Nope.” Jeff shrugs. “I got this.”
—
He’s going last, since the speeches are in alphabetical order, according to last name. This is exactly how he wants it.
Byron and Brendan’s speeches are the standard fare. Helping expand the parking lot. Student discounts at nearby lunch places. Helping to plan “awesome” parties, which Jeff knows means lame. Making sure that “senior year is just the right mix of fun and serious!”
Jeff snorts and rolls his eyes at Brendan’s closing statement. How did he think that was a good line? He makes a mental note to tell Danielle that she needs to help him with his speeches.
“…Thank you Brendan,” Mrs. Jenkins is saying to him now. “What a great speech! Let’s have another round of applause for him!”
Scattered, lukewarm clapping fills the auditorium.
“So we have one last speech, and then we can vote! Let’s all give a warm welcome to—she looks at the sheet, and bites her lip—“er, to Jeff Schafer.”
Jeff is well known by Mrs. Jenkins. Like the time that he fell asleep in English, and the time that he got in trouble for a column called “A Weekend of Debauchery,” and the time that he’d filled the swimming pool with rubber ducks…
Whatever. She might not be thrilled, but the applause for him is huge.
“Yeah Jeff!” He hears someone (who he’s almost certain is Jordan) scream.
“Settle down, settle down,” he says into the mic in a near perfect imitation of Mrs. Jenkins, earning a glare from her and laughter from his peers.
“Okay.” He begins. “Yo, listen up. My platform is simple. I’m not going to talk about parking lots or lame dances. No. I’ve got two words for all of you.”
He pauses dramatically.
“Barn. Party.”
The auditorium erupts into loud cheers.
“Say it with me!” Jeff yells. “Barn party! Vote for me, and come to my celebratory blowout barn party this weekend! Open invitation!”
He starts chanting—
“Barn party, barn party…”
Of course, everyone joins in.
"Barn party, barn party, barn party…”
"I can’t hear you!”
“Barn party, barn party!”
“Vote Schafer!”
“Schafer! Schafer! Schafer!”
The auditorium is going completely crazy now, erupting in screams.
“
That’s enough!” Mrs. Jenkins interjects, coming up and trying to take the mic from Jeff. “We’ve heard your platform Jeffrey, and—“
Jeff knows he has a limited amount of time, so—
“I’m not done yet!” He yells, reaching for a bag he brought onstage with him. He grabs it, and then empties the contents—a ton of candy—into the crowd.
“Schafer out!” He yells.
Then as a grand finale, he yanks off his shirt, and of course the screams get even louder.
He also has detention before he leaves the stage (“Detention for a week, Schafer!” Mrs. Jenkins snarls), but it’s worth it for the screams and the applause, and seeing Byron’s face when he goes backstage.
“Oh come on,” he says to Byron. “You loved it. I gave them the most interesting Student Council election ever. They’ll be talking about this for years to come. I’m a legend. That, and you know I’m going to win by a landslide.”
“…So modest.” Byron snaps. “Good luck with that. I think Jenkins is out for your blood. She’ll probably try and get your ballet DQ’ed.”
“Oh Jenkins.” Jeff shakes his head. “That motherfucker can’t get me DQ’ed. I gave a speech. I campaigned. Now it’s up to the student body.”
—
Of course he wins by a landslide, as he predicted. Mrs. Jenkins grimly announces the tallies later that afternoon.
“I hate you so much,” Byron whispers to him. They’re sitting in AP English. Jeff has his feet propped up on the desk, as people swarm up to congratulate him. “I swear, if this fucks with Yale—“
“Again, relax B.” Jeff shoots him a Cheshire cat grin. “This is going to be a fucking great year.”
—
“So.” Jeff says to Danielle. “Has Brendan forgiven me yet?”
It’s a few days after the infamous election—which people are still talking about, because it’s fucking Stoneybrook and that’s the most interesting thing to discuss—and he’s sitting in the courtyard with Danielle. They’re supposed to be in English, but it’s a beautiful day, so they’re sitting outside and splitting a pint of chocolate ice cream instead.
“Nope.” Danielle grins at him. “I think he’s going to be ranting for the next ten years. He thinks you should have been DQ’ed.”
“I met all the requirements!” Jeff protests. “I gave a great speech.”
“Oh yeah.” Danielle nods and takes another scoop of ice cream. “It was fucking hilarious. I was more amused than I’ve been in awhile. I think that’s the only reason Brendan didn’t punch you.”
“Because you thought it was funny?” Jeff asks.
“Yeah.” Danielle nods. “He’s a sucker for anything that can make me laugh, so be glad for that, Schafer.”
There’s a pause, as Jeff also reaches for more ice cream, suddenly not sure of what to say.
“So are you coming to the barn party this weekend?”
“You know it.” Danielle grins at him.
“Tell Brendan he’s invited too. No hard feelings. It’s going to be a legendary party. Llamas and all.”
“I’ll bring it up, but you know Brendan—do you want the last bit of ice cream?”
“Nah.” Jeff shrugs. “You take it. You’re awesome and all.”
“As awesome as you?” Danielle asks.
“…Well close at least.” Jeff shrugs.
Way more awesome, he thinks. It blows his mind how Danielle’s gone through the shit she has, and still manages to be here, cracking jokes and going on about how excited she is for the barn party. Sometimes, when he hears about what she’s been through, it makes him never want to complain about his classes again.
“Close to Jeffrey Schafer’s awesomeness,” Danielle is musing now. “That is a compliment. Jeffrey Schafer, boy king and legend of SHS…”
“Definitely a compliment.” Jeff grins at her. “Wouldn’t put it past you to also almost derail an assembly.”
“Got to add that to the bucket list. We should get a plan together immediately. More rubber ducks? Your llama store connections?”
Jeff only winces slightly at her choice of words, but—
“Totally.” He nods. “Together, we can bring chaos to SHS. That is my platform, and my solemn promise to you as President.”
“Sounds great to me.”
“Yup.” Jeff nods, and then, echoing his earlier words to Byron—
“A fucking great year.” He says, putting his arm around Danielle. “We deserve it.”