Chapter Text
As Jimmy showered in the morning, he remembered the chaos of the gym being on fire. That was weeks ago. Now, Gary Smith was expelled and Jimmy held his place as the “king of the school”.
Since relative peace had seemed to have taken over Bullworth, he now actually had the time to think back. As the scene of the fire replayed in his head, he realized that there was someone there he’d never thought he’d seen before.
That was at the time everyone hated him, so of course Mr. Burton accused him of starting the fire. Bo and that boy he’d never thought he’d seen, a strange White mystery Jock, were insulting him. The White mystery Jock called him a pig and said that he’d ruined his life, and Jimmy retorted by saying he had the personality of a jockstrap. That was a good comeback, Jimmy laughed at himself for saying that— but truthfully, he had no idea what that boy's personality was, or even who he was.
Who is he?
That Jock was some buff blond boy in a wrestling singlet. He brushed him off as Casey with a haircut at first, but looking back, it definitely wasn’t him.
That boy said he’d ruined his life? Even when everyone hated him, that was a bit dramatic. He didn’t even know him, and he didn’t seem to attend Bullworth, so Jimmy had no idea how anything he’d done could have even impacted him, or even how that boy would think that.
As Jimmy got out of the shower and was getting dressed, he then remembered he’d actually seen that boy once before. It was in the fall at the start of his year at Bullworth. It truly was the first time he’d seen him, and he didn’t question it because he didn’t know all of the Jocks yet. He’d picked a fight with Dan and was tackling him on the football field. That boy was watching him and cheering for the other Jock. Once Jimmy had taken Dan down, he expected to be fought by him, but he looked up to find that he was gone. He couldn’t see him anywhere on the field. He’d disappeared in an instant.
Whatever. Bullworth was a weird school. He wasn’t too curious about those sorts of things. If anyone would know, it would be Gary. He knew everyone. Though, of course, he wasn’t around anymore to ask. The Jocks would definitely know about this mystery member too, but he didn't care enough to go towards the gym and ask them.
As he left the showers dressed in his uniform, he was still thinking of this boy. He usually didn’t care about this sort of stuff; why was he so curious? As he thought, he saw his one and only true friend, Pete Kowalski, walk by. Pete had been at the school for two years before him; maybe he would know.
Jimmy stopped him. “Have you ever seen a blond wrestler around— a buff Jock with a buzz cut?” He asked. “Who is he?”
Pete thought for a moment. The Jocks were the people he kept away from the most, and if he didn’t know someone, it’d be one of them. He ran through all of them in his mind, none fitting that description. “No, I don’t think I have.” He answered.
Jimmy explained when he’d seen him when the gym was burning, and how he saw him before he’d disappeared that one time on the field.
Now, Pete was consumed with that contagious question: who is he?
As Pete thought about it, he realized he’d maybe seen a boy like that the year prior. “Actually, yeah, I think someone like that went here last year, but I guess not anymore.” He said.
The bell rang right after he spoke, boys pouring out of their dorms to head to class.
“He’s not in the yearbook. Wonder why he’d come back.” Jimmy said with a shrug.
“Yeah, he could have been in other year’s, but I never got one until this year.” Pete said.
He didn’t buy a yearbook before that year, his only year at Bullworth which wasn’t so bad and he’d want to remember in any sort of way. Jimmy knew everyone in the yearbook since he helped Ms. Phillips take the pictures, and he knew for sure that mystery Jock wasn’t in there.
“Whatever. See ya.” Jimmy said, leaving the dorms and being swept off by the crowd.
Pete went back to his dorm; he’d already finished all his classes. A lot of people had finished their classes. There was only about a week left of school until a seemingly endless span of summer would begin, two and a half months out of that hell of a school.
Jimmy finished his classes too, but he still went out and left the dorms to cause chaos. Pete preferred the quiet of his dorm over going out, especially out at Bullworth. He looked out his window, facing the front of the outside and always the area being pelted by eggs when a Greaser was angry. He saw Jimmy leaving. He reasoned that maybe himself staying meant he was boring or lazy; he really had no life, and the silence without Gary around to insult him made him realize it. Even if Gary was gone, he was still “Little Petey”.
Laying down on his bed, listening to the hallways get quieter as more boys left, Pete thought about that Jock. The year prior, he was pretty regular on the field and around the gym in the fall. Petey had seen him watching and laughing as Bo gave him a swirlie once. He’d never had a class with him, talked with him, nor even knew his name. Then, he sort of disappeared halfway through the year.
Pete thought about Jimmy. He’d done so much for him. He knew everything about the school, all the events and people of this year, except that. He wanted to help Jimmy’s question be answered: who was that mystery Jock?
Helping Jimmy with this was the least he could do after he’d saved him and the school.
He sat up with a burst of energy. He was going to be the school’s Head Boy next year. He couldn’t be a Head Boy if he was scared to leave his dorm, felt nauseous when talking to clique members, and was deathly afraid of approaching the gym. He needed to gain confidence somehow. He’d heard about exposure therapy, and it was pretty self-explanatory: he was going to do that.
Pete stood up. He checked his mirror and adjusted the collar of his pink shirt. “Who is he?” He whispered to himself. That was his goal, to answer that question. Unconsciously, it was in two ways: who was that Jock, and, who was himself? Was he someone worthy of being a Head Boy?
Pete stepped outside, June’s air perfectly warm. He planned determinedly that he would ask any Jock he saw about it— except Damon or Ted. He walked with his head high, hiding that his heart was already pounding at the mere thought of talking to the members of the scariest clique.
No one but him and the prefects were outside. He entered the school, hoping to find a Jock. He hoped to find a Jock there so he didn’t have to go towards the gym and risk being ambushed. With his connection to Jimmy, he shouldn’t have been so scared, but some Jocks, like Damon, were unpredictable.
Luckily, he saw a Jock in the hallways without needing to go towards the gym. It was Dan. Pete remembered two years prior when he had been a Nerd. Pete was just of the little kids, seeing older Dan when he was stick-thin, wearing thick glasses, and practically attached to his year-younger brother Thad. Pete replayed the images of past Dan in his head, trying not to be scared of him. However, he still approached with his heart pounding and fighting a lump in his throat to speak.
“Uh, hey— Dan?!” He called.
Dan turned around from his locker. “How's it goin'?”
“Do you know, um, someone in your clique with short blond hair, and pretty, um, buff— and he does wrestling?” He stuttered. He cringed at how he sounded like he had a crush on that boy or something.
Dan thought for a moment, going through a list of his friends to see who fit that description. They were all buff. Most did wrestling. Only Casey was blond. He then recalled someone else who he was sure Petey was asking about.
“Oh, Bob?”
Pete became hopeful that he was getting somewhere at the unfamiliarity of the name. “Maybe. Is he not around much?”
“Yeah. He kinda comes by sometimes. He was a Jock here for a bit when, uh, I wasn’t too close with them. I don’t really know what happened. I think he got expelled or something.”
“Oh,”
Dan then wondered more about him. Sure, he knew his name, and that he was one of them— sort of. He saw him in the hallways the year before, during practice and at games too, and he actually had a class with him until that boy had disappeared halfway through the year. Dan was barely a Jock before that boy disappeared, so he’d never got the chance to get to know him. Everyone was quiet about it. Now, it seemed like he didn’t go to the school, but was just there sometimes and treated as a normal bro.
Dan was hit with a question he never really processed: who is he?
“I don’t really know who he is.” Dan said as he realized it. “He’s close with Bo— and Kirby too.” He said as he thought back to who he’d seen him friendly with the most. “I bet they know his story.”
Pete nodded. He tried to hide how much his hands were trembling from just this simple interaction. Dan actually seemed really nice, for a Jock. “T-Thanks, yeah, that’s really weird.”
He flinched in fear afterwards thinking Dan could be offended that he called something about his clique weird, sensing how he really thought how weird they were too. He anticipated him to call for a serving of pound cake— or no, that was Kirby who said that weird thing.
The Jocks kind of lumped into one person at times for him, but it was clear that they truly were all weird, in their own ways. He wondered in what way Bob was. If he’d gotten expelled, it probably wasn’t a way that was very pleasant.
“Yeah. Anyways. Bye dude!” Dan said.
Pete exhaled in relief as he walked away. He still wasn’t used to everyone being friendly with him.
Bo or Kirby. Pete recited in his head who he needed to talk to. Those were some of the most terrifying people to approach, he hoped just one would be enough to get his answer. He couldn't find any more Jocks inside, so he walked around the outside of the school again. He still didn’t dare to approach the gym. He knew Bo hardly left that area, but he hoped to see Kirby who sometimes left the gym to be with Trent.
Walking the way of the abandoned bus, he stopped before approaching past the wall. He heard voices coming from behind it towards the garage.
“You’ve got really pretty feet— you know, for a dude.” A voice said.
That voice was Kirby, who he was looking for. Pete stayed still to listen.
The Jocks really were weird. Kirby was the one with the pound cake thing, and into Trent, and apparently into feet too. How weird could this kid get? The Jocks called people like himself weird. Everyone did. Even Algie called him weird. He always thought of himself as the normal one, a normal guy, but how normal could he be with his heart pounding at the mere thought of talking to people.
Pete waited excitedly to hear what else Kirby would say. Like everyone at Bullworth, he loved to gawk at weird people. It was why the Freak Show was the town’s top attraction.
“Heh, I think you’re right. They’re the feet of a star, baby.” Said another voice. That was Trent.
There was the flick of a lighter and a shuffle of feet.
“These are athlete’s lungs man, I gotta quit doin’ that.” Kirby asserted.
“C'monn.” Trent whined in response.
If Pete stayed longer, he felt he would stay still forever and miss his chance to speak. He finally stepped past the gate. He turned and caught Trent and Kirby leaning against the wall.
Trent quickly shoved a lighter in his pocket and hid a smoking cigarette behind his back, looking up shamefully. He had different clothing to combat June’s heat— cargo shorts from Worn In and double-strap sandals which showed off his feet. Pete looked up quickly and nearly gagged thinking of what Kirby had said about them, and what he probably wanted to do with them. Trent also had his Bullworth uniform shirt unbuttoned almost halfway, revealing his chest that was just as pale and pimply as his face.
Pete thought Trent looked like a total douchebag, but it was hard to think anything good about someone who’d bullied him for years. Trent was nice to him now though, since Jimmy defeated Russell and demanded the Bullies’ respect— a reason why Pete felt he needed to help Jimmy with his question.
Kirby was in a Bullworth T-shirt, showing off his muscles, reminding Pete that his height was no excuse for being so weak. He was terrified of Kirby, and it went both ways. Kirby felt threatened at his presence; he knew Petey was smart enough, and probably gay enough, to figure out that he and Trent were into each other. It didn’t even cross his mind that their future Head Boy caught them with a cigarette too.
Kirby stepped towards the even smaller boy. “What ya lookin’ at, wimp! I've got your pound cake right here!” He called.
Pete stepped backwards. “Calm down— I don’t care what you’re up to.”
Kirby couldn’t drop his fear that everyone cared what they were up to. He stepped towards Petey again aggressively. “You seem hungry for pound cake!”
“Cool it, man.” Trent called, holding his arm and pulling him back.
“Do you know Bob?” Pete asked quickly, and received blank expressions.
“Uh, I think he used to go here. I guess he was a wrestler, and blond.” Pete described.
“Oh, yeah, Bob.” Trent replied— not who Pete was expecting to speak.
“You know him?” Pete said, not meaning for his voice to sound as quiet and weak as it came out.
“Yeah,” Trent said. “He hung around Russell for a little bit.”
Pete was now even more confused. What Trent said made it sound like Bob was part of the Bullies clique, and Bob being a Jock seemed one of the few things he could be certain about. He then glanced at Kirby. “Do you know him?” He asked.
Kirby was bursting with energy, as always, but not angry anymore. “You BET. What about him?!” He yelled in response.
“Well, what happened to him?”
“He goes to public school now. He’s a great wrestler, great muscles too. We still let him come here sometimes and hang out with us.”
“Why doesn’t he go here anymore?”
This struck something in Kirby, knowing that in Bob’s place —which he actually at least partially was in at times like the current one— he’d hate for the word to get out. “That’s none of your business!” He answered, his tone aggressive once again.
“Oh, ok, sorry.” Pete said meekly. He turned around and walked back towards the school to get away as soon as possible.
Reluctantly, Pete headed towards the gym. He needed to find Bo, who hopefully would be more willing to talk. He hoped Bo would tell him why he was expelled, which he knew Jimmy would be the most curious about.
So far, he’d collected some information: his name was Bob, he was probably a Jock, and was no longer at Bullworth, probably expelled, for a reason Kirby knew but refused to say.
He approached the gym, making sure Damon wasn’t there. Thankfully, he didn’t see him. Petey quickly entered the building. He saw Mandy, Angie, Pinky, and Christy practicing cheer in the center. In the back, he spotted Bo and Juri doing push-ups together. Was that their idea of fun? He concluded that they really were weird.
Pete’s heart pounded, probably more rapid than the people actually exercising. He heard his heart pulsate in his ears. There wasn’t a place in the school he felt more out of place. He felt especially small with the high ceilings and all the tall people around him.
He approached the boys doing push-ups. “Hey— um, Bo?” He called.
“'Ey!” Bo greeted. It was practically a rule to be nice to Petey now. He followed the rule, and his days of giving him swirlies and shoving him in lockers were over.
“Do you know Bob?” Pete asked, standing in front of the two Jocks as they continued to do push-ups.
“Yeah.” Bo answered.
“What happened to him?”
“You don’t know? Mr. Burton caught him sniffing our jockstraps.”
“And?”
Juri next to him laughed. He rested in a plank, his face flushed and glowing in sweat. “Burton kicked him from the team. Only he allowed to sniff underwears.” He answered in his thick accent.
“So he was expelled over that?” Pete questioned. Sure it was creepy, but if that type of behavior was worthy of expulsion for heterosexuals, Bullworth would practically turn into an all-girls’ school.
“Kicked from the team for it.” Bo corrected. “But he was pretty hard on himself about it, and didn’t wanna keep goin’ to Bullworth if he couldn’t play sports. I think he started hangin’ around Russell for a bit, but we didn’t really see him too much since he wasn’t on any teams. Then he started going to public school.” Bo explained.
“So, he was kicked from the team just over that?” Pete questioned.
“Bad representation for our school. Imagine parents’ reactions to seeing their kid playing a game with a raging homo? We’d be banned.” Bo said.
Pete looked down at them with his mouth gaped. He was expelled for being— gay? How many unfair expulsions could a school have?
“Bob is my boy though. Burton still let him come to practice with us sometimes ‘cause he’s such a good wrestler. He can hang out with us as long as Crabblesnitch doesn't see. It was more Crabblesnitch. Bob really helps us— man, I miss him on the team...” Bo said.
“And Juri came and took his place on the wrestling team right after he was kicked.” Bo then added, turning to Juri. “You know Bob?” He asked him.
“Yeah, a little bit. He still a bit, eh, boy-crazy, you could say.” Juri answered.
“...And that’s why he’s gone.” Bo finished.
“That’s not fair. So many boys are girl-crazy— and none of them get in trouble.” Pete said.
“Life not fair.” Juri responded quickly, lowering himself into another push-up.
“I miss Bob. He had some crazy delts. He used to do push-ups with Kirby on his back!” Bo said.
“You think you could do that with him?” Bo asked, pointing to Petey.
“Hell yeah, man.” Juri said, the intonation of his accent making the words sound especially spaced apart. He sat up and stopped his push-ups.
“No thanks. I, uh, have to go.” Pete said, hoping to get out as soon as possible. The last thing he needed was Jocks touching him in any way.
Talking with Petey, Juri only then had the realization that he was a normal person. He was a nice guy, and he hadn’t had the chance to see that when he was knocking his books out of his hands or shoving him in a trash can.
“You ever think about wrestling?” He said as he glanced him up and down. “We need more lightweight boys.”
“Uh, I think I’ll pass on that.”