Chapter Text
Justin set his tray down on the cafateria table.
cafateria food..yuck.
Usually, Justin would be sitting at one of the fancier cafes in the Vale, enjoying a carefully curated lunch with two of his best friends, Parker and Tad. They had their routine down to a science: choosing the perfect table, debating the merits of each dish on the menu whilst shamelessly gossiping about whatever poor person they hated most that week.
But today was different. Parker and Tad had slipped out of the campus about fifteen minutes before the bell, leaving Justin in the cafeteria, feeling the sting of their absence more acutely than he expected. Just as he settled down at the cleanest table he could find—wiping away a few stray crumbs left by previous diners—his phone buzzed against his thigh. He fished it out, hoping it was going to be tad letting justin know that they would be a few more minutes because one of them had lost a pen in their last class or something like that..
when he clicked his phone on, only to to find a notification telling him he had no more storage space, he was dissaointed to say the least...maybe they where just running late, parker and tad? they usually werent, though..parker had a thing for being punctual, especially when the lunch hour was often a highlight of their day, not one of them wanted to even miss a second of it.
justin shoved his phone away and sighed, As he pushed his tray of bland cafeteria mush aside, Justin’s gaze drifted across the room. He found himself watching a huddle of jocks in the corner where they always sat, right in justins eyeline, their boisterous laughter echoing through the cafeteria like a siren’s call. Ted Thompson, a boy who seemed effortlessly charismatic, was refereeing an arm-wrestling match between Juri and Damon. The camaraderie between them was palpable, their faces flushed with exhilaration and mock aggression. Justin felt a twist in his stomach as envy gnawed at him; they seemed so carefree, so perfectly at ease with one another.
Just then, a burst of laughter erupted from the jock table, and Justin found himself wishing he could just slip into that world, even for a moment, where the bonds of friendship seemed so effortlessly woven and uncomplicated. Instead, he returned to his tray, staring down at his unappetizing meal, wondering how, contrary to the boys he was so focused on right then, that he had ended up here, alone.
"Justin, darling, you look like you're planning a heist." a sudden voice and presence across from him at the table managed to slightly shake justin from his daze, not enough for him to properly look away though. he could see out the corner of his eye, that it was gord sat with a reusable coffee cup and a cheeky grin, fluttering his fingers around his own perfectly coiffed hair.
"what's the
latest caper?"
justins gaze never left ted, staring at him like a deer in headlights as he watched him chatter away animatedly with his other team mates. "oh. hey, gord." he replied,
still distracted. "I'm just..observing."
gord followed his line of sight with a bit of trouble, not wanting to catch any poor boys eye when he didn't have to. but he should of just guessed that justin
was looking at ted. everyone, even out side of the preppies circle, knew that there was 3 things in life that justin loved. 1) his friends. 2) sports and 3) theodore alex thompson. he was like a bloody magnet. he seemed to only want to go wherever the jock went,and ever since he had arrived at bullworth for his first year, he had been trying to get his attention in any way he could. but ofcorse, because of their drasticly diffirent worlds, their paths where almost forbidden to cross.
"ah..still dreaming of catching that elusive pass, i see," gord mused, it was absoloutely NOT like gord to use sport euphamisms in his speach... but lately he had been hanging around justin a lot more since pinky and him, his ACTUAL best friend, where having a bit of a spat. you see, justin wasn't the only one who was secretly lusting after a poor boy. gord was deep in those trenches and had been for MANY years. when you looked at gord vendome, it was more than obvious that he was..well, to follow the trend of sports talk, playing for a diffirent team. and everyone around him had known for years..his father, and the diffirent nannies he had growing up had always knew. and if his mother had still stayed around and had given half a shit about him, she would certainly know too. and gord was proud about this fact. he was proud about who he loved and how he acted and dressed and spoke. no matter how many times growing up he had been picked on for being diffirent, nothing had been able to change his mind. and up untill now, gord had been able to pretty much get whoever he wanted.. it just so happened that what HE wanted..was what he was supposed to hate the most..and that was obviously, poor boys.
and for some reason, gord just HAD to of gained the most MASSIVE crush on the king of all poor boys at bullworth - johnny fucking vincent. justin and pinky where the only two to know so far..and gord did not intend on having anyone else find out...this was actually what him and pinkys little argument was about. since like nearly every girl at school, pinky also had a crush on johnny. so it frustrated her when she found out gord had a crush on him too, their last conversation had ended with pinky yelling at him and telling him that she shouldnt have to worrry any way since johnny would, quote, "never love a queero like you." ofcourse, gord let pinky and his closest friends take jabs at his sexuality all the time. but he couldnt dismiss the fact that it hurt him, deep down, it really hurt him. and what hurt even more, was that he kenw she was right.
justin peeked at gord for a moment before directing his line of vision back over to ted.
thankfully the flurousecent lights of the cafateria seemed to cover up the pesky dust of blush that was intruding onto his pale face.
"..sure. something like that." justin picked at his food, not wanting to really digest ANY of it.
gord set his cup of coffee down with a flourish, in justins case, gord and chad where the only two to know about ted, well. for certain, anyway, because almost everyone could definitely pick up on the fact that justin was crazy obsessed with him.
"you know, your doing a rather bad job of this flirtig thing, chap. i mean..look at you- sittign here with that "im-trying-to-be-subtle-but-failing-miserably" look, it's just...sad.." gord sighed, sipping his latte again. justin, for the first time the entire while gord had been sat across from him, finally looked properly at him and ntoiced the bulging black eye and busted lip that he had oh-so terribly failed at trying to conceal with makeup.
"..oh god!" he exclaimed, "..jesus! how did that happen? gord what the hell?" justin asked,his lisp adorning his words like usual.
"....nothing..." he muttered. but justin could tell he was lying, gords voice always went up an octave when he was telling a lie or bending the truth a little bit. justin just gave him that look that showed he knew gord was bullshitting him, and gord groaned in annoyance.
Gord leaned with one arm casually propped up with his elbow on the table and his face delicately held in his hand.as if he were trying to look nonchalant, despite the bruises blooming across his cheek. Justin was now acutely focused on gord, a mixture of concern and curiosity painted on his face. "So, what happened to you? Did you get run over by a truck or something?" he reached over and poked his face slightly, not directly on the bruise, he wasnt an idiot, but close to it.
Gord winced, both from the jab and the lingering pain in his ribs. "Close, actually. Let’s just say I took a detour into the realm of poor choices." He ran a hand through his hair, an exaggerated gesture of exasperation.
"...you didn't do anything too stupid..did you?" the expression that gord gave made it obvious that yes, he had infact done something INCREDIBLY stupid.
Justin raised an eyebrow, amused yet sympathetic. "well...And that led to...?"
"Ah, well," Gord continued, his voice lowering conspiratorially, "soo..you know..lola?"
the silence that sprouted from justin, something which was a stark contrast to the loud voices ricosheting across the walls of the cafateria, made gord bite the good part of his lip and look away from embaressment.
"..erm..theres an almost gauranteed chance that..jonothan and his gang may be a little..frustrated with me at the moment.." gord tried to explain awkardly.
"..what did you do, gord..."
".....i-tried-to-get-with-lola-and-we-may-of-kissed-two-or-three-times-and-nearly-went-further-and-johnny-found-out-and-ican't-really-explain-to-him-that-the-only-reason- i got-with-her-was-so-he-would-notice-me-and-i-could-kiss-HIM-."
gord got that all out in one breath, voice still low and spoken in a hushed tone so only justin would hear.
"you bloody baffoon.."
"it's not my faut!"
Justin leaned in, clearly intrigued. "So let me guess: Johnny found out, and instead of being flattered, he decided to reenact a scene from a bad action movie?"
"Exactly! I thought I could keep my secret safe. I mean, what harm could come from a little harmless flirting?" Gord laughed hollowly, shaking his head. "But then Johnny caught wind of it, stormed over, and let’s just say he wasn’t in the mood for any kind of discussion. It was like watching a lion defend its territory, and I was the hapless gazelle just trying to blend in." gord put a dramatic hand to his forehead, that boy was all about the theatrics..
"So, you got your face rearranged because you couldn’t handle your feelings?" Justin smirked, unable to suppress his amusement, also trying his hardest to surpress a few chuckles.
"Pretty much," Gord replied, a sheepish grin creeping onto his face. "HE re-aranged my face though." gord snickered a little, shaking his head and standing up from the table. "keep on gawking at your eye candy. i'm going to go throw this away." gord told justin, but the auburn haired boy was already laser focused on him before gord could even stand up.
Gord hoisted himself up from the table, reluctantly relinquishing his empty latte cup. His path led him to the nearest trash can, conveniently located right next to the jocks’ table. It was as if fate had conspired to ensure he overheard their conversation, and he braced himself for the auditory chaos that followed.
“Dude, you can’t flunk practice next week before the game!” Dan's voice boomed, punctuated by the crunch of soggy cafeteria fries as he shoved a handful into his mouth, chewing with all the grace of a lumberjack. Gord couldn’t help but grimace at the sight—Dan was the kind of guy who seemed to inhale food rather than eat it, and his complete disregard for table manners could probably earn him a medal in a competition for the most unrefined eater.
“I gotta, man!” Kirby protested, waving his hands dramatically as if he were directing a one-man play. He had already polished off his meal ages ago, inhaling that slop like a vacuum cleaner with a death wish. It was impressive, really; watching him devour food at that rate was like witnessing an avant-garde performance art piece titled “Desperation in Five Courses.”
“Why though?! You BETTER not be blowing us off for some chick…” Dan’s words dripped with incredulity, and the remnants of fries flew out of his mouth like confetti. Gord felt a shiver run down his spine at the sheer grossness of it all. He was honestly contemplating how quickly he could return to his table without losing his dignity—if that was even possible—when he realized he had all the intel he needed. With a dramatic flourish, he pivoted on his heel and made a beeline back to his seat.
“Clear your schedule for Tuesday,” Gord announced as he flopped back down, crossing one leg over the other in a flourish that was nothing short of theatrical. It was an act so decidedly feminine that it practically screamed, "Yes, I know which team I play for!" He felt a flicker of pride at his own audacity.
Justin turned to him, his face contorted in the clearest look of perplexity imaginable. “What are you talking about?” he asked, brows knitted in confusion.
"football practice is on a tuesday..yes?" gord hummed, to which justin gave a sheepish little nod..still confused as to why this even mattered.
"great! well, then youll take a stroll down to the football pitch, sit there and look pretty..and then see if you can have a bloody conversation with the man." gord nodded his head in the direction of ted, seeing the clearly nervous look painting justins face.
"but what if der-"
"i'll tell derby you're taking a wander through the vale on your bike if he asks."
he had a cover..and he honestly had nothing to lose.well, appart from his..reputation and respect from his peers..maybe a tooth if it ends up going like how gords encounters with the lowerclass usually went.
"but..i just-"
yet again, justin was cut off, this time by the piercing noise of the school bell.
"i've got to get to history..ciao!" gord wore a stupid cheshire grin as he wandered away from justin and tried to fight his way through the crowd of people, wanting to get to his class quick enough before another sewer rat in a leather jacket spotted him in the hallway and tore him a new one, leaving justin at his table, all alone, as the cafateria practically emptied.
justin contiued to stare down at his sad, pathetic excuse for a tray of food, that had been left almost completely untouched through the duration of their lunch hour, he could feel his stomach growling - almost feeling as though it was eating itself, but there was no way he could ever in a million years eat the cafateria garbage, justin didn't only think that because he was snob, *no* human should be subjected to that shit...not even poor people!
"Hey!"
the shrill yell was almsot immediately identified in justins head as edna, the chef..(could you actually legally call her that...?)
justin whipped his head in her direction, mild terror adorning his facial features, before he quickly got out his seat and snatched up his satchel bag from the seat beside where he was sitting,
"get out of my cafateria, fancy boy." justin furrowed his eyebrows together at her before he swiftly turned around and started hurrying out of the cafateria before she recruited him for next weeks slops special ingredient or something.
thankfully, that lunch bell had meant there was only one more class untill justin could go back to harrington house and sit and stew about this whole..tuesday football praactice idea that gord had proferred..all through biology he was thinking about it, the entire way out of the school and across campus to their dorm, he was thinking about it, as he sat on the corner of hsi bed and just debated skipping the dinner that derby and bif would of made and going straight to sleep, he was thinking about it. that was the only thought that occupied the boys mind for the remainder of the day. god.. why did gord have to try and help him? sittin in the shadows and watching ted from the sidelines, hoping everyday that he would even slightly notice him, was how he was supposed to be, justin never did anything bold, never made any big moves,
so this? this was a change.