"Sweetie, are you ready to wake up? It's your big day!" Arthur's mother called to him from the top of the stairs. She waited for an answer only to hear a loud groan.
Arthur lay in bed, right leg hanging off the edge of it while his arm reached for his mobile. He stood not very tall in front of his mirror thinking about how he didn't even want to go to this stupid ceremony. After taking a lengthy shower, he slid on tightly fitted, patched up jeans. His hands ran through his dyed green hair then slipped on a plain black shirt before throwing on a jean vest. It bore patches of band names and buttons littered with sarcasm and screw-the-system-esque sayings.
His mother hurried up the steps, shrieking when she saw him. "Oh no! No no no. No. "
"What a-"
"No. No" she pointed. "No. You're not graduating like that. No. Put something else on." She hugged her arms to her sides as if to protect herself from the sight of her son. "Put something nice on." She reassured.
"Mum-"
"Arthur!"
The young man rolled his green eyes that everyone compared to emeralds or jalapeños if you were Antonio. He snarled then shut the door. He exchanged the vest he wore for a leather one with similar material on it. The door flew open.
"Arthur no! What about that suit in the back of your closet?" she softened her voice slightly.
"Oh yes. My eighth grade confirmation suit will fit me j-"
"Put it on! It isn't like you grew any." His mother spat.
Arthur grit his teeth. The two went through this process every event. His mother told him about the suit, he refuses, she yells, he yells, she yells, he tells her that it's about time she actually cared about him, she becomes too upset to continue, Arthur wins. "Mum, don- "
"You're not wearing that hair either."
"You're right mum. I'll just grow out the sides in a few hours." His voice rose and fell sarcastically along with an expression that said "you're an idiot".
"Don't make that face, it'll say that way. Thank you. I love you." She countered then closed the door.
Nothing angered him more than when his mother ignored his sarcasm second to that annoying French kid in his class and his vulgar comments about everyone. The Englishman proceeded to pull on his boots and blow dried his mohawk straight up.
That was this morning. Now, he stood next to Jones. This was to be expected of course. The alphabetical order school systems adore was used : Alfred Fitzgerald Jones then Arthur Ignatius Kirkland. This also would not have been a problem if this wasn't the baseball player that constantly annoyed him but simultaneously arousing him. A flood of emotions engulfs Arthur every time they speak to one another even if it was not often.
Their parents were friends. This was to be expected considering that they're across-the-street neighbors and their fathers shared this strange obsession with collecting bird knickknacks while their mothers enjoyed eavesdropping on their sons. Because of this, Arthur knew more about Alfred than he should or wanted to. He can only imagine that the case was the same on Alfreds part. Standing there next to him made him nervous. All he could think about was how he knew how often the other wanked off, how he likes to sing aloud to Bon Jovi into his mirror and only his mirror, how he was obsessed with aliens, or when he used to wear mascara in 2nd grade because this Russian boy called him ugly then claimed the only solution was to do what his mother did, wear make-up.
Though the boy's parents were close the boys themselves weren't. They were "salt and sugar" as Arthurs father liked to call it. Alfred was sweet while Arthur made his father want to pull his hair out. He's called them this all their lives causing Arthur to go through the first years of his life thinking that if he were to eat salt, his hair would fall out, but that's another story.
Arthur's eyes could not stop glancing to his attractive peer. He had his cap in his hands, much to his parent's chagrin. In the crowd, his father was motioning for him to put it on or he will shove his oxford in his arse while his mother put her palms over her eyes. He wouldn't know this though; the lights on the stage nearly blinded him. He wouldn't wear the cap. His hair wouldn't allow it nor would his self-pride. He clutched the red hat behind him. He couldn't help but feel like everyone was staring at him. Not that he cared at all, only because that's the way it always was, even before he chose this style. As a young boy his eyebrows were the prime cause of the nosy eyes. It always seemed to happen at graduations, too. Not to mention that unfortunate event when he cried while singing the national anthem of England during his Kindergarten graduation.
He played with the piercing on his lip with his tongue. The principal, Mr. Clarke, called his name for the standard diploma. He felt eyes burning onto him. How he hated the school system. Alfred smiled to him once he came back and he replied with a lip twitch. He didn't know if that mean he wanted to say something or sneer. Feeling stupid, he waited for everyone else to walk into the limelight then back uniformly. The principal proceeded to call out names for awards. The award in the book club competitions went to this Asian boy with a bob haircut that was said to have personal space issues. The math award went to another Asian boy who loved to shove his traditions in the faces of all westerners. The Athletic award went to Jones, mostly on the account that he won every game he played for the baseball, basketball, and American football team. Every Asian parent and white parent who loved to pressure their child leaned in for the next award. It was the Valedictorian award. Arthur's parents relaxed. The principal held out the award adorned in gold lettering and frame. The man's eyes wandered at it for a bit then shifted to the awards committee.
"The Valedictorian award goes to…"
Parents grew completely still. They watched the principal with eyes what would kill if their child was not called.
"Arthur Ignatius Kirkland."
Everyone kept quiet except for Alfred, who clapped cheerfully. He turned to his right to tell the student standing there that he lives by him, like it was an accomplishment of his own. His parent's shoulders raised and heads lifted to look at the principal in utter confusion. Arthur never spoke of school. Wasn't he always smoking pot or dropping acid after school? Wasn't he drinking before he arrived home exhausted? Didn't he have a hangover when claiming he was too stressed and tired out to go to school? Didn't he lie about not skipping class every other day? The two adults gaped. They didn't know what to say, what they couldn't say.
Arthur hated school. All he wanted to do was make music but he knew he could not do that. Classes were easy for him. He did tend to have trouble in maths but he fixed any confusion by asking about it after class. He joined many clubs only to be away from his parent's judgmental eyes, not that he was not judged at school at all. His grades were all excelling state norms, though he never told anyone about this. It didn't matter to him. Arthur walked to the center of the stage to meet his principal.
The tall, politician looking man spoke. "This...interesting young man scored a 34 on his ACT."
Arthurs parents looked as if they were struck by their own and everyone else's mother. They kept a stare of disbelief and shock.
"He participated in academic clubs, and volunteer work, has over three hundred hours of community service, and participated in student council." All of this was read as a large question made to sound like a speech. His face contorted. He looked to the audience. "Who'd- think it, huh? " The audience snickered a bit. "This young man never mentioned a thing, I hardly noticed him under all that." He motioned to Arthurs hair.
He was obviously saying this with a friendly tone to appeal to the audience, which he did, but Arthur felt it to be condescending.
"Tell me, Why didn't you say anything? You're a genius!" he positioned the microphone so Arthur can speak.
"I don't think this is an accomplishment in a system that tests memory and not intelligence."
The crowd kept silent.
The principal gave him an odd look. "What about your community service?"
Arthur glared. "So I'm awarded for not being scum of the earth?"
Arthur's parents covered their faces. The audience commented quietly to one another about how utterly rude this boy was.
The principal faked a laugh. "What a feisty young man huh?" He looked to the audience then back to Arthur. "Well what do you expect from a kid with hair and metal like that?"
Arthur grimaced while the audience made a joke of him out of nervousness.
"Do you have a short speech for the audience?" He covered the microphone with his hand. "A short speech, please. No anarchy talk either." He joked again, trying to relate.
Arthur grabbed the mic harshly along with his award. "I'd like to thank my parents for always assuming I was doing drugs after class. Fuck you Mr. Clarke and mum, don't make that face, it'll stay that way. " He announced this with ease and the right amount of poison in each of his words. Dropping the mic, he walked back to his respected spot on stage.
The entire class of graduates were silent, the crowd held their breath, the principal bit his tongue.
"Well Mr.Kirkland, if I knew you were going to be this way, I would have asked the committee to give the award to Jones."
Arthur handed his award to Alfred.
Alfred looked at him in shock. "Dude, no you're gonna die!" He whispered and placed the award in Arthur's hands gently. He never imagined this. He could grow up and tell people that the valedictorian of his senior class basically told the principal to go do himself.
The class walked off the stage in silence and received all the gifts and roses from their families. Boys spoke to one another, girls staggered down the steps in the heels they can't walk in. Arthur's embarrassed parents went over to him and held his biceps hard. "Young man, I swear to you, you embarrass us like this again you will not have a place to live! Every party, every event Arthur! Don't do this at your after party!"
Arthurs eyes widened. "What? Party, No mum."
His mother smiled. "Just for you my baby!" She dragged him into the car. The ride home was silent and tense. Arthur pouted all the way there. A few people from school had already arrived. People were there only there because they didn't want to go alone, there was free food, and Alfred would be there. He never spoke to any of them, he wasn't sure if he'd even seen a few of them before.
As he exited the car everyone punched his arm and congratulated him of telling Mr. Clarke to screw off.
"Arthur balls of steel yo!" Alfred ran up to him with a big grin plastered on his face. "Congrats on the being smart thing too!"
Arthurs face flushed. "Why're you here?"
"You don't want me here?" The Americans tone fell with his eyes. He shoved his hands in his pockets for effect.
"Honestly, no." Arthur scanned the other with his eyes and also shoved his hands into his pockets.
Alfred pouted. "Your mom's cool though. She's making us brownies and a cake."
"She's baking them for me?" He looked up at the other boy somewhat hopefully.
"Nah, she said it's for us." He gestured to himself and everyone else there.
"Of course." Arthur mumbled, rocking on his heels.
"Hey, I think you look cool."
Arthur cocked a brow. "Thank you?"
"Yeah your hair and clothes and stuff. I haven't heard of any of those bands or anything, 'cept for the sex pistols but that's it. I don't really know what Crusty means or what half of those buttons are supposed to mean but I like you look really cool. Like… I think you would be cool to talk to when I'm mad."
Arthur sighed in annoyance but listened to the stupid flow through Alfred's lips anyway.
"Your shoes are cool too. Like big rain boots even if it ain't raining and the piercings everywhere, I think that's cool."
"Yeah, you said that already."
"No! I never told you I liked your rain boots!"
"They're not rain boots you twat!" Arthur barked.
"But they look like rubber!" Alfred whined.
"Get out of my house!" Arthur stared shoving the athlete out the door.
"But brownies man! Be cool!" Alfred clung to any piece of furniture he could grasp. "HEY HEY HEY HEY WAIT!"
"What!?" Arthur paused to listen.
"Why do you hate the government!?"
Arthur balled his fists and continued trying to shove him aggressively.
"I thought that would make you stop! Like a trigger or something! No no no stop man your mom bro your mom's in the next room she'll kill you! Shit dude! Dude umm you like unicorn s and stuff right!?" He was digging his heels into the carpet while trying to think of something, anything to say to make him stop pushing.
Arthur's eyes grew wide. He dropped his hands to his sides, still fuming. "Where did you hear that!?"
Alfred sighed in relief. "Uh, your mom told my mom that sometimes you draw unicorns on your hand and look at them when you see them on stickers and shirts and stuff like that. And when you were little you liked drawing fat little ones on the wall." His eyes darted around the room for more furniture to grab, just in case.
Arthur's shoulders dropped. "And you masturbate four times a week. Get out Alfred."
"But that's cute! And I'm ok with that. Wait what!?"
"You play with your knob on weekends and on Wednesday." Arthur smirked mischievously.
"You weirdo! Oh my god how!? How did you even know that! Ugh Oh my god!" He thought of a quick counter. "Oh yeah!? Well you tried your mom's underwear on once and never gave it back because you thought you looked good in them when you were 11! And! And! You had your first kiss with a guy in first grade then the next day his dad called you a fag! You eat your pasta without twirling the fork! You don't think Barry Manilow is horrible! You wanna lay Sid Vicious! You're the gayest guy I know! "
"Really, asshat!? Goddamned creep you confessed your love to your fifth grade teacher and tried to get serious with them! When you started noticing pubic hair you thought you were a werewolf! You wet the bed after watching the grudge! You pick your nose when you think no one is looking! You think it's sexy when I wear skinny jeans! You called your teacher mum freshman year! You wrote an entire essay with each paragraph ending in a pun! You think greenday is punk and you're a virgin!"
"Oh Yeah!? Well…Well... YOU CRIED WHILE SINGING THE ENGLISH ANTHEM IN KINDERGARTEN BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT THE QUEEN WOULD HATE YOU IF YOU SOUNDED UGLY!"
"YOU DON'T REMEMBER YOUR NATIONAL ANTHEM BUT YOU KNOW THE MCDONALD'S THEME SONG LIKE A FATASS!"
"YOU'RE THE BIGGEST ASSHOLE IN THE WHOLE WORLD AND MY MOM WAS RIGHT ABOUT YOU MAN; YOURE MEAN BECAUSE YOU DON'T WANT PEOPLE TO THINK YOURE NICE BUT YOURE JUST SOME GAY DUDE WHO LIKES UNICORNS AND HARRY POTTER AND DR.WHO AND I THINK YOU'RE REALLY CUTE BECAUSE I LIKE THAT TOO AND YOURE TOO BIG OF A DICK TO ADMIT ANY OF IT!"
"What did yo-"
"Arthur! Alfred!" Arthur's mother shuffled into the room. "Why're you two still here? It's picture time!" She grabbed both their hands with a big smile on her face and led them to the couch in the living room. "Smile!"
Arthur formed the biggest scowl he could manage while Alfred smiled wide and handsomely.
"Oh Arthur, you smiled this time!" His mother giggled and set up a projector.
"Whatever." Arthur chipped his nail polish with his teeth and leaned back into the couch, thinking about what Alfred mentioned earlier. 'I think you're really cute.' "Mum what are you doing?"
"Showing everyone pictures of their senior year!"
"No one wants that." Arthur muttered.
"Everyone but you." She fumbled with the lens until she heard a click. "There we go! Everyone gather around!"
Half the senior class crowded around the section of the couch Alfred was on to view pictures that they all had compiled. Everyone laughed, cried, and discussed the images with Arthur spent his time staring at the ground or chipping polish. He was not in any of these photos. Why would he be?
After nearly twenty minutes there was a shared laugh.
"Smile!"
Arthur formed the biggest scowl he could manage while Alfred smiled wide and handsomely.
"Oh Arthur, you smiled this time!" His mother smiled and set up a projector.
"Whatever." Arthur chipped his nail polish with his teeth and leaned back into the couch, thinking about what Alfred mentioned earlier. 'I think you're really cute.' "Mum what are you doing?"
"Showing everyone pictures of their senior year!"
"No one wants that." Arthur muttered.
"Everyone but you." She fumbled with the lens until she heard a click. "There we go! Everyone gather around!"
Half the senior class crowded around the section of the couch Alfred was on to view pictures that they all had compiled. Everyone laughed, cried, and discussed the images with Arthur spent his time staring at the ground or chipping polish. He was not in any of these photos. Why would he be?
After nearly twenty minutes there was a shared laugh.
"Oh! I must have copied this over Arties boy scout photos! Wasn't he cute!?"
Arthur's eyes darted to the screen in utter horror. "Mum what are you doing stop!" He knew exactly what she was doing. Payback. "Mum stop this is- Stop!" He stood up to reach for the projector lens.
She gave him a stern look. The look that usually meant, "If you do this, I will give your father the belt and let him murder you." He has been victim of this more times than he could count. At some point, he shoved his hand in the fish tank and petrified the fish to death. He got 20 lashings, one for every bottom feeder and 2 for every goldfish.
He sat firmly on the cushions, trying to hold back from kicking the projector over. His cheeks flushed, his palms were sweating too. He stared, traumatized the photo of himself trying to carry a live fish half his size into a bucket one fourth his size. There were giggles and "awws" around the room. The loudest roar was from Alfred. He couldn't stop laughing at the next photo of Little Arthur with a black eye because the fish hit him in the face. Another fan favorite was the photo of him crying with unicorns in his arms.
"He was so happy we bought these for him when he started camp, he cried! He always told us that he wanted to become a unicorn breeder." His mother smiled sweetly.
The group looked at him in laughter.
"You're like 5 dude why do you know what breeding is!?" A jock managed to sputter between chuckles.
Arthur hissed through his teeth. He sunk into the sofa and wanted to disappear into nothing. He didn't want Alfred seeing any of this. He nearly screamed at the video that was played.
"This was my little Artie after we bought them the unicorns!"
The video featured a tearing toddler Arthur asking a question in perfect English baby talk "Mummy, They won't breed. I put them in the room and no baby corns. I told them, make baby corns and they wont." At this point he is sobbing. "They don't like each other. No baby corns are here, see?" He opened the door to show her about 20 large unicorn toys. No baby." He turned the unicorns in his hands over. "I won't make money. No babies. Mummy why aren't there babies." He rubs his eyes away of the tears. "I think you bought me all boys mummy!" He drops to his knees and cries. His mother is heard behind the camera. "I'm sorry Artie. How about we go to Disney world in the summer to make up for it?" Arthur looks up to her furrowing big brows. "No don't change the subjeck." "You mean subject, love." "Das what I said mummy you're changing the subjeck I need to breed these for baby corns!" Arthur lifts the two unicorns in his hands higher to the camera. The video ends shortly after.
Arthur's mother giggles along with the girls. The boys laughed only because the maturity yet immaturity of him as such a young age was oddly endearing.
Arthur covered his face with his hands completely and refused to speak, look up, move, or anything. His body froze. There was nothing more he wanted than to be gone. Away from everyone and everything.
"Dude you were so cute when you were a baby!" Alfred laughed.
"Shut the hell up!" Arthur clutched his skull harshly.
"Sweetie you were so adorable! You still love unicorns. You nearly died when I have them all away! You are still a silly baby." His mother said with a sugary voice.
"Oh god." Arthur mouthed while listening to the shill laughter of everyone who ignored him, teased him, spread rumors, beat him up and underestimated him. He remembered the words of everyone who spoke to him in a condescending manner. Most of those voices came from his parents. Tears began streaming down his face rapidly. He was right. Every even he ended up feeling broken afterward. Something stupid always happened then ended up making him seem weak. He didn't cry as often as it seemed. He could feel the eyeliner smudging. Waterproof my ass. He removed the hands on his face and noticed black streaks on his palms.
He quickly stood to run into the kitchen as he wiped his eyes of the stupid tears.
Alfred walked in hesitantly. "Hey Arti-Arthur, are you ok? I thought you were- are really cute. "
"Leave Alfred." Arthur managed to push out. "Leave."
Alfred leaned onto the counter. "When I was little I wanted to be a super hero."
"Shut up that's not odd." He checked the paper towel he used for more eyeliner.
"Yeah it is… I wasn't the kinda kid who ran around in a cape and stuff… I mean I did but… I jumped off the roof of the garage because I thought I could fly."
"Again, normal. You're terrible at consola-"
"I was fourteen."
Arthur broke through his sadness with a loud cackle. "Fourteen!? Are you daft!? You were in high school!? That's why you had a broken leg? Because you thought you could fly? You are something special Jones!"
Alfred bowed his head. "Y-yeah. What I'm trying to say is… everybody does weird stuff… Some kids jump off roofs and some wear their mom's underwear and breed unicorns… everybody's different. Just some are more different and that's cool because then everything would be really boring."
Arthur turned to him, still not making any eye contact. "Why do you think I'm cute? That's the oddest thing anyone ever has called me. No one thinks that. They call me ugly, faggot, punk, gay, poser, rude, things of the like."
"I don't call you that stuff. You're really different and I like it. I think the black makes your eyes look good and your nose is a nice size for your face." Alfred picked at the corner of the chipped granite counter. "And the skinny jeans make you look long and nice. And the hair is really cool. Like, if I gotta look for you there you are." He chuckled. "You like nerdy stuff. You're not all anarchy and sarcasm. If you were there would be nothing wrong with it or anything! I… I'm not all baseballs and footballs. I really like Harry Potter too. And Doctor Who is really cool. I like to read, even if I don't always understand it. I think you're really good at reading. I noticed you're really smart too. I like smart dudes, they're nicer. And your eyes are so cool. They're like a bunch of greens mixed up. Like America before you guys went over.
Arthur chuckled softly, wiping the last of his tears. "I suppose."
"Hey, you called me a virgin… does that mean you're not?" Alfred stuttered a bit. He was hoping for the answer that is not yes.
"No. No I'm not." Arthur rubbed his eye the same way he did in the video.
"Oh, Lucky. You got a lover?" Alfred looked into Arthurs mixed-up-green-eyes.
"No."
Alfred made a tiny smile. "You left him?"
"Never had a boyfriend." Arthur looked back at Alfred over his fingers.
"Oh. So you like hook up and stuff, that's cool bro. So like you're like," Alfred coughed and prepared his best British accent that was anything but best. "Oi I think you're well fit lad we can have a jolly time in my flat if you know what I mean. Then he says, hell yes you're Fine baby That accent though lemme have some of that. And then you get laid and it's all good? That's cool, I wish I could do that. "
Arthur leaned away from Alfred. "You're the biggest idiot. No I don't say that." Arthur couldn't help but be angry and laugh. "My first time was not consensual you moron!" Arthur weakly punched Alfred's chest.
The American smirked then frowned when he heard the second bit. He dropped his shoulders then rested a hand on Arthur's. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine, I don't- I don't really think about it anymore." Arthur shrugged the issue off.
"Oh, ok." Alfred smiled to reassure Arthur but knew there probably wasn't a day where he didn't think about it. "Hey, Arthur, wanna hangout sometime and rave over the new doctor or something?" He looked to his feet embarrassedly.
The punk smiled. "Yes, actually. That would be fantastic."
Alfred wrung his hand then looked into Arthurs eyes again. "Awesome yo, I think we'd kinda get along, if you don't punch me in the face first." He let out a small chuckle. "You're not so mean."
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