Cricket, chapter 15
"Class, we have a new student," the biology teacher said. Billie rolled his eyes. He watched a kid with a huge afro and clothed in black walk into the room.
"His name is, um, what's your name, hon?"
"Christian Hill."
"Okay, Christian, why don't you tell the class a little about yourself?"
"My name is Christian Hill and my life's going totally exceptionally well. I live in my own little world in what you would call the depths of inner hell, which I have gotten very accustomed to. I am totally dead. TV is totally for fags. I totally hate everything. I totally hate Nazis. I totally hate children. I totally hate animals. I totally hate old geezers. I totally hate posers. I totally hate people that call other people total posers. I totally hate emo kids. I totally hate video games. I hate totally people that pretend they totally like music. I totally hate gay people. I totally hate life. I totally hate death. I totally hate breathing. I totally hate food. I totally hate me. I totally hate YOU."
The class was silent. Everyone who was sitting at a desk had an eyebrow raised. Billie snorted. This guy was a prick.
Christian bowed and walked to the empty desk in front of Billie.
Holy fucking shit! This guy's hair is bigger than his brain!
Christian turned around and stared menacingly at Billie. Billie just stared back, almost even more scarily.
"I'm Christian. I toally hate you."
"You're a fag."
"Wow. No one's ever called me a fag before," Christian said with amazement.
"Umm..." Billie was speechless.
"Wanna be friends?"
Billie was confused. The new guy wanted to be friends with him because he called him a fag? This was pretty weird.
"Well, Christian, I..."
"YAY! You're totally my new best friend! I totally love you!" he squealed, taking Billie's hand and kissing it. Billie drew his hand back in disgust.
"You're weird."
"Wow! Y'think?"
Billie stared at him. He wasn't saying it with sarcasm. He looked really proud.
"I totally think I know you," Christian said, changing the subject.
"Really..."
"Yeah. You're the guy from Sweet Children."
Billie just nodded. He wasn't gonna say anything to please him.
"I totally hate your band."
Nod.
"But I totally love watching you. You're like totally the awesomest frontman of all time ever."
Nod.
"I've totally been to Gilman Street. I totally hate it."
Nod.
"I'm totally gothish by the way. It's really cool. I totally hate it."
Nod.
"And you totally look like a punk."
"Yes I fucking am, so fuck off you stupid poser."
"I'm not a poser. I totally hate posers."
"But you hate yourself. So you're a poser."
"Yes. I totally hate everything. But I'm totally not a poser. If I was a punk, I'd totally be a poser. But I'm totally goth. I'm totally the gothiest gothy goth there is."
Billie rolled his eyes.
"My gothness makes me totally freaking awesome. I hate it. I think you and me should totally hang out. And I totally think you should introduce me to your wild dog pack."
"My 'wild dog pack'?" Billie had enough of this bullshit.
"Your crew."
"Oh."
"So I think you and your wild dog pack should come to my house this Friday."
"I..."
"Great! We're gonna hate this! This'll be totally awesome!"
Billie sighed. Stupid poser.
"Meet up with me after school Friday with your dogpack. It'll be great."
Then Christian turned around. Billie was still in a swirl of confusion. Who did this guy think he was?
* * *
Billie hugged Christina during locker break.
"Hey baby. What's up?"
"Nothing much. Me and Kiefer nearly killed Sarah Owens."
"That bitch?"
"Yeah. She thinks she's all that. Today she was going on about how great she was and that the world couldn't exist without her and we finally snapped."
Billie laughed. He hated Sarah too.
"You steamed, Cricket?"
"Hell yeah."
He kissed her.
"Dammit Billie, d'you always take what I say and make it into a kissing scene?" she giggled.
"Umm, no?"
"Riiiiight. So what have you been up to?"
"Oh yeah. You gotta come with me to this kid's house Friday."
"Who's?"
"His name's Christian Hill. He's really weird. He's a major poser. He walked into class and began talking like 'my name is Christian Hill and my life's going exceptionally well. I live in my own little world in what you would call the depths of inner hell. I am dead'. He thinks I'm his friend. So we're 'buddies' now and he wants to meet my 'wild dog pack'."
Christina dropped to the floor and began laughing.
"What's so funny?" a dark voice came.
She looked up to see where the voice came from and there was this kid with a huge black afro staring at her.
"Oh, my boyfriend was telling me about this fag who thinks he's dead."
"You little bitch. I AM DEAD."
Christina stopped laughing immediately. This was the guy.
Billie stood in front of her, his face pinched with rage.
"Whad'you just call her?" he growled, balling his fists. Christina saw this and grabbed his wrists to restrain him from hitting the kid.
"I was kidding. You're Christian, I assume?" she asked him.
"Yes. Don't laugh. It gives me a rash."
"Umm..."
"You better be coming with Billie and the rest of your wild dog pack to my house Friday."
"I-I am, Christian. Don't worry. I'll DEFINITELY be there."
"Hmph. Good."
He stared at her for a minute suspiciously.
"You're Billie's lover?"
"Yes. Gotta problem?"
"Yeah. Damn you. I hate you. I wanna be Billie's lover. But actually, I don't. Cause I hate lovers. I hate me. I hate Billie. I hate everything. I hate breathing."
"And I hate you."
"Thanks. See you Friday."
Then, as fast as he arrived, he disappeared. Billie was just staring at Christina, dumbstruck.
"Billie, that guy is weird. You're friends with him?"
"He forced me to."
"And he was scaring me! Why didn't you help me?"
"There is nothing you can say to that kid without him making it confusing. You could say 'no', and he questions it with 'fate' and 'misery' and 'hate'. It's REALLY weird. And he takes insults as compliments."
"Billie, don't hang out with him unless you have no other choice. He's really dark and weird. And you're too sweet to succumb to that," Christina pleaded.
"I won't, baby. I won't."
* * *
"Hey Mike. This is Billie."
"Hey Billie. What's up?"
"Nothin', except I hafta invite you to this kid's house. He's really weird. His name's Christian and he hates everything. But he's a big poser. Somehow, he forced me to be his friend and told me to invite my 'wild dog pack' to his house Friday."
"Um, right. Could you hold on for just a sec, Bill?"
"Yeah."
Billie listened closely and heard Mike put down the phone and burst into laughter.
"Haha! Okay, okay, so what did this guy say to you?" asked Mike, after his fit of laughter had ceased.
"Oh for fuck's sake Mike. Why don't you just lick his ass? Then you'll know!"
"Ha! That bad, huh?"
"YES MIKE!"
"I'll stop. So what's his deal with the whole 'wild dog pack' bullshit?"
"That's what I wanna know..." Billie muttered.
"Poor Billie," Mike laughed. "You became friends with a fag!"
"I called him a fag, Mike and he said 'WOOOOOOW NO ONE'S EVER CALLED ME A FAG BEFORE!'"
"Fuckin' hell," he chuckled.
"But please, don't ditch out on me, man."
Mike sighed. "I won't."
"THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU!"
"OK LET'S NOT TAKE IT THAT FAR, BILL."
But no one was at the other end. Billie had hung up.
* * *
"Hey Marcus?" Mike said.
"Wha-? Oh, no no no. This ain't Marcus," the person at the other end said.
"Who is this then?"
"This is Kiefer."
"Oh. Um, Kiefer, what the hell are you doing at Marcus's house at one in the morning?"
"Not watching chick flicks with Marcus and Al...?"
"You aren't?"
"Course not! Gah, shit."
"Ugh. Kiefer. I feel your pain. So whaddaya guys watching?"
"The Notebook. Marcus picked it out."
"Oh shit that movie is so fucking sad! I cried so hard."
"I know. Al has already used two and a half boxes of tissues. And Marcus. Damn, is he a wreck right now. Listen."
Kiefer held the phone toward the living room, where Marcus was sobbing.
"NOOOOOOOOO! THAT'S SO FUCKING SAD! WAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAA!"
"See what I mean?" Kiefer said, sniffling a bit.
"Yeah. I loved that movie," Mike sighed.
"So did you want somethin' dude?"
"Yeah. Billie told me to tell y'all that we're going to some weird kid's house."
"Is this that Christian prick?"
"Yeah."
"Ah, goddamit!"
"Kiefer, will you and Marcus and Al please come?" Mike pleaded.
"I HATE that cunt!"
"Kiefer!"
"I just wanna watch some South Park and eat a bean burrito. Is that too much to ask for?"
Mike was silent for a moment, trying to think of a way to convince Kiefer to come.
"Christina will be there."
"She will? I mean, that's cool. Yeah, I'll come. Just so she doesn't, y'know, get hurt."
"Yeah." Even though Billie's gonna be there, Mike thought, chortling to himself.
Mike shook his head.
"Make sure Marcus and Al come too."
"Will do."
"Alright. Thanks dude. See ya."
"Bye."
* * *
"Hello Gothdoggydog, this is Ladykiller-24. Gothdoggydog respond."
'Gothdoggydog' fumbled through his pocket for the walkie-talkie. He finally found it and answered back.
"Yo, Ladykiller this is Gothdoggydog. What's up?"
"Is everything in order, Gothdoggydog?"
"Yessir. The fox is in."
"Good. Nicely done, Gothdoggydog. I'm glad you and I are friends."
"Hell yes, sir. And I hate the way we're talking. But pretty killer nicknames."
"I must agree."
"We sound so professional."
"Hell yes."
"I believe our plan will work beautifully, sir. I cannot wait. And you are going to surge with power. Your enemies will fear you and tremble at your name. And we shall soon know the meaning of love."
"Well, Gothdoggydog, I certainly hope so. I hope to see you tomorrow. But for now, I must go. Ladykiller-24, over and out."
"See ya later."
'Gothdoggydog' put the walkie-talkie back in his pocket and sat on his bed. He turned on his stereo with some heavy metal. It was on the max volume and filled the house. He buried his face into the pillow. Then he took his Walkman and put in a tape, drowning out the heavy metal.
Madonna. *Sigh* You're so hot.
"His name is, um, what's your name, hon?"
"Christian Hill."
"Okay, Christian, why don't you tell the class a little about yourself?"
"My name is Christian Hill and my life's going totally exceptionally well. I live in my own little world in what you would call the depths of inner hell, which I have gotten very accustomed to. I am totally dead. TV is totally for fags. I totally hate everything. I totally hate Nazis. I totally hate children. I totally hate animals. I totally hate old geezers. I totally hate posers. I totally hate people that call other people total posers. I totally hate emo kids. I totally hate video games. I hate totally people that pretend they totally like music. I totally hate gay people. I totally hate life. I totally hate death. I totally hate breathing. I totally hate food. I totally hate me. I totally hate YOU."
The class was silent. Everyone who was sitting at a desk had an eyebrow raised. Billie snorted. This guy was a prick.
Christian bowed and walked to the empty desk in front of Billie.
Holy fucking shit! This guy's hair is bigger than his brain!
Christian turned around and stared menacingly at Billie. Billie just stared back, almost even more scarily.
"I'm Christian. I toally hate you."
"You're a fag."
"Wow. No one's ever called me a fag before," Christian said with amazement.
"Umm..." Billie was speechless.
"Wanna be friends?"
Billie was confused. The new guy wanted to be friends with him because he called him a fag? This was pretty weird.
"Well, Christian, I..."
"YAY! You're totally my new best friend! I totally love you!" he squealed, taking Billie's hand and kissing it. Billie drew his hand back in disgust.
"You're weird."
"Wow! Y'think?"
Billie stared at him. He wasn't saying it with sarcasm. He looked really proud.
"I totally think I know you," Christian said, changing the subject.
"Really..."
"Yeah. You're the guy from Sweet Children."
Billie just nodded. He wasn't gonna say anything to please him.
"I totally hate your band."
Nod.
"But I totally love watching you. You're like totally the awesomest frontman of all time ever."
Nod.
"I've totally been to Gilman Street. I totally hate it."
Nod.
"I'm totally gothish by the way. It's really cool. I totally hate it."
Nod.
"And you totally look like a punk."
"Yes I fucking am, so fuck off you stupid poser."
"I'm not a poser. I totally hate posers."
"But you hate yourself. So you're a poser."
"Yes. I totally hate everything. But I'm totally not a poser. If I was a punk, I'd totally be a poser. But I'm totally goth. I'm totally the gothiest gothy goth there is."
Billie rolled his eyes.
"My gothness makes me totally freaking awesome. I hate it. I think you and me should totally hang out. And I totally think you should introduce me to your wild dog pack."
"My 'wild dog pack'?" Billie had enough of this bullshit.
"Your crew."
"Oh."
"So I think you and your wild dog pack should come to my house this Friday."
"I..."
"Great! We're gonna hate this! This'll be totally awesome!"
Billie sighed. Stupid poser.
"Meet up with me after school Friday with your dogpack. It'll be great."
Then Christian turned around. Billie was still in a swirl of confusion. Who did this guy think he was?
* * *
Billie hugged Christina during locker break.
"Hey baby. What's up?"
"Nothing much. Me and Kiefer nearly killed Sarah Owens."
"That bitch?"
"Yeah. She thinks she's all that. Today she was going on about how great she was and that the world couldn't exist without her and we finally snapped."
Billie laughed. He hated Sarah too.
"You steamed, Cricket?"
"Hell yeah."
He kissed her.
"Dammit Billie, d'you always take what I say and make it into a kissing scene?" she giggled.
"Umm, no?"
"Riiiiight. So what have you been up to?"
"Oh yeah. You gotta come with me to this kid's house Friday."
"Who's?"
"His name's Christian Hill. He's really weird. He's a major poser. He walked into class and began talking like 'my name is Christian Hill and my life's going exceptionally well. I live in my own little world in what you would call the depths of inner hell. I am dead'. He thinks I'm his friend. So we're 'buddies' now and he wants to meet my 'wild dog pack'."
Christina dropped to the floor and began laughing.
"What's so funny?" a dark voice came.
She looked up to see where the voice came from and there was this kid with a huge black afro staring at her.
"Oh, my boyfriend was telling me about this fag who thinks he's dead."
"You little bitch. I AM DEAD."
Christina stopped laughing immediately. This was the guy.
Billie stood in front of her, his face pinched with rage.
"Whad'you just call her?" he growled, balling his fists. Christina saw this and grabbed his wrists to restrain him from hitting the kid.
"I was kidding. You're Christian, I assume?" she asked him.
"Yes. Don't laugh. It gives me a rash."
"Umm..."
"You better be coming with Billie and the rest of your wild dog pack to my house Friday."
"I-I am, Christian. Don't worry. I'll DEFINITELY be there."
"Hmph. Good."
He stared at her for a minute suspiciously.
"You're Billie's lover?"
"Yes. Gotta problem?"
"Yeah. Damn you. I hate you. I wanna be Billie's lover. But actually, I don't. Cause I hate lovers. I hate me. I hate Billie. I hate everything. I hate breathing."
"And I hate you."
"Thanks. See you Friday."
Then, as fast as he arrived, he disappeared. Billie was just staring at Christina, dumbstruck.
"Billie, that guy is weird. You're friends with him?"
"He forced me to."
"And he was scaring me! Why didn't you help me?"
"There is nothing you can say to that kid without him making it confusing. You could say 'no', and he questions it with 'fate' and 'misery' and 'hate'. It's REALLY weird. And he takes insults as compliments."
"Billie, don't hang out with him unless you have no other choice. He's really dark and weird. And you're too sweet to succumb to that," Christina pleaded.
"I won't, baby. I won't."
* * *
"Hey Mike. This is Billie."
"Hey Billie. What's up?"
"Nothin', except I hafta invite you to this kid's house. He's really weird. His name's Christian and he hates everything. But he's a big poser. Somehow, he forced me to be his friend and told me to invite my 'wild dog pack' to his house Friday."
"Um, right. Could you hold on for just a sec, Bill?"
"Yeah."
Billie listened closely and heard Mike put down the phone and burst into laughter.
"Haha! Okay, okay, so what did this guy say to you?" asked Mike, after his fit of laughter had ceased.
"Oh for fuck's sake Mike. Why don't you just lick his ass? Then you'll know!"
"Ha! That bad, huh?"
"YES MIKE!"
"I'll stop. So what's his deal with the whole 'wild dog pack' bullshit?"
"That's what I wanna know..." Billie muttered.
"Poor Billie," Mike laughed. "You became friends with a fag!"
"I called him a fag, Mike and he said 'WOOOOOOW NO ONE'S EVER CALLED ME A FAG BEFORE!'"
"Fuckin' hell," he chuckled.
"But please, don't ditch out on me, man."
Mike sighed. "I won't."
"THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU!"
"OK LET'S NOT TAKE IT THAT FAR, BILL."
But no one was at the other end. Billie had hung up.
* * *
"Hey Marcus?" Mike said.
"Wha-? Oh, no no no. This ain't Marcus," the person at the other end said.
"Who is this then?"
"This is Kiefer."
"Oh. Um, Kiefer, what the hell are you doing at Marcus's house at one in the morning?"
"Not watching chick flicks with Marcus and Al...?"
"You aren't?"
"Course not! Gah, shit."
"Ugh. Kiefer. I feel your pain. So whaddaya guys watching?"
"The Notebook. Marcus picked it out."
"Oh shit that movie is so fucking sad! I cried so hard."
"I know. Al has already used two and a half boxes of tissues. And Marcus. Damn, is he a wreck right now. Listen."
Kiefer held the phone toward the living room, where Marcus was sobbing.
"NOOOOOOOOO! THAT'S SO FUCKING SAD! WAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAA!"
"See what I mean?" Kiefer said, sniffling a bit.
"Yeah. I loved that movie," Mike sighed.
"So did you want somethin' dude?"
"Yeah. Billie told me to tell y'all that we're going to some weird kid's house."
"Is this that Christian prick?"
"Yeah."
"Ah, goddamit!"
"Kiefer, will you and Marcus and Al please come?" Mike pleaded.
"I HATE that cunt!"
"Kiefer!"
"I just wanna watch some South Park and eat a bean burrito. Is that too much to ask for?"
Mike was silent for a moment, trying to think of a way to convince Kiefer to come.
"Christina will be there."
"She will? I mean, that's cool. Yeah, I'll come. Just so she doesn't, y'know, get hurt."
"Yeah." Even though Billie's gonna be there, Mike thought, chortling to himself.
Mike shook his head.
"Make sure Marcus and Al come too."
"Will do."
"Alright. Thanks dude. See ya."
"Bye."
* * *
"Hello Gothdoggydog, this is Ladykiller-24. Gothdoggydog respond."
'Gothdoggydog' fumbled through his pocket for the walkie-talkie. He finally found it and answered back.
"Yo, Ladykiller this is Gothdoggydog. What's up?"
"Is everything in order, Gothdoggydog?"
"Yessir. The fox is in."
"Good. Nicely done, Gothdoggydog. I'm glad you and I are friends."
"Hell yes, sir. And I hate the way we're talking. But pretty killer nicknames."
"I must agree."
"We sound so professional."
"Hell yes."
"I believe our plan will work beautifully, sir. I cannot wait. And you are going to surge with power. Your enemies will fear you and tremble at your name. And we shall soon know the meaning of love."
"Well, Gothdoggydog, I certainly hope so. I hope to see you tomorrow. But for now, I must go. Ladykiller-24, over and out."
"See ya later."
'Gothdoggydog' put the walkie-talkie back in his pocket and sat on his bed. He turned on his stereo with some heavy metal. It was on the max volume and filled the house. He buried his face into the pillow. Then he took his Walkman and put in a tape, drowning out the heavy metal.
Madonna. *Sigh* You're so hot.
