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[...faster than you can say 'pecking order'...]
I Saved The World And All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt
The Faculty. PG. Casey, et al.
Anywhere but now. Post-movie.
-
Seriously, if they'd let him, Casey would stand in front of a shelf of media and just. Not. Move.
It's easier than you think. Not moving, that is. You just don't. In addition to having a thing for reading blurbs and tracklists, Casey just isn't prone to moving sometimes. It's not that he's lazy. It's that there's nothing to do. Why waste the energy?
These are Casey's Saturday afternoons.
He's in the fiction section of Barnes & Noble reading the backs of books until a clerk asks him if she can help him find anything. It's the same clerk asking the same question the last three times too, except now she looks more pissed off. Casey buys a copy of Alex Garland's The Beach just to get her off his back, even though he didn't like the movie and thought time would have been kinder to Leo if it had stopped after What's Eating Gilbert Grape?
"Enjoy your book," she says, and when no one is looking, just as Casey is about to step out the door, he flips her off.
+
Delilah lasted a month and a half.
It didn't really surprise Casey, except it kind of did, because he expected it to last shorter than that. He felt like an impostor every time she smiled at him. He's not really as cool as people think he is, is he? Not cool enough to be able to put his arms around Delilah without the social order breaking it off? Oh god she's smiling at me. Is Delilah Profitt really smiling at me? Why would Delilah Profitt be smiling at Casey Connor? Because you're her boyfriend, assface, SMILE BACK.
He would, just in the nick of time. Then Delilah would slip her arm around his and the peanut gallery in his head would start up again. Even when he finally got used to receiving constant attention from the hottest girl in school - which didn't take that long because, hello, hottest girl in school here, enjoy while you can - there were other things that got in the way.
Item 1: Casey isn't good at kissing.
Item 2: Casey isn't good at sex.
Delilah only seemed irritated, but whatever. As long as she had her famous boyfriend, things were kind of peachy. For a while, anyway. As for Casey, he was feeling more than irritated, because now Delilah Profitt, of all people, knew that he was a bad kisser and horrible in bed.
"Have you ever had sex before?" she asked.
Casey took a little too long to answer, and Delilah rolled her eyes and turned away before he could reply.
Okay, so he had been a virgin before Delilah came along. So fucking what.
"So, you're boring," said Delilah on the day of the breakup.
He bristled, yelling, "What, because I'm not good at... I'm good at other things!"
Delilah scowled at the retracted oversimplification. "Because you're you."
And, fuck.
That's the problem inherent in the system, isn't it?
Casey looks around the school now, one year later, and he sees Delilah being Delilah, Zeke being Zeke. Stan being Stan even though he's still with Stokes, even though Stokes is also still Stokes, just with a more colorful wardrobe.
(Stan and Stokes. Casey's never going to understand that. He's a little envious of them. They're weird and mismatched, kind of like him and Delilah, but so not him and Delilah at all. What do those two have that Casey doesn't? Sometimes Casey feels like asking, "You're a brainless sports fan and you're a dykey goth geek; how do you keep it together?" Casey doesn't say anything, and Stan and Stokely continue breaking the laws of American high schools across the land.)
Casey is Casey is Casey. He can't help it. If Delilah had been a girl he actually cared about instead of the hot chick who wanted a famous boyfriend, then maybe he would have tried to better explain it to her.
This is me and I'm sorry. Please stick around until I get it right.
The MiB, as the rest of the school have come to call them, still say hi in the halls, still smile at each other, still consider each other the appropriate people with which to engage in small talk. Besides that... Well.
The end of high school seems so, so far away.
+
Zeke used to give Casey free scat. He used to give all of them free scat, but now he's started charging again.
"Where's the love, man?" asked Casey one time.
"If you've got the money, I've got lots of love," Zeke replied. He held out two pens.
"I might take you up on that offer."
Zeke raised his eyebrow. "Don't make gay jokes in public, Case. They're already suspicious."
"What?"
"Yeah. Inside scoop from Delilah is you're not really a ladies' man."
Casey hates Zeke when he talks like this. Like he finds Casey amusing. He probably does, the smug bastard. If Casey was in Zeke's place, then maybe he would probably find himself pretty funny too. Well, right now Casey isn't Zeke so he yells, "What?! Hey, you misunderstood. I'm not not a ladies' man, I'm just ba..."
"You're just what?" Zeke grinned, as if knowing the answer. "Just what?"
Casey snatched the pens and stormed away, the red rising in his cheeks. Jesus, what the hell happened to everybody?
Answer: nothing.
This was probably what Marybeth was talking about. People are assholes. If you joined her alien cult, then at least everyone would be the same kind of asshole. Equalized. Neutralized. There's just one Them, which makes things less confusing. See, even if you're not part of the high school A-list, there are still more than one subgroup of losers you can belong to. Are you a stoner? Punk goth? Indie snob? White trash? One of those people who hang out at the computer lab at lunch? Perhaps you are a combination of some or all of the above. Where to go? What to do?
If the entire world was in high school, Marybeth would have conquered it faster than you can say 'pecking order'.
+
So some of Casey's Saturday afternoon is spent in a bus stop, waiting for a bus that's always late, hating to go home but hating even more to stay out here, looking at Herrington. Having to be surrounded by Herrington. (Technically he would be surrounded by Herrington at home, too, but at least at home he'd be able to shut the windows.)
There's a town in Idaho called Hellhole. Casey wonders if that town and this town were switched at birth.
What Casey really wants to do is stand on the highest point in Herrington and yell into a mic connected to the loudest, deadliest sound system ever: "I KILLED THE ALIEN QUEEN, YOU INGRATES! REMEMBER?! REMEMBER?!"
He's the man.
Maybe things will pick up when he starts applying to college. Everyone will remember him as the kid who saved the world and every school in the nation will want him. He can write his college essay about kicking alien butt and everyone will think it's cool. Today, however, this Saturday, right now, he's in the no man's land between freshman year and graduation and there doesn't seem to be anything he can do about it.
Someone somewhere has hit the pause button without his consent.
Casey takes out his new book out of the bag, inspects it and turns it over in his hands. He thinks about the Barnes & Noble clerk with the bitter look in her eye, asking him are you looking for something? Can I help you? Can I help you find anything?
Can she?
Part of the reason Casey's so good at not moving is that everyone else in Herrington isn't moving either.
[end.]
The Faculty. PG. Casey, et al.
Anywhere but now. Post-movie.
Seriously, if they'd let him, Casey would stand in front of a shelf of media and just. Not. Move.
It's easier than you think. Not moving, that is. You just don't. In addition to having a thing for reading blurbs and tracklists, Casey just isn't prone to moving sometimes. It's not that he's lazy. It's that there's nothing to do. Why waste the energy?
These are Casey's Saturday afternoons.
He's in the fiction section of Barnes & Noble reading the backs of books until a clerk asks him if she can help him find anything. It's the same clerk asking the same question the last three times too, except now she looks more pissed off. Casey buys a copy of Alex Garland's The Beach just to get her off his back, even though he didn't like the movie and thought time would have been kinder to Leo if it had stopped after What's Eating Gilbert Grape?
"Enjoy your book," she says, and when no one is looking, just as Casey is about to step out the door, he flips her off.
+
Delilah lasted a month and a half.
It didn't really surprise Casey, except it kind of did, because he expected it to last shorter than that. He felt like an impostor every time she smiled at him. He's not really as cool as people think he is, is he? Not cool enough to be able to put his arms around Delilah without the social order breaking it off? Oh god she's smiling at me. Is Delilah Profitt really smiling at me? Why would Delilah Profitt be smiling at Casey Connor? Because you're her boyfriend, assface, SMILE BACK.
He would, just in the nick of time. Then Delilah would slip her arm around his and the peanut gallery in his head would start up again. Even when he finally got used to receiving constant attention from the hottest girl in school - which didn't take that long because, hello, hottest girl in school here, enjoy while you can - there were other things that got in the way.
Item 1: Casey isn't good at kissing.
Item 2: Casey isn't good at sex.
Delilah only seemed irritated, but whatever. As long as she had her famous boyfriend, things were kind of peachy. For a while, anyway. As for Casey, he was feeling more than irritated, because now Delilah Profitt, of all people, knew that he was a bad kisser and horrible in bed.
"Have you ever had sex before?" she asked.
Casey took a little too long to answer, and Delilah rolled her eyes and turned away before he could reply.
Okay, so he had been a virgin before Delilah came along. So fucking what.
"So, you're boring," said Delilah on the day of the breakup.
He bristled, yelling, "What, because I'm not good at... I'm good at other things!"
Delilah scowled at the retracted oversimplification. "Because you're you."
And, fuck.
That's the problem inherent in the system, isn't it?
Casey looks around the school now, one year later, and he sees Delilah being Delilah, Zeke being Zeke. Stan being Stan even though he's still with Stokes, even though Stokes is also still Stokes, just with a more colorful wardrobe.
(Stan and Stokes. Casey's never going to understand that. He's a little envious of them. They're weird and mismatched, kind of like him and Delilah, but so not him and Delilah at all. What do those two have that Casey doesn't? Sometimes Casey feels like asking, "You're a brainless sports fan and you're a dykey goth geek; how do you keep it together?" Casey doesn't say anything, and Stan and Stokely continue breaking the laws of American high schools across the land.)
Casey is Casey is Casey. He can't help it. If Delilah had been a girl he actually cared about instead of the hot chick who wanted a famous boyfriend, then maybe he would have tried to better explain it to her.
This is me and I'm sorry. Please stick around until I get it right.
The MiB, as the rest of the school have come to call them, still say hi in the halls, still smile at each other, still consider each other the appropriate people with which to engage in small talk. Besides that... Well.
The end of high school seems so, so far away.
+
Zeke used to give Casey free scat. He used to give all of them free scat, but now he's started charging again.
"Where's the love, man?" asked Casey one time.
"If you've got the money, I've got lots of love," Zeke replied. He held out two pens.
"I might take you up on that offer."
Zeke raised his eyebrow. "Don't make gay jokes in public, Case. They're already suspicious."
"What?"
"Yeah. Inside scoop from Delilah is you're not really a ladies' man."
Casey hates Zeke when he talks like this. Like he finds Casey amusing. He probably does, the smug bastard. If Casey was in Zeke's place, then maybe he would probably find himself pretty funny too. Well, right now Casey isn't Zeke so he yells, "What?! Hey, you misunderstood. I'm not not a ladies' man, I'm just ba..."
"You're just what?" Zeke grinned, as if knowing the answer. "Just what?"
Casey snatched the pens and stormed away, the red rising in his cheeks. Jesus, what the hell happened to everybody?
Answer: nothing.
This was probably what Marybeth was talking about. People are assholes. If you joined her alien cult, then at least everyone would be the same kind of asshole. Equalized. Neutralized. There's just one Them, which makes things less confusing. See, even if you're not part of the high school A-list, there are still more than one subgroup of losers you can belong to. Are you a stoner? Punk goth? Indie snob? White trash? One of those people who hang out at the computer lab at lunch? Perhaps you are a combination of some or all of the above. Where to go? What to do?
If the entire world was in high school, Marybeth would have conquered it faster than you can say 'pecking order'.
+
So some of Casey's Saturday afternoon is spent in a bus stop, waiting for a bus that's always late, hating to go home but hating even more to stay out here, looking at Herrington. Having to be surrounded by Herrington. (Technically he would be surrounded by Herrington at home, too, but at least at home he'd be able to shut the windows.)
There's a town in Idaho called Hellhole. Casey wonders if that town and this town were switched at birth.
What Casey really wants to do is stand on the highest point in Herrington and yell into a mic connected to the loudest, deadliest sound system ever: "I KILLED THE ALIEN QUEEN, YOU INGRATES! REMEMBER?! REMEMBER?!"
He's the man.
Maybe things will pick up when he starts applying to college. Everyone will remember him as the kid who saved the world and every school in the nation will want him. He can write his college essay about kicking alien butt and everyone will think it's cool. Today, however, this Saturday, right now, he's in the no man's land between freshman year and graduation and there doesn't seem to be anything he can do about it.
Someone somewhere has hit the pause button without his consent.
Casey takes out his new book out of the bag, inspects it and turns it over in his hands. He thinks about the Barnes & Noble clerk with the bitter look in her eye, asking him are you looking for something? Can I help you? Can I help you find anything?
Can she?
Part of the reason Casey's so good at not moving is that everyone else in Herrington isn't moving either.
[end.]
no subject
So you are familiar with the Faculty fandom?
no subject
er, not really. I've seen the movie in bits and pieces on tv and stuff, but that's about it. I remember casey and zeke because i was all, slash! And then Lale's got that surreal series going on, but I've mostly just skimmed the latest few, another part of my being all behind in reading and stuff. I mean, I could beta for style and stuff, but i don't know that I could tell you if your characterization was way off or anything.