Are you |RUNNING| or what?

[hook]

Drake stepped into the large gym of the academy after just changing into his uniform, the mandatory t-shirt that had BAUM ACADEMY blazoned across the front and the blue shorts. God, he hated to admit it, but he fuking LOVED this class. it was absolutely amazing. In no other class was he allowed to run and blow ff some steam instead of sitting in just one big dulll, boring classroom listening to a teacher drone ON and ON about how bad marijuana was and how it sayed in your hair for...well, forever or something. Bullshit, they didn't know what they were talking about. Drake was PERFECTLY fine and his hair looked fucking great, ALL the time.

God, the one thing he hated about it was the suckers in the class that whiiined and complaaained about getting to MOVE and do stuff. They were just annoying. What the fuck was even wrong with them? How could you NOT love to run and jump and spike the volleyball and bend and extend? Like that weird kid, Zack or whatever.

And then there was that one runt chick that had somehow been bumped into his class. That stupid little blonde ditz, the innocent goody two-shoes that that Cory kid always hung around. God, couldn't they just make it official already? Either they were screwing each other or not, they couldn't keep beating around the bush.

God, he wasn't so sure he could make it through another semester of gym with those two dumbshits. It was gonna be hard. Reaaaaally hard.

[ZACK CHARMING]

These "uniforms" are simply horrendous, Zack thought to himself as he trudged into the gym. Not to mention that the gym teacher, besides being a complete idiot, had extremely unrealistic expectations of his students. This was going to be an interesting semester. Zack grinned to himself as he watched the busload of invalids "bending and extending" across the net. How purposeful they looked. Such ignorant fools. I'd love to see them in twenty years. Shouldn't be too hard to find. Check the cardboard boxes of every street corner.

"Look at them," he cooed sarcastically to the red-faced gym teacher who smelled strongly of rubbing alcohol. "A bunch of cute little ballerinas." He pointed to his face. "See this here? So touching. It's the sight of my eyes not filling with tears. This is idiocy. We should be learning real things."

The teacher's face grew red, and he turned to glare at Zack. "Not another word out of you, Zackary. Now go work on that bend and extend."

Zack rolled his eyes. "Oh ho ho. Bend and extend. What a rhyme. Mother Goose would be so proud of you."

Mr. Guy looked like he was ready to bend and extend Zack's spinal column. "You respect your elders young man, or I will tell the APO about you, mark my words."

Zack chuckled. "That threat would faze me, Mr.Dude or whatever your name is, except that the APO is not a person. It's an office. That's what the O stands for, you see. Now I know the word acronym is a three-syllable word, but I'm sure that with the right-"

The gym teacher sent Zack a glare that could cut steel. "The name is Guy. Mr. Guy, to you, Mr. Charming. Ha. That's ironic." He chuckled, seeming very proud of his attempt at humor. Then he leaned in close, the humor gone from his face. "I got my eye on you. You kids are all the same. You do drugs, you drink alcohol, you screw every girl you see, and yet we still gotta teach you that that stuff is bad. You know how much we hate that? We're like Anne Frank, hiding from the Nazis in the Cupboard Under the Stairs."

Zack had to fight to keep a straight face. "Sorry, didn't quite catch that. I was too busy dipping snuff-I mean, bending and extending." He squated and waddled around in a circle, in a crude imitation of the students around him. "You see, Mr. Dude, metaphors really aren't that effective on students unless they're accurate. And don't involve Anne Frank crossovers into Harry Potter." Zack moved forward to join the line of benders and extenders. "By the way, she was in an attic. Just to let you know." He winked, gave a little princessy wave, and was off.

"Mr. Guy," the teacher muttered wearily as he reached to retrieve his whistle.

[tinkerbell]

Lucy’s high blond ponytail bounced enthusiastically as she walked towards the gym…but she was nowhere near happy. After all, how could she be happy? For one thing, she was going to GYM. She was okay in gym, nice and athletic, but she just couldn’t feel whole there.

Because Cory wasn’t in that class.

It sounded ridiculous, talking about her and him as if they were one, but in all reality, they might as well have been. She was weak without him, like a part of her was missing. Class was an empty cell without his impish grin and his messy hair that was always sticking up in all the right places. She needed him to feel as if she had a purpose. And of course, she’d gotten stuck in the one gym class that included all her least favorite people.

Like Drake Sterling.

How she hated him. He was so easy to hate…an asshole, a druggie with the most fucked up girlfriend she’d ever seen. And he had the NERVE to think HE was better than Cory Henderson! As if that was even humanly possible! Something about Drake just made her want to punch something. He was so…serious. Not like Cory, with his adorable charm and a smile that could make her melt.

Then there was Zack.

She didn’t hate him per se, but she certainly didn’t like him either. He was arrogant…not that she couldn’t handle arrogance. After all, Cory was a master at that. But he was also just…rude. And Lucy didn’t like that.

The moment she walked in, she saw them both. Oh goody. There was Zack, telling off the teacher again, and Drake, in all his ugly druggie glory. She wanted to approach him, tell him off, but how could she do that without Cory to back her up? She took a deep breath.

“Hey Drake,” she chirped, trying to seem as innocent and helpful as possible. “Are you sure you’re gonna be able to handle gym? With your hand and everything? “

[NOVEMBER STARR]

November sighed as she changed into her gym clothes. A dingy T-shirt advertising the name of the school while also managing to advertise her chest, and shorts much too short to be seen anywhere but in a school gym or a street corner at two AM. That, the smell of obviously effective hormones in the B.O. filling the locker room, and the fact that she'd hurt her ankle in gym yesterday made a combination that was less than favorable. Don't get her wrong now, November actually liked Gym every once in a while. She felt that both a fit mind and body were necessary, plus, a fit body showed employers that you either had a naturally high metabolism, or that you were willing to work hard.

November walked into Gym trying to keep this mindset, but it was hard when so many people were slacking off allll theeee timmmme. Like Zack, for example. There he was, debating the point of this class with the teacher. Again. He was one of the strange ones who would rather be in class then doing this. So was she, but she still tried to look at it in a positive way...

Oh, here came another one. November blinked in surprise as Lucy approached Drake, and automatically followed her, interested in where the conversation might go without her idol here to protect the little blonde.

“Hey Drake,” she chirped, trying to seem as innocent and helpful as possible. “Are you sure you’re gonna be able to handle gym? With your hand and everything?"

Okay, now November was trying not to be personal about her dislike for the blonde, but she couldn't really help it when she was picking on a physical handicap that her victim truly couldn't help. Sighing, she moved to make a triangle with the two other students. "Lucy," she began, irritation getting the better of her. "Don't be a bitch just because Cory isn't here to leech onto." Honestly, the way she always hung around Cory did remind her of a leech, and it creeped her out immensely, but she'd never actually voiced this thought. "Because I'm sure that if he was in this class, you'd be to busy stalking him to even notice Drake, let alone talk to him," November finished, glaring at the girl. She didn't really feel like defending the druggie, but Lucy irked her, and Drake hadn't even DONE anything to Lucy today. For once, he was innocent.

Pulling her hair into the standard loose bun she was almost never seen without, she waited calmly and coolly for Lucy's almost inevitable retort.

[kate]

Hecks yes.

Cory ran out of the guidance counselor's office with a grin plastered on his face, a class transfer pass clutched tightly in his fist. His hair stood up straight as he bolted down the corridors of Baum Academy, not bothering to listen as the hall monitors yelled for him to slow down. Really now, they'd used that line so often on him that it had begun to lose meaning. Even the hall monitors themselves told him off as a sort of formality--they weren't really going to do anything about him at this point.

Nevertheless... "CORY, WALK IN THE HALLWAYS!"

Yeah, yeah.

Cory wasn't about to walk right now. He'd just successfully weaseled his way out of his Foods 1 class, and switched into gym. Yeah, he took gym last semester, and he didn't need the credit. But who wants to take foods when you can take gym?! Not Cory, that was for sure. I mean, take a look at this kid. Hardly a moment to sit still, Cory was more apt to constant physical activity. That's why he took fencing after school everyday (as the Academy gave them free time), so he didn't drive everyone nuts with his fidgety-ness.

Even better? Cory found out that his best friend (Lucy) and worst enemy/roommate (Drake) were in this class.

Again. Hecks. Yes.

Cory burst through the door to the locker room, claimed a locker and changed into the back-up gym clothes that the coach kept in his office for people who forgot their uniforms (don't worry, they're washed after every class). Tomorrow he'd bring in his own uniform, but for now, back-ups it was. The locker room was empty by the time he arrived, so he changed alone, tossed his clothes haphazardly into his locker, locked it, and ran out into the gymnasium.

He grinned. Oh, to be in gym class for a whole 'nother semester! Cory handed his class transfer pass to the coach with a smile. The coach, already red-faced and in a sour mood only frowned further. "You're here again?" He growled, looking between Cory and the kid, Zack, that he had just finished dealing with. "I just got rid of you!"

"Yup!" Cory grinned impishly, hands on his hips and feet apart in a strong stance (think Peter Pan here, folks). "I'm in this class for the rest of the year!" Cory had the sudden to urge to crow like a rooster.

That was weird.

Coughing a little, Cory turned and found Lucy... talking to Drake? He cocked his head. November was there, too.

"Don't be a bitch just because Cory isn't here to leech onto. Because I'm sure that if he was in this class, you'd be too busy stalking him to even notice Drake, let alone talk to him."

"Hey. November, cool it." Cory walked over to their odd little trio, his brows pulled into a scowl. He hadn't heard what Lucy said to Drake, so he was inclined to defend her. Of course, if he had heard what she said to Drake, Cory probably would have backed her 110%. "She doesn't leech!" He continued indignantly. He didn't quite understand her implications behind the comment, though, and went on to comment that "She's never sucked my blood or anything." Again, Cory looked a little confused, but decided to shrug it off.

Besides, Drake was there to taunt, and that was always good fun.

Noticing the volleyball nets, Cory grinned slyly. "Think you can actually beat me this semester, Drake?" Cocky? Check. Cory could handle cocky. And arrogant. And attention-whore. "I'll go easy on yah." He pulled his hand behind his back, sticking the other one towards Drakes face, palm open. "Even things out, a little? What d'you say?"

[hook]

Jesus, what the fuck was wrong with these people? Didn't that blonde THING know well enough to stick to her own little corner and keep out of his way?

“Hey Drake. Are you sure you’re gonna be able to handle gym? With your hand and everything? “

Okay, this bitch HAD to have some kind of death wish. If she was going around talking crap like that she was going down. NO ONE mentioned the hand, it was the elephant in the room that everyone knew better than to mention. People who did got. fucked. up.

There was DEFINITELY going to be a target with Lucy's name and picture on it that afternoon.

For now though, he was gonna try and grin and bear it, and rest assured knowing that she didn't have that friggin Cory kid around to defend her when he shot a volleyball into her face later that block.

"Don't be a bitch just because Cory isn't here to leech onto. Because I'm sure that if he was in this class, you'd be to busy stalking him to even notice Drake, let alone talk to him,"

Woah, who the hell was this? He vaguely remembered her from some brief glances in the hallway, but he was sure he'd never seen her in any of his classes. That meant two things. She was either

A) New, or
B) Friggin Smart,

Drake looked her over again. She actually looked pretty hot, so he was tempted to list her as new, because NO smart girl would be that good looking.

" What she said. Go screw yourself, puny, or you'll see what I still can do with this hand."

Drake was feeling pretty good about himself and he was just about to find out more about mysterious,heroic hot girl when HE came in. That friggin junior that didn't know how not to be a freaking dick ALL the time. God, and he was just so freaking PERKY and snide and just disgustingly chipper.

Honestly, WTF was up with him? Why the hell was he here? Shouldn't he be off in some other class or feeding that rat thing of his? As far as Drake knew he had had gym last semester, because he sure as hell hadn't been in health with Drake.

"Think you can actually beat me this semester, Drake? I'll go easy on yah. Even things out, a little? What d'you say?"

WHAT THE FUCK WAS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE? The first thing they can come up with is a snide comment about his hand? God, they were going to get put in aLOT of pain for that. The hand was an off limits topic and he was gonna show them just what happened to people who ignored the rules about it.

" How about this? Fuck off and I won't shoot you in between the eyes, asshole, kay?"

[ZACK CHARMING]

How about this? Fuck off and I won't shoot you in between the eyes, asshole, kay?

Well this looked interesting. "Mr. Dude," he called. "That druggie over there fucking swore! Mark my words, the APO will be hearing about this!"

Mr. Guy jogged over. "What makes you think that boy's a druggie, Zackary?"

Zack shrugged. "Look how fast his pupils are moving. He's obviously seeing stuff other than the gym we're in. Plus his face is red, so his heart must be pumping faster than normal, which wouldn't make sense since he hasn't been bending and extending like we're supposed to be doing. So he's obviously high." Zack smacked a hand to his forehead. "Duhhh." He sniffed. "Oh, and no offense is meant by this comment, but you do know that it is a tad hypocritical to teach kids not to do drugs and alcohol when you go home every night and host marathon miller-chugging in the basement."

Mr. Guy's face turned scarlet. "That is so not true, young man."

Zack shrugged. "Denial. If you weren't an alcoholic, you would've been confused and awkward. You never grade our papers, meaning that in your life, something must take priority over a job. So either you have a dying family member that you must visit 24/7, or you're an alcoholic. And seeing as you live alone, the later seems more likely." He winked again. "You can't have your cake and eat it too! Seriously though, ease up on the booze there, tiger."

Mr. Guy stared at Zack for a long time. "You are wrong," he growled. "You always think you're right, but you're wrong. You are so, so wrong. So just go bask in your wrongness, because that is how wrong you are."

Zack rolled his eyes and made his way to the druggie and his group of alleged homies. Zack was sure they hated him secretly, but it couldn't hurt to do some exploring. "Excuse me," he began. "Why are you all not bending and extending? You know that bending and extending is a skill of the utmost importance, in gym class as well as in life."

[tinkerbell]

Lucy gasped, her heart dropping a few levels. That hurt. That just hurt/

“I’m not a leech!” Lucy insisted, crossing her arms definitely. “Just because you have no friendships Drake doesn’t mean you can make fun of mine! All you have is that Veronica girl and all you do is stick your horrible drug infested tongue down her throat!”

And like magic, he appeared.

In all of his smooth talking, lopsided grin glory.

“CORY!” she cried happily. She almost hugged him…then remembered that she’d probably get another leech comment. But she really didn’t leech on him! She just…admired him. A lot. And thought he was cute. Like, really cute.

But that didn’t count as LEEECHING, did it? Or stalking? They just came as a package deal. That’s just the way it had always been. What they had was something special!

" How about this? Fuck off and I won't shoot you in between the eyes, asshole, kay?"

“Hey!” Lucy squealed angrily. “Don’t talk to Cory like that you…you stupid freak! He could kick your ass in anything and you’re just jealous!”

Then Zack just HAD to interupt.

"Excuse me," he began. "Why are you all not bending and extending? You know that bending and extending is a skill of the utmost importance, in gym class as well as in life."

“Right now, I think Cory will be working on bending and extending Drake’s neck,” she grinned. “Which shouldn’t be too hard, since he’s probably high.”

[NOVEMBER STARR]

" What she said. Go screw yourself, puny, or you'll see what I still can do with this hand."

November winced. She hadn't wanted to get violence out of this, and besides--

“I’m not a leech! Just because you have no friendships Drake doesn’t mean you can make fun of mine! All you have is that Veronica girl and all you do is stick your horrible drug infested tongue down her throat!”

'Erm... Hello? Real person who insulted you is this'a'way, blondie!' November thought, rolling her eyes and putting her hands on her hips in annoyance. And of course he had to show up just then.

“CORY!”

No need to screech, doll. We all have eyes here.

"Hey. November, cool it. She doesn't leech! She's never sucked my blood or anything."

........ What the fuck!? Didn't he get the insult out of that!? Arrrrrrgh, these people pissed her off!

"I'll go easy on yah." He pulled his hand behind his back, sticking the other one towards Drakes face, palm open. "Even things out, a little? What d'you say?"
"How about this? Fuck off and I won't shoot you in between the eyes, asshole, kay?"

November nodded in approval, changing positions to crossing her arms. She didn't particularly like Drake, but he didn't completely tick her off like the clingy blonde that was Lucy and the eternally STUPID Cory Henderson. Oh, and here came another irksome person. Again, not as much as the others, but the arrogantly intelligent Zackary Charming was the last person she wanted joining this discussion.

“Right now, I think Cory will be working on bending and extending Drake’s neck. Which shouldn’t be too hard, since he’s probably high.”

Was all they could come up with really violence? "You know what, blondie? Your blood bank's already here, so go drink your fill and leave us the fuck alone," November said to Lucy, wondering why she'd grouped herself with Drake. True, things might turn bad any second, and she didn't want to have a fight, so getting the people who started the argument to leave was logical. But there was still Zack. Annoying as hell, but she didn't really mind him enough to punch him as much as she truly truly wanted to punch someone right now.

Meanwhile, Drake had started looking at her strangely, and she suddenly remembered that she truly wasn't in her element here. November hardly knew Drake, and from the once-over he had given her, she wasn't sure he even knew her name. "Anyways..." she mumbled, picking up a volleyball and managing to spike it not only over the net twenty feet from them, but have it hit the wall and bounce then roll its way back to stop at her feet. Her urge to hit something or someone might as well have been channelled into the curriculum, though it was now very obvious just how hard she'd wanted to punch Lucy Barry square in the face.

[kate]

Cory pulled his hand away from Drake's face at his bitter reaction. An out of character frown pulled at his lips, and looking slightly taken aback by Drake's words, he said, "Awe c'mon. I'm only playing." He scuffed his shoes a little against the gym floor, looking positively hurt. "I thought a little competition would be fun..." He looked up, grinning again, and winked. "...Roomie." Lucy added a few quick comments that warranted her a secret high five. Cory discreetly tapped her hand, laughed, and then spun away from the group just as Zack and November made their own entrances.

Cory jogged away from the group, not really having the intention to pick a fight. Not that he didn't like fighting. Fighting was fun. But fun was more fun, he thought in his childish logic, and that's what gym class was for. Not for drama. For FUN! And volleyball, which was today's activity. Hee hee. Cory loved volleyball. Who ever said white man can't jump? This boy had ups.

Not to toot his own horn (for once), but Cory was pretty talented in the sports category. He played with the enthusiasm equal to an elementary schooler, when recess is never long enough and you miraculously never tire out. Other people in the class had begun, begrudgingly, to warm up, jogging a few laps around the gym, or stretching. Cory was too jittery to bother warming up, so instead he scooped up a volleyball from the basket and popped it up to himself while the classmates he abandoned continued their funny little non-fight. Or was it a fight? Probably. Drake seemed pretty serious, anyway.

Oh shoot. He should probably go rescue Lucy, then.

"Lucy!" Cory shouted from across the net on the other side of the gym. "You'll be my partner, right?" It wasn't really a question that required an answer though, and he jumped up and set the ball over to her side of the net. "Ditch them, c'mon, let's play!"

[hook]

Drake growled incomprehensibly. He hated that that jerkoff Cory could make him hate the gym class that he was supposed to use as a way to lay back and relax. This was his friggin' favorite class and yet that PRICK had to go and ruin it for him. Jesus, why the fuck was he even here? Shouldn't he have been in some other godforsaken class? He had taken gym LAST semester, he had NO right to be here and fuck up Drake's good time.

Ugh, what the fuck ever. He would deal with them later. Right now he had a hot mystery woman who felt it her duty to protect poor little Drake. under ormal circumstances, Drake would have been pissed at this and demanded that she let him fight his own goddamned battles, but a girl with a level of hotness THAT high brought with her a sort of get out of jail free card. Drake could afford to cut her a little slack.

Well, of course he had a few other things and people to take care of before he could really start putting the moves on little miss hottie.

" Yeah, listen, dick, you can fuckin' bend and extend your ass all you want. I'm gonna do whatever the hell I want, kay?"

He turned back to the hot girl, ready to start pouring it on.

" Hey. So. You, uh, you been goin' here long?"

[ZACK CHARMING]

Snide comments and comebacks ran through Zack’s head like a perpetual babbling stream, but at this point he had eyes for none but the red-faced gym teacher who was currently huffing and puffing as hard as he could into his little black whistle, sliding it across his bottom lip in between tweets. Zack tapped him on the shoulder. “I think it works,” he whispered conspiratorially.

Mr. Guy turned to glare at him, face ablaze. He opened his mouth to speak, but Zack beat him to the punch. “You do know that you can’t technically lose your virg-“

Mr. Guy raised a fist as if to strike him, then lowered it. “Twelve laps, Charming. Rest of you, partner up and pass.”

Zack almost laughed out loud, but restrained himself with difficulty. “Mr. Dude, are you aware of the jurisprudence known as the Fair Labor Standards Enactment?” Zack wagged an admonishing forefinger. “Technically, I could report you for that. Such malignity in one gymnasium. Ah, the horror, the horror!” He feigned anguish for a few seconds, then made a face. “In all sobriety though, running’s not really my thing.” His eyes widened in mock surprise, as if he’d just had a revelation. “I’ve got it! How about you run the laps, and work off that extra pack of Marlborough Lites you inhaled last night. Oh wait.” He covered his mouth in mock shame. “You probably didn’t want pepole to know that, did you? After all, if someone found out something like that about a health teacher, it could just get them fired, couldn’t it?” He winked cheerily. “And wouldn’t that just be a tragedy?”

A shrill screech resounded throughout the gym as Mr. Guy bellowed into his whistle. “Everyone look here!” he hollered. Zack, stifling laughter, made eye contact. The epitome of ignoramosity is teaching my gym class, he thought tho himself, moving in closer to join the group.

“Okay everyone, we’re going to be picking volleyball teams. Captains are going to be, um, you, and you.” He jabbed a stumpy finger at the malapert brunette and the little blonde chick who looked like she belonged in one of those despicable Nicholas Sparks films. “You pick first,” he commanded. “Oh, and you pick Charming, you fail the semester.”