Fueled by Ramen's High School Musical
Detention; Wentz Style.
“So,” Ryan said with a smirk, leaning down a bit so that he could talk to William through the gap under some of the lab equipment in the chemistry classroom. “It seemed like you knew Gabe Saporta.”
“Not really,” William answered, concentrating on his work. “He was just showing me around.”
“Well,” Ryan laughed. “Gabe doesn’t usually interact with uh…new students.”
“Why not?” William asked, glancing at the board and back down at his paper.
“Well, it’s pretty much basketball twenty-four-seven with him.”
“That should be sixteen over pi,” William mumbled, looking at the board.
“Yes, Mister Beckett?” the teacher said, apparently having heard him.
“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just…uh…shouldn’t the second equation read sixteen over pi?”
“Sixteen over pi? That’s…quite impossible,” the teacher laughed, shaking her head, but pressed a few buttons on her calculator to make sure. “I stand corrected!” William smiled proudly, looking at his own paper while Victoria sat next to him, eyeing him.
“Oh,” the teacher added, “And welcome aboard.”
Ryan’s mouth hung open as he glared at William, backing away and sitting up straight again, tapping his fingers against the table.
***
Gabe walked through the halls, glancing around the make sure none of his friends were around before pausing, turning, and staring at the winter musical sign-up sheet. He wasn’t sure how long he had stared at it, but finally he walked away, just as Ryan turned a corner into the same hallway.
Patrick, who had seen Gabe the entire time, rushed up to Ryan, grabbing his arm.
“Gabe Saporta was looking at our audition list!” he revealed.
“Again?!” Ryan asked. “You know, he was hanging around with that new boy and they were both looking at the list!” Patrick’s face contorted into deep thought as Ryan went on. “There’s something freaky about him. Where’d he say he’s from?” Ryan asked, but Patrick was still deep in thought, so Ryan huffed, stomping away, Patrick finally snapping out of it and rushing after him.
***
‘William Beckett,’ Ryan typed into the search engine, hitting the button. The first result that popped up came from William’s previous high school.
“Whiz Kid Leads School to Scholastic Championships.”
Ryan clicked the link, letting the page load.
“Wow,” Patrick commented, impressed. “An Einstein. So why do you think he’s interested in our musical?”
“I’m not sure that he is,” Ryan said. “And we needn’t concern ourselves with amateurs. But…there is no harm in making /certain/ that William is welcomed to the school activities that are…more appropriate for him,” he laughed, clicking the ‘print’ button on the screen.
“After all, he loves pi,” he added, standing up and walking over to the printer, grabbing the paper with a smirk.
***
DETENTION; WENTZ STYLE
“Gold! More gold!” Wentz yelled at a girl sewing a costume. He stalked around, inspecting everyone who had landed a spot in detention. “Paint! Paint! Let’s go!”
“The answer is yes!” Victoria practically yelled, rushing up to William, a paper in her hand.
“Huh?” William asked, confused.
“Our scholastic decathlon team has its first competition next week and there is /certainly/ a spot for you!”
“Where did those come from?” William asked, spotting the printed papers of his past achievements in her hand.
“Didn’t you…put them in my locker?”
“Of course not.”
“Oh. Well…we’d love to have you on our team. We meet almost every day after school,” Victoria told him, and just as he was about to object, she cut him off. “/Please/?!”
“I need to catch up on the curriculum here…before I think about joining any clubs.”
“Well, what a perfect way to get caught up!” Ryan interrupted, walking over towards them. “Meeting with the smartest kids in school. What a generous offer, Victoria!”
“So many new faces in detention today!” Wentz said loudly. “I hope you don’t make a habit of it, but! The drama club can always use an extra hand. And while we are working, let us probe the mounting evils of cell phones!”
Gabe rolled his eyes, stapling a fake leaf to a fake tree. He couldn’t believe that he was missing basketball for this.
***
“Guys! Huddle up!” Coach Saporta called out, the basketball players all circling around him. “We’ve got two weeks till the big game! …Where’s Gabe and Travis?” he asked, looking around. The rest of the team stayed silent. “Don’t make me ask again,” he warned. “WHERE’S GABE AND TRAVIS?!”
“Detention,” the rest of the team mumbled out. The coach huffed, shaking his head before stomping out of the gym.
***
“Perhaps the most heinous example of cell phone abuse is ringing in the theatre!” Wentz went on. Gabe lowered one of the fake leaves down to below where Travis had fallen asleep inside the tree, just his face poking out from the hole, and tickling his nose with the paper. “What temerity! The theatre is a temple of art! A precious cornucopia of creative energy!”
“Where’s my team, Wentz?!” Coach Saporta’s voice boomed through the auditorium as he stormed in. Gabe immediately sat up from his current position of lazily laying in the tree, and Travis’s eyes snapped open.
“What the hell are those two doing in a tree?!”
“It’s called crime and punishment, Saporta. Besides, proximity to the arts in cleansing for the soul!”
“Can we have a talk?” Coach Saporta asked, gesturing between himself and Wentz. “Please? And you two? In the gym? NOW,” he yelled, and Gabe climbed out of the tree, grabbing Travis from inside of it, pulling him out, and they hurried away, Travis clutching his beloved basketball to his chest.
***
“If they have to paint sets for detention, they can do it tonight! Not during my practice!” Coach Saporta grieved to the school’s principal.
“If these were theatre performers instead of athletes, would you seek special treatment?!” Wentz retorted.
“Wentz! We are days away from our biggest game of the year.”
“And we, Saporta, are in the midst of our auditions for our winter musicàl, as well! This school is about more than just young men in baggy shorts flinging balls for touchdowns!”
“Baskets!” Saporta yelled. “They shoot baskets!”
“Stop!” the principal interrupted. “Guys, listen. You’ve been having this argument since the day you both started teaching here. We are one school. One student body. One faculty. Can we not agree on that?!”
Wentz huffed, looking over at Coach Saporta, who glared back at Wentz.
“So, Coach,” the principal went on. “How’s the team looking? Gabe got ‘em whipped into shape?”
Wentz groaned dramatically, shaking his head in disbelief.
***
A basketball flew through a hoop as the whistle blew, and Coach Saporta caught the ball as the team turned their attention to him.
“West High Knights have knocked us out of the play-offs three years running. And now we are one game away from taking that championship right back from them! It’s time to make our stand. The team is you. You are the team. And this team does not exist unless each and every one of you is fully focused on our goal! Am I clear?”
“What team?” Travis yelled out.
“Wildcats!” the rest of the team yelled out.
“What team?!”
“Wildcats!”
“What team?!”
“Wildcats!”
“Wildcats,” Travis yelled again, as they all huddled around Coach Saporta, putting their hands on the basketball.
“Get your head in the game!”
***
“We’ve never made it past the first round of the Scholastic Decathlon,” Victoria told William as they walked outside. “You could be our answered prayer.”
“I’m gonna focus on my studies this semester. And help my mom get the new house organized. Maybe next year.”
“But--”
“What do you know about Gave Saporta?” William suddenly asked, cutting Victoria off.
“Gabe?” Victoria repeated, raising her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t consider myself an expert in that particular subspecies. However, unless you speak Cheerleader…,” she trailed off, as they reached a group of girls in red and white cheerleading outfits.
“Ohmygod!” Victoria squealed to the group. “Isn’t Gabe Saporta just…the hottest thing ever?!”
And just like that, the group of cheerleaders all started squealing and flailing as well, and Victoria made her way out of the group, back towards William. The cheerleaders continued to squeal and flail.
“See what I mean?” she asked him.
“I guess I wouldn’t know how to speak Cheerleader,” he laughed.
“Which is why we exist in an alternate universe to Gabe the basketball boy.”
“Have you tried to get to know him?” William asked.
“Watch how it works in the cafeteria tomorrow when you have lunch with us. Unless you’d rather sit with the cheerleaders in the disgusting importance of firm nailbeds.”
“My nailbeds are history,” William said, holding his hands up, and Victoria mimicked him, smiling.
“Mine too!” she giggled.
***
Back at home, Gabe was outside in his backyard on the mini-basketball court that had been built when he was just a kid, practicing, running around, and shooting hoops with his dad/coach.
“I still don’t understand this whole detention thing,” his dad said.
“It was my fault,” Gabe explained, leaning down, his hands on his knees, out of breath. “Sorry, dad.”
“Across the court,” he instructed, and Gabe did as he was told, running over and catching the basketball that his dad threw to him.
“You know, Wentz will take any opportunity to bust my nuts. And that includes yours, too.”
Gabe threw the ball, watching it fly in the air and right through the net, and his dad caught it as it came out.
“Hey, Dad?” Gabe asked, as the ball came back his way and he caught it. “Did you ever think about trying something new…. But were afraid of what your friends might think?”
“You mean like going left? You’re doing fine. C’mon.”
Gabe decided to drop the matter, and went to move, but then decided against his decision to drop the matter, and stopped.
“Well…no. I mean, what if you want to try something really new. And…it’s a total disaster and all your friends laugh at you?” he asked, and his dad thought for a moment.
“Well then, maybe they’re not really your friends,” he said, and Gabe looked completely disheartened. “You know, that was my whole point about team today. You guys gotta look out for each other. And you’re the leader!”
“Yeah, but Dad, I’m not talking--”
“You know, there’s gonna be college scouts at the game next week, Gabe. You know what a scholarship is worth these days?”
Gabe nodded, sighing. “ A lot.”
“Right. Focus, Gabe. C’mon.”
Gabe sighed again and nodded again, giving up, and turning back to play the game, jumping up and shooting the ball into the basket.
“Not really,” William answered, concentrating on his work. “He was just showing me around.”
“Well,” Ryan laughed. “Gabe doesn’t usually interact with uh…new students.”
“Why not?” William asked, glancing at the board and back down at his paper.
“Well, it’s pretty much basketball twenty-four-seven with him.”
“That should be sixteen over pi,” William mumbled, looking at the board.
“Yes, Mister Beckett?” the teacher said, apparently having heard him.
“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just…uh…shouldn’t the second equation read sixteen over pi?”
“Sixteen over pi? That’s…quite impossible,” the teacher laughed, shaking her head, but pressed a few buttons on her calculator to make sure. “I stand corrected!” William smiled proudly, looking at his own paper while Victoria sat next to him, eyeing him.
“Oh,” the teacher added, “And welcome aboard.”
Ryan’s mouth hung open as he glared at William, backing away and sitting up straight again, tapping his fingers against the table.
***
Gabe walked through the halls, glancing around the make sure none of his friends were around before pausing, turning, and staring at the winter musical sign-up sheet. He wasn’t sure how long he had stared at it, but finally he walked away, just as Ryan turned a corner into the same hallway.
Patrick, who had seen Gabe the entire time, rushed up to Ryan, grabbing his arm.
“Gabe Saporta was looking at our audition list!” he revealed.
“Again?!” Ryan asked. “You know, he was hanging around with that new boy and they were both looking at the list!” Patrick’s face contorted into deep thought as Ryan went on. “There’s something freaky about him. Where’d he say he’s from?” Ryan asked, but Patrick was still deep in thought, so Ryan huffed, stomping away, Patrick finally snapping out of it and rushing after him.
***
‘William Beckett,’ Ryan typed into the search engine, hitting the button. The first result that popped up came from William’s previous high school.
“Whiz Kid Leads School to Scholastic Championships.”
Ryan clicked the link, letting the page load.
“Wow,” Patrick commented, impressed. “An Einstein. So why do you think he’s interested in our musical?”
“I’m not sure that he is,” Ryan said. “And we needn’t concern ourselves with amateurs. But…there is no harm in making /certain/ that William is welcomed to the school activities that are…more appropriate for him,” he laughed, clicking the ‘print’ button on the screen.
“After all, he loves pi,” he added, standing up and walking over to the printer, grabbing the paper with a smirk.
***
DETENTION; WENTZ STYLE
“Gold! More gold!” Wentz yelled at a girl sewing a costume. He stalked around, inspecting everyone who had landed a spot in detention. “Paint! Paint! Let’s go!”
“The answer is yes!” Victoria practically yelled, rushing up to William, a paper in her hand.
“Huh?” William asked, confused.
“Our scholastic decathlon team has its first competition next week and there is /certainly/ a spot for you!”
“Where did those come from?” William asked, spotting the printed papers of his past achievements in her hand.
“Didn’t you…put them in my locker?”
“Of course not.”
“Oh. Well…we’d love to have you on our team. We meet almost every day after school,” Victoria told him, and just as he was about to object, she cut him off. “/Please/?!”
“I need to catch up on the curriculum here…before I think about joining any clubs.”
“Well, what a perfect way to get caught up!” Ryan interrupted, walking over towards them. “Meeting with the smartest kids in school. What a generous offer, Victoria!”
“So many new faces in detention today!” Wentz said loudly. “I hope you don’t make a habit of it, but! The drama club can always use an extra hand. And while we are working, let us probe the mounting evils of cell phones!”
Gabe rolled his eyes, stapling a fake leaf to a fake tree. He couldn’t believe that he was missing basketball for this.
***
“Guys! Huddle up!” Coach Saporta called out, the basketball players all circling around him. “We’ve got two weeks till the big game! …Where’s Gabe and Travis?” he asked, looking around. The rest of the team stayed silent. “Don’t make me ask again,” he warned. “WHERE’S GABE AND TRAVIS?!”
“Detention,” the rest of the team mumbled out. The coach huffed, shaking his head before stomping out of the gym.
***
“Perhaps the most heinous example of cell phone abuse is ringing in the theatre!” Wentz went on. Gabe lowered one of the fake leaves down to below where Travis had fallen asleep inside the tree, just his face poking out from the hole, and tickling his nose with the paper. “What temerity! The theatre is a temple of art! A precious cornucopia of creative energy!”
“Where’s my team, Wentz?!” Coach Saporta’s voice boomed through the auditorium as he stormed in. Gabe immediately sat up from his current position of lazily laying in the tree, and Travis’s eyes snapped open.
“What the hell are those two doing in a tree?!”
“It’s called crime and punishment, Saporta. Besides, proximity to the arts in cleansing for the soul!”
“Can we have a talk?” Coach Saporta asked, gesturing between himself and Wentz. “Please? And you two? In the gym? NOW,” he yelled, and Gabe climbed out of the tree, grabbing Travis from inside of it, pulling him out, and they hurried away, Travis clutching his beloved basketball to his chest.
***
“If they have to paint sets for detention, they can do it tonight! Not during my practice!” Coach Saporta grieved to the school’s principal.
“If these were theatre performers instead of athletes, would you seek special treatment?!” Wentz retorted.
“Wentz! We are days away from our biggest game of the year.”
“And we, Saporta, are in the midst of our auditions for our winter musicàl, as well! This school is about more than just young men in baggy shorts flinging balls for touchdowns!”
“Baskets!” Saporta yelled. “They shoot baskets!”
“Stop!” the principal interrupted. “Guys, listen. You’ve been having this argument since the day you both started teaching here. We are one school. One student body. One faculty. Can we not agree on that?!”
Wentz huffed, looking over at Coach Saporta, who glared back at Wentz.
“So, Coach,” the principal went on. “How’s the team looking? Gabe got ‘em whipped into shape?”
Wentz groaned dramatically, shaking his head in disbelief.
***
A basketball flew through a hoop as the whistle blew, and Coach Saporta caught the ball as the team turned their attention to him.
“West High Knights have knocked us out of the play-offs three years running. And now we are one game away from taking that championship right back from them! It’s time to make our stand. The team is you. You are the team. And this team does not exist unless each and every one of you is fully focused on our goal! Am I clear?”
“What team?” Travis yelled out.
“Wildcats!” the rest of the team yelled out.
“What team?!”
“Wildcats!”
“What team?!”
“Wildcats!”
“Wildcats,” Travis yelled again, as they all huddled around Coach Saporta, putting their hands on the basketball.
“Get your head in the game!”
***
“We’ve never made it past the first round of the Scholastic Decathlon,” Victoria told William as they walked outside. “You could be our answered prayer.”
“I’m gonna focus on my studies this semester. And help my mom get the new house organized. Maybe next year.”
“But--”
“What do you know about Gave Saporta?” William suddenly asked, cutting Victoria off.
“Gabe?” Victoria repeated, raising her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t consider myself an expert in that particular subspecies. However, unless you speak Cheerleader…,” she trailed off, as they reached a group of girls in red and white cheerleading outfits.
“Ohmygod!” Victoria squealed to the group. “Isn’t Gabe Saporta just…the hottest thing ever?!”
And just like that, the group of cheerleaders all started squealing and flailing as well, and Victoria made her way out of the group, back towards William. The cheerleaders continued to squeal and flail.
“See what I mean?” she asked him.
“I guess I wouldn’t know how to speak Cheerleader,” he laughed.
“Which is why we exist in an alternate universe to Gabe the basketball boy.”
“Have you tried to get to know him?” William asked.
“Watch how it works in the cafeteria tomorrow when you have lunch with us. Unless you’d rather sit with the cheerleaders in the disgusting importance of firm nailbeds.”
“My nailbeds are history,” William said, holding his hands up, and Victoria mimicked him, smiling.
“Mine too!” she giggled.
***
Back at home, Gabe was outside in his backyard on the mini-basketball court that had been built when he was just a kid, practicing, running around, and shooting hoops with his dad/coach.
“I still don’t understand this whole detention thing,” his dad said.
“It was my fault,” Gabe explained, leaning down, his hands on his knees, out of breath. “Sorry, dad.”
“Across the court,” he instructed, and Gabe did as he was told, running over and catching the basketball that his dad threw to him.
“You know, Wentz will take any opportunity to bust my nuts. And that includes yours, too.”
Gabe threw the ball, watching it fly in the air and right through the net, and his dad caught it as it came out.
“Hey, Dad?” Gabe asked, as the ball came back his way and he caught it. “Did you ever think about trying something new…. But were afraid of what your friends might think?”
“You mean like going left? You’re doing fine. C’mon.”
Gabe decided to drop the matter, and went to move, but then decided against his decision to drop the matter, and stopped.
“Well…no. I mean, what if you want to try something really new. And…it’s a total disaster and all your friends laugh at you?” he asked, and his dad thought for a moment.
“Well then, maybe they’re not really your friends,” he said, and Gabe looked completely disheartened. “You know, that was my whole point about team today. You guys gotta look out for each other. And you’re the leader!”
“Yeah, but Dad, I’m not talking--”
“You know, there’s gonna be college scouts at the game next week, Gabe. You know what a scholarship is worth these days?”
Gabe nodded, sighing. “ A lot.”
“Right. Focus, Gabe. C’mon.”
Gabe sighed again and nodded again, giving up, and turning back to play the game, jumping up and shooting the ball into the basket.
♠ ♠ ♠
So yes, I do realize that it has been nine months since the last time I updated this. NINE. MONTHS. Someone could have conceived and given birth to a child since the last time I updated this. But you know what? I have a VERY legit reason for the reason I didn't update.It might be a bit tl;dr, so if you don't care, you can just skip over the next paragraph.
You see, when I started writing this, I was living at the house I'd been living in for several years, and my method of writing this consisted of popping my HSM DVD into my laptop so I could steal the dialogue from it and then I would update from my laptop. But then I had some family drama and I had to move with my mom to her boyfriend's house. That house does not have wireless internet, nor does it have a place for me to hook my laptop up to the internet. No big deal, though, right? Just write the damn story on the desktop computer. But no. Because, you see, the desktop computer at my mom's boyfriend's house does not have a working DVD player. Or a working CD Drive, for that matter. I nagged and I nagged to get the thing fixed, but did it ever happen? No. It didn't. I tried putting the DVD on the television and writing that way, but it just didn't work. It was too hard and I couldn't do it. But then! Months and months later, it's time for me to move away to college. And I get a new laptop! And I get to college and the laptop connects to internet and I can put DVDs in the laptop! So now I'm back. For good.
I hope you still enjoy this.