Here For the Credit • Gawsten (boyxboy)

Chapter 1: Zumiez Worker Reject

disclaimer: this is all fiction. it's not real. no disrespect to the band members/their girlfriends.

January 2nd, 2018

"Awsten, I'm afraid you have to re-take your required extracurricular activity this year." The principle spoke, words slightly slurred - his voice tended to do that, but not in a charming way like someone with a lisp, but rather a way that made Awsten want to cry because it was so ridiculously annoying.

His receeding hairline (which Awsten refused would eventually happen to him) and his weird bolo ties were annoying enough as it was, but the voice just added that extra irritation to Awsten's pre-existing edgy mood.

The teenager's two-toned eyes trailed around the small office he was stuck in for the time being. The back wall, brick that was covered with sloppily done, beige-colored paint, was crowded with dozens of trophies and ribbons, as well as a few college graduate degrees that he could only assume were the principle's. After all, they did say his name on them.

"Wait, what? Why?" Awsten replied, snapping out of his daze and adjusting his snapback awkwardly. "I don't understand, I- shit! " (his longboard fell from it's resting place against his chair, causing him to forcibly re-roll it into place), "Er, sorry. What I'm not getting here, Robbie, is why I need to join a club when I already did soccer last year, junior year."

The principle sighed loudly, lacing his fingers together awkwardly. "Awsten, you went to the first meet and skipped the rest of the year, you didn't show up to a single meeting after it. You weren't even there for yearbook photos. It doesn't count if you skip more than five meetings without decent reasons. And it's Principle Charbonneau to you."

"I do have reasons!" Awsten gasped dramatically. His best friend did theatre - he knew how to liven it up when necessary. "My dog died - I was in grieving, Robbie."

"Your dog died 32 times?" The principle asked, eyebrows raised, seemingly done with Awsten's complete and utter bullshit at this point. Awsten froze, he wasn't really expecting that response.

Awsten was just thankful his mom was at work instead of here to witness this conversation, because he was definitely in deep shit.

"Uhm... Actually, I owned 32 dogs. They all tragically passed, week by week. True story. It was an unfortunate year." Awsten mumbled, the previous confidence temporarily gone.

The principal smirked. "Well, good thing they're all, er, deceased now because you miss a single meeting of GSA this year and you don't graduate. You see, it's January, and I'm afraid that no other clubs are still accepting members at this point in the year."

Awsten's eyes widened as he reached down by his ankles, grabbing a monster energy drink that he'd brought in his bag. He undid it and took a heavily caffeinated sip, his other hand's finger pointing towards the ceiling. "Okay, one, that's cruel. Two, what if my dog actually dies or something? And three, what the fuck is a GSA?"

The principle coughed obnoxiously, as if he were about to announce something highly important, and replied. "Please watch your language and refrain from drinking carbonated beverages in my office, Mr Knight. However, GSA stands for Gay Straight Alliance, or Gender Sexuality Alliance. Can never remember which one our school chose." He responded, trailing off. "Perhaps both."

Awsten's face scrunched up slightly, head leaning toward slightly as he turned it upwards. "What?" He asked. "Sir, I-I'm not gay. I'm like, super masculine. Can't you see? I have my longboard here and everything. I can't join a club for gay people... That's not how this works. Aren't I like, tearing away their safe space or whatever?"