What's in your pencil case? (Patrick Hockstetter)

Little Violence (Part 11)

I'll paint you a picture with words, "I miss her."(Part Of Me)

"I'm fine, Mom.", was Stan's immediate reply. Mrs. Uris must have checked on him many times already. "Didn't your parents teach you not to lie?", she stepped inside, once more trying to ease the pain at his miserable appearance by shielding it with lighthearted jokes. She didn't feel light-hearted. In fact, the whole guilt of the plasters and different hues of greens and blues dispersed on his upper body lasted heavy on her stomach. Not to mention his bruised face. Stan promptly covered his body with his blanket. "What are you doing here?", he almost shrieked, his voice cracking at about half the sentence.

"I came to apologize. It was never my intention to make you their target. I swear, Stanley. You're such a nice guy and...I brought you soup. Here.", she changed the subject awkwardly after finding herself at loss for the right words. Stanley just avoided her gaze. "I'm sorry I believed them. Just after defending you for so long, finding out that you've been...well you know what with Bowers. Kinda surprising, but I guess you can figure it out on your own. Thank you for the soup though."

She approached his bed and sat down on the edge, forcing him to look up to her. "Stanley, this is serious, what did you hear about me and Bowers?"
The boy was clearly uncomfortable with the question, squirming under her demanding glare. "Well..you did it. On the toilet, the caretaker caught you. And some pupil walked by and told his friends who told his friends...", he trailed off, still awkwardly looking anywhere but to her. A faint blush grazed his cheeks at the topic. She groaned. This couldn't be happening.

"And Patrick?", she interrogated. "He did that, right?" Though she tried her best to sound tough, her voice wavered saying his name in that context. She gestured vaguely at the countless injuries that grazed Stanley's torso and head. Stanley had noticed her waver, but simply nodded, not knowing what to do with that piece of information.

Stan had been talking with Richie's neighbour -she really wasn't such a stuck-up b**** like Richie had always told them- about anything from the upcoming Derry exhibition and school to their own hobbies, when they noticed they had to hurry to class. Stan had dropped her off at her classroom, both teens parting with laughter about an impression she did of her teacher in a rush. Their teachers never had enough time. They all appeared to rather be anywhere else, but god forbid someone actually brought change. Turning around to go to his own classroom Stan still wore a small smile. He had been right about her, when he pledged her cause to Richie. The other boy just let his jealousy get in the way of his judgement. But honestly, Stan wouldn't mind her as an addition to their group of friends. She even asked about his indulgence in birdwatching. Genuinely interested on top of that. No, Stanley Uris would never associate the ugly picture Richie had painted of her character with this friendly, cheerful girl.

Suddenly his pondering was interrupted. A firm grip on his shirt yanked him back. Fingers dug deep into his skin. "You come with me, flamer!" And there he was: Patrick Hockstetter, the psycho nobody wanted to be the focus of. Almost nobody, but Stanley didn't know that useful piece of information yet. "What did she say to laugh like that?", he harshly interrogated, while dragging Stan down the hallways and out of the school building. Most students had already been in class and therefore not seen the abduction, but those who did , knew better than to interfere. Nobody wanted to face the wrath of Patrick Hockstetter. And this time truly nobody.

"What's it to you?", Stan spat, feeling protective over the girl who he had failed the first time around. Especially now that she had turned out to be so nice. "It's you that should stay away from her. She's got better options anyway." He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth and Patrick shoved him down the stairs of the school entrance. "You'll regret that, Uris. Now tell me who." Fighting for his consciousness Stan remained silent. "Who has she been with?", Patrick repeated more forcefully. Frustrated he pulled Stan's limp body up and glared him straight in the eyes: "I'll find it out on my own and when I'm done I'll come back and kill you." Anger and another vile emotion Stan couldn't pinpoint clouded Patrick with a dark aura. Then sharp pain shot through him. Patrick's fist had collided with Stan's nose, creating an ugly cracking sound.