Boy Wonder

Corey

Clearly, Lady Luck didn't like him very much. Not only did he have to impatiently wait almost four minutes for three obnoxiously chatty idiots to realize they were blocking the vending machine and leave without so much as an apology, but then once he finally got to the damned thing, it was out of chips. And he meant completely out. There was nothing. He would've even settled for Sun Chips, as vile as they were, but it was completely empty of everything but oatmeal raisin cookies and a single health bar made with spinach that he knew had been in there since the beginning of the school year. It was crooked in the slot, half fallen out, which was why it was so unmistakable. Gross. Both the fact it had been there so long and just in general. Popeye surely was messed up in the head to eat spinach willingly, and so much of it at that. Corey would rather keel over and die than consume that horrendous vegetable.

Groaning, he decided to head back to the study hall. At least there, he'd be mostly unbothered. Kids typically left him alone anyways, as Corey excelled at blending into the background and practically becoming invisible. It was much easier than actually dealing with his problems, or, god forbid, other people. Which were also classified as problems, just extra bad ones. Ugh. Dealing with people was too much effort, way too much effort. Especially when he practically ran on four hours of sleep most days. He had no energy to spare on morons and preppy brats. Or on anyone, really. Dealing with Leah was hard enough. Who knew fourteen years olds could talk so much?

He shuffled his way through the halls, turning into the study hall and settling at an indiscriminate table. There was about fifteen minutes until lunch ended, so he could get in a decent nap at the very least. Lord knows he didn't sleep enough as it was, which only made his pale complexion even ghastlier. His sister liked to joke about seeing a ghost nearly every time she entered the same room as him. The joke was never funny, and never would be, but Leah didn't care. Typical Leah. She'd probably get along just fine with Prince Charming and his terrible jokes. Thankfully the study hall was mostly empty save a few stragglers and the occasional actually studious kid. The "study hall" was better known as the "rest hall" to most of the student body. It was more common to see students sleeping in there rather than studying. Which was exactly what Corey was planning on doing, too.

Corey laid his head down and closed his eyes, nearly asleep when a sudden 'bang' jolted him away. A flier was slammed down on the table in front of his face, and his nose wrinkled as he scanned the contents. A recruitment flier for drama club. Only one person would have any reason to bother him with this. "For the last time, Penny. I said no." He scowled, looking up at the perpetrator who ruined what could've been a perfectly good nap. Penelope Jennings was the most persistent person he'd ever had the misfortune of knowing, and she was especially stubborn when it came to theater. Particularly him and theater.

"Come on, Corey! We both know you want to."

"It's not a matter of want, it's a matter of ability. And no, I don't want to." He huffed, glaring at her. Penny was taller than most other girls and some guys, being an inch taller than Corey himself. Her hair was almost always in a messy bun, orange strands falling loose throughout the day. Thin, way too round glasses perched on top of her small nose, and she glared right back at him with her amber eyes. Penny was gutsy, alright. Not many would have the audacity to glare back at him, but he respected that about her. Not that he'd ever tell her that.

"If it's ability we're judging, then you're even more qualified and we both know it."

"You know I meant as in availability." That comment only made Penny groan, one hand resting on her cheek in exasperation. Still, she held her ground, refusing to fall to Corey's harsh sarcasm and remarks. "I don't get why you won't do it! You were born to be on stage, Corey. Everyone who's seen you act knows it!" Penny insisted, her hands hitting the table again as she leaned down closer. The action made her glasses slip down a bit, but she made no move to push them up.

Corey rolled his eyes, sighing. Truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to join the drama club, to get on that stage and become immersed in the role, in the lines. There was nothing quite like it. Getting to know a character so intimately, learning all their emotions and expressions.. He didn't even need the applause. It was acting itself that had stolen his heart back in middle school, when he'd impulsively joined in the seventh grade. He did two years of drama club and he loved every second of it. Being on that stage, knowing that he was able to tell a convincing story with his acting.. If he could, he would've joined theater. Without a second thought or hesitation. Acting was his passion, it lit up his heart and burned like nothing else. But he didn't have a choice. That was gone now.

It was time to be grown up and serious. He didn't have the time for childlike fantasies. He had to help his mom and grandma, and nothing anyone could say would make him choose otherwise. He'd decided to work part-time to support them, and he didn't plan on changing his mind anytime soon. Or ever. His family was more important to him than theater, it always would be. His grandmother always would be. She'd stepped up when his father couldn't handle having a gay son, she'd been the backbone of the family, and he'd do whatever he could to help her now. Even if that meant giving up on theater. For her, he'd do it, no hesitation.

Three years. Three years since he'd last been on stage, and still every year Penny harassed him with fliers and pleas, practically begging him to do theater. And every year he refused. At first Penny had been truly bewildered, but now his refusal just seemed to push her to try harder and push further. With a sigh, Corey slid the paper back towards her, rolling his eyes as he did so. It didn't matter how persistent she was, Corey was even more adamant about this decision.

"I won't change my mind, Penny. I told you in freshman year that I was quitting, and I meant it. I didn't change my mind last year, I'm not changing my mind now, and I don't plan to change it next year, either. I'm not doing theater, so give it up."

She leaned back, her hands on her hips, and scowled at him. He scowled right back at her, which made her crack a wry smile. "One of these days, Corey Hunter, I will get you back on that stage." She announced, pushing her overly round glasses back up on her nose properly. Corey rolled his eyes, looking away from her. "I wouldn't hold my breath," he hissed, crossing his arms.

"Well, I would. Because it's going to happen, I can feel it!"

"What you're feeling is lack of oxygen," he remarked, shrugging his shoulders. "Just so you know, I won't attend the funeral."

"Well, that's rude." Penny huffed, but the air had lightened around them into a sort of teasing standoff. "And here I was, about to name you head of the procession."

"No, thank you. I have no interest in being a pallbearer for you, ginger." Corey snorted, and he remembered the guy from before as he said it. Prince Charming certainly would've made a lame pun about them being pals if he'd heard this conversation. The thought formed a genuine smile on his lips and he fought back a slight chuckle. Penny's eyebrows raised, and she was about to question him about his sudden amusement when the bell rang.

"Oh, shoot. Gotta run, Boy Wonder!" He cringed at the nickname. He hated that one way more than Yolk Cracker. At least that one was funny. "Mrs. Darwin's waiting for me. Keep the flier!" Before he could even refuse, she was gone, out the double doors and down the hall. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he glanced down at the flier, hesitating. He could've thrown it away, or simply just left it on the table, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do either.

The vibrant colors, the gold trim around the letters that proudly proclaimed "Join Theater Club!!", and even the little star stickers that he knew had been Mrs. Darwin's addition to the flier were charming. Anyone who knew the drama teacher knew of her love of stars, especially if they'd ever stepped foot into her office. Stars were her signature motif, and the student body associated her with them even more than they did the astronomy teacher. In the corner of the page, scribbled in Penny's signature chicken scratch handwriting was a little personalized note to him. "Especially you, Boy Wonder!!!" it read, with a stupid little face drawn beside it. Corey couldn't help but openly laugh at it.

With great reluctance, Corey stuffed the flier into his pocket before standing and hurrying to his next class. He'd probably regret this later, but for now, he'd let Penny have this small victory. It wasn't like he was actually going to join theater, he just... Liked the flier. That was all.