"Stop that!"

"Stop what?"

"Doing that thing with your face when you're happy. It's making me nauseous."

****

He was going to kill him.

He swore to whatever pagan god that degenerate, pea-sized brain, ginger moron believed in he was going to slaughter him for crossing the line. Not to confuse Gary for having morals and respecting boundaries, oh no, it's just nobody crosses anything ever over Gary fucking Smith.

He was Gary fucking Smith for crying out loud. He was the one who crosses lines. The one who love to cause destruction and mayhem, it was his thing. But Jimmy? Gary scoffed, chewed fingernails dug into the palm of his hands, long legs took long strides to get to his destination quicker. Jimmy was just some dumb, cheap scum who easily sells himself to anyone for a quick buck (it clearly ran in the family seeing who his mother was).

Gary was in the parking lot smashing the windows of the Harrington House when Justin rushed out. "What the hell do you think you're doing you filthy sociopath!"

"Uh, that really hurt my feelings, friend," Gary doesn't so much as spare the prep a glance, a lazy smirk quirked the edges of lips.

Justin doesn't ask again, instead he resorts to violence. How predictable. Gary evades every attack with ease, taunting and laughing at the prep as he did so. The scarred teen wasn't in the mood to fight he rather much enjoy the scene in front of him. Sweat collected at the top of Justin's brows, his breath had shorten into quick puffs, and his face showed tinges of red. Watching how tired he got amused Gary, who hadn't broken a sweat, he started to throw the leftover rocks he had in his hands. A couple of them hit Justin in his face, the largest one in the groin, and the last rock hit him square in the eye. Easy take down.

"Argh! You bastard!" Justin clutched his left eye as he cussed the sociopath out. Gary watched the prep writhe in pain for a minute or two, finally getting bored of the situation. He sighed, disappointed that he had no source of entertainment anymore. His original plans were cancelled so he opted to go pick on his favorite pink pubescent preteen but he had gone out to town with his parents, so that was also a no go. Jimmy was god knows where, so he couldn't manipulate the ginger into doing something stupid— and most likely illegal. The only idea he had was break some windows.

Gary whistled a random tune, mostly to irk the prep with his laid-back attitude. And it worked too well. "You're such an asshole, it's no wonder you can't get girls, much less Christy Martin."

That made Gary freeze.

He turned around to face Justin, the prep was intimidated by the way his eyes narrowed down at him. "What are you babbling about, moron?" Gary masked his anger with boredom.

Now it was Justin's turn to smirk humorlessly, "Oh nothing, just that our dear friend James got ahold of some interesting documents—" at that Gary felt his blood turn to ice. He knew exactly what documents the inbred trust fund was referring to— "and someone here has a crush on that redhead big mouth. You seem to have a type, friend."

Son of a—

Gary threw his head back and let out a guffaw. "And you believe that scum? Wow, I mean, I know you guys like to pay off nerds to do your work but I didn't think you guys were genuinely brainless." He wiped away a fake tear, his grin became more feral than what Justin would have liked. "Tell you what? I won't torture you mercilessly for weeks if you tell me where our good friend James. Sounds good?"

And that's how Gary was going to spend the rest of his night; plotting Jimmy Hopkin's murder.

****

Jimmy laid in bed bored out of his mind. Having nothing to better to do he tossed a potato from his spud gun into the air and catch it. He'd been doing that for 43 minutes. For someone who was constantly running around school and town doing odd jobs for anyone with money, some jobs easy as hell while others were too demeaning to mention. He should be grateful for one night of peace and quie—

"Where is Jimmy fucking Hopkins!"

Nevermind.

Jimmy never got the chance to sit up on his bed before Gary kicked his door open, pieces of the door way split off and the strike plate flew off with it. One of the hinges broke completely off so now his door was for sure not going to close. "What the fuck Gary? What's your problem?"

"You're my problem!"

"I can see that." Jimmy got up, picking at the splinter wood then grabbed the strike plate, lamenting over the small piece of metal. "My door," he mumbled.

"Listen moron," he began, ruffling through the ginger's desk and book bag to find the so call interesting documents Jimmy some how managed to get his grubby hands on. "Give me what I came for and I'll consider, consider, going easy on you."

But your chances of making it out alive is slim. It was unsaid, but implied.

"What are you talking about?"

Gary got into Jimmy's face.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't play dumb with me."

The ginger smacked Gary's accusatory finger out of his face. "I'm not."

'Shocker', Gary snickered to himself.

"You spread some rumors about me friend," Gary painfully shoved a finger into Jimmy's chest, "that wasn't very nice."

A light bulb flickered on in Jimmy's head. He let a shit eating grin spread on his face.

"Oh, you mean you having a crush on Christy."

"I don't!" Gary groaned quietly, he rubbed his face with both hands to calm himself down. He cannot be too defensive about this delicate situation or else people will actually think he does have a crush. Which he doesn't. Of course he didn't. Gary doesn't do crushes. He can't. It wasn't part of his M/O. Having crushes was like having friends; both were for the weak and Gary wasn't weak. "I mean," he inhaled deeply, "I do not have a silly little crush on some dumb girl with pretty eyes."

Damn it.

Damn it.

Gary was about to slap the smug look off that bastard's face.

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?"

"Doing that thing with your face when you're happy. It's making me nauseous."

Jimmy held up his hands defensively. "I'm not doing anything man." He lowered his hands and sat back down on his bed, arms behind his head and legs crossed. "But if you ask me—" "I didn't." "BUT if you ask me, just ask Christy out on a date. I heard she also has a crush on you."

Oh.

Gary shook his head, "Do you think I'm stupid Hopkins? Like I'm gonna believe you?"

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders, he moved to grab a comic book off the nightstand. "Believe me or don't; I don't care. But remember, I'm not like you so I don't have some ulterior motives or something." And if he did, it'd be that Christy would take him off his back once and for all.

A boy could dream.

The scarred boy sneered. Whatever. He got what he came for now he can leave. "If you so much as snoop through my personal stuff again I'll—"

"—you'll torture me, give me something to tell my therapist, burn my clothes, yeah, yeah. I've heard it all before." Jimmy dismissed him. "Now if you can leave me alone that'd be great."

Gary shot him one last glare before he left.

Now, to find a certain redhead, the only redhead he can tolerate, before the night was completely over.

****

A/N:

Enjoy!!!

P.S I got the idea of Gary liking Christy from a short fic I read a while back on FanFiction.Net.

I highly recommend it! It's called "People To Meet, Things To Do" by Robot Butler.