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“I hereby call this meeting of the Robert Hate Club to order!” Manuel proclaimed, banging the gavel he’d found somewhere against the hardwood dining table, and probably leaving a massive dent in it. Oh well. No one would notice, certainly not before he left for college.
Mario and Mats rolled their eyes, but didn’t dare laugh because they were in Manu’s house, and if HE hadn’t called the meeting they would have done so in a weeks time. Jude wasn’t that invested in the whole business, but he didn’t like Robert either so he kept his mouth shut. There was also food, and he was willing to listen to just about anything for this kind of cheese spread. He started with the cheddar, popping three pieces into his mouth in quick succession, and receiving a slap from the second-youngest person in attendance.
Jamal was mostly there at Manuel’s request, not having witnessed the Great Mullendowski Breakup of the previous year, though he couldn’t help but conclude that anyone making his senior parents upset so regularly was deserving of a hate club. And the cheese was good, if he got any before Jude ate it all. Also, tea and drama.
Quite a few other people, mostly members of Marco and Thomas’s football team, had been invited and skipped for various reasons. Joshua and Leon were hanging out together (an investigation for another day), Erling had been caught for detention by Mr. Guardiola, and Julian wanted to hang out with Kai (also highly suspicious). All in all, it was the three seniors and two freshman who formed this cabinet of anger on behalf of two different people, airing their grievances about one of their dearest former friends.
Manuel, as self-elected president, began the griping. “I can’t stand it anymore!” was his dramatic cry, followed by a long torrent of grievances. “Thomas is STILL mooning over that rat, and he just keeps giving him hope! If Robert would just leave him alone he could at least move on! Not to mention the fact that the bastard broke up with him in the first place! Why on earth did he even do that?!”
Under the weight of twin glares from Mats and Mario (the latter had almost stood up in defense of his best friend, blissfully ignoring the fact that Manu could eat him for lunch), Manuel reconsidered his words. “I mean…..Marco’s nice and all but, you know. I’m team Thomas.” Mario now looked REALLY interested in throwing hands, fully standing and huffing “Oh, yeah, of course, the home-wrecker is your friend so it’s FINE” with such venom that Jamal physically cringed. Thomas was his bro, but Mario looked PISSED.
Fortunately for all, Mats stepped in to do some damage control. “Mario, you WANT Marco to break up with Robert. Remember?” He felt it would be untoward to explain the reasons for this, but the fact stood. Alas, even as Mario was returning to his chair, Jude spoke up. “Yeah, if he doesn’t break up with Robert, you can’t date him.”
Four boys screeched so loudly that it rivaled Thomas’s inside voice, whirling on Jude who was smirking like he hadn’t just dropped the juiciest gossip since Joao got cheated on last time. “YOU KNOW??” Mario cried, dismay beyond belief. “I DIDN’T TELL HIM!” Mats yelped, fearing his head was about to be on the chopping block. “YOU KEPT THAT QUIET MARIO!!” Manuel yelled, pointing accusingly at the small senior. Jamal mostly just screamed, getting the tea he had been awaiting.
After everyone stopped to catch their breaths, Mario was first to interrogate his (former?) friend. “How do you know? I only told Mats!” This was a catastrophe. A downright disaster. If Jude knew someone else must also know, and then he was really fucked because gossip travelled FAST. He’d only told Mats for a REASON, and now someone else had found out regardless. So yeah, he was freaking out. If Marco found out……he still had a boyfriend, however horrible! And even if they DID breakup, well. If you made your run too early you’d be caught offsides.
Jude’s reply was infuriatingly cheeky, delivered with a smirk and a shrug. “Cause I have eyes maybe?” The look Mario gave him led to real alarm however, and he quickly adjusted his answer. “Jule told me, OK? He figured it out when they got together, and I sort of thought of it after Homecoming?” This made Mario feel slightly better, but there was also the question of who else knew. “And you didn’t tell anyone? Anyone at all?” the senior pressed, still pissed. “Um……I may have told Gio and Erling?” Jude muttered, now fearing for his life.
That……was better than Mario expected, actually. He had feared that one of Jude’s new homeroom friends had become privy to the news and would spread it in diverse circles, or, worse, he had told Trent. Telling Trent was telling Andy, and telling Andy was telling the whole school, so there was real risk there. But he could handle Julian, Gio and Erling knowing. Erling never gossiped, Gio would tell Christian at worst and no one took him seriously (plus Mario knew where he lived), and Jule had skeletons of his own in the closet Mario was privy to.
“Hmmm.” was all he said, because that would scare both Jude and Mats into keeping their traps relatively shut. Unfortunately Manuel was not so easily silenced, and pounced on him immediately, with Jamal nodding along eagerly. “Mario, we need an explanation here! You can’t just drop that” Mario found this phrasing most unfair as he hadn’t actually revealed the news “and expect there not to be questions! Is THIS why you hate Robert so much? You’re jealous?”
“No! Of course not! I mean it doesn’t help,” an understatement “but Robert’s a horrid boyfriend regardless! Mats and Jude hate him too, don’t they?” This was something of a false equivalence seeing as they were both (BOTH! He could cry!) aware of his feelings too, but it ought to get Manuel off his back. Just in case it didn’t, he added “You don’t like Thomas, do you?”
“WHAT?! Huh? Where did THAT come from?” Manuel blustered, utterly confounded by this accusation. Why did these idiots look like they were actually considering this? “No. No, I do not! That is…..eeeewwww! No! Just…..no. Incinerate that thought from your minds!” Manu spat, horrified. That was just….so weird! So wrong! Disgusting! Absolutely fucking not! Fortunately, Jamal finally piped up with a question of his own.
“How long?” It was a more….kind question. Not accusing so much as seeking to understand the timeline of events shrouded in the mists of UEFA legend. Mario sighed, because the answer was pretty depressing. “The end of freshman year.” Pathetic, wasn’t it? Almost three years he’d been pining after his best friend, a best friend who’d only had eyes for someone else. A best friend who was getting his heart broken. A best friend who was shattering Mario’s heart along with his own.
Jude whistled. “Shiiit man, that long?” Miserably, Mario nodded. They were being too nice. Nice meant they felt bad for him. Pitied him. If he was this attached to someone attainable, it would be all jokes and banter. Asking why he hadn’t tried yet, calling him a coward. But this quiet acknowledgment meant they knew. They knew why he hadn’t said anything. They all knew it was hopeless too, because even if Marco did dump Robert’s ass, he had never liked Mario. Mario could hope all he wanted, that maybe if they broke up he’d have a chance, but this quiet consensus spelled his doom.
Mournfully, Mario filled his mouth with cheese.
Not wanting to risk being attacked by (the clearly pretty unstable) Mario, Manuel tried to move the group onto why he’d ACTUALLY wanted to meet up. The murder of one Robert Lewandowski. He couldn’t do a whole lot on his own, but with allies he was fairly certain he could get the job done, or at least make the scoundrel miserable.
“So! Moving on!” Mario looked grateful for the change in topic “How are we killing Robert? Or at least making sure the rest of his year sucks ass?” Manuel would like to stay out of jail, and unfortunately that prevented him from really getting rid of Robert. Harassment wasn’t off the table though, not at all! And he knew where the offender lived, which opened many, many doors to all manners of revenge.
Predictably, this got people talking. Few things are more devious than the minds of teenagers, and when this capriciousness is given a target the…..creativity is often immense. “We could smash up his car!” Jude suggested cheerfully, as though remarking on the weather. “Or maybe egg his house!” The younger boy was quickly shushed by his older fellows, however, who had more psychologically damaging plans.
“Do you reckon we could unlace all of his shoes without him noticing?” Mats offered, imagining the hassle that would result. He’d have to wear sandals or something for a few days, and the loss of style would pain Robert greatly. Alas, Mario wasn’t impressed by even this.
“Not good enough.” The shortest member of their council decreed, before offering his own plans. “We ought to find a way to lock him out of his locker, when it’s got all his things in it. We could also clear his phone and game saves. And there’s no point in unlacing his shoes, let’s just nick them during a football game or something.” Almost as an afterthought, he gave Jude a nod. “And we should smash up his car.”
Jamal seemed rather terrified by all of the options presented, and sought to offer something less likely to end in criminal charges. “Or we could just, like, put tacks on his seat or something? Normal prank stuff?” This, however, was voted down swiftly by Manuel. “You can do that if you want kiddo, but the rest of us are thinking…..bigger picture.” Bigger picture being synonymous with psychological damage and the loss of all that was near and dear to heart.
Near and dear to heart. What DID Robert care about, besides himself? Thomas, and theoretically Marco, but they couldn’t exactly steal them. He cared about football and his car, and seemed pretty attached to the freshmen in his homeroom. They’d be easier to kidnap, granted, but it seemed a bit cheap to go after literal children.
Children. Adopted children.
Little Robert.
The name shot through Manuels head like a thunderbolt, banishing all other plots and plans before it by the sheer force of its brilliance. A grinchlike smile drew itself, unbidden, across his face as he listened to Jude and Jamal bicker about what would smell the worst if left in a locker or car. There was no need for such trivial things now. He had a plan to rival them all, the perfect way to make Robert lose his shit, and potentially break him and Marco up in the process. If Marco could get his act together long enough to notice he was basically being cheated on, that is.
Whacking the gavel against the table to shut all the other fools up, Manuel presented his idea to a hushed crowd. “I’ve got it.” he began, arms spread wide. “The perfect plan.” A dramatic pause. A not so dramatic “Tell us then, idiot!” from Mario, who was still a bit touchy. Ugh. Everyone’s a critic.
“I assume you all remember the rabbit?” was all Manuel needed to say. The ensuing uproar made it perfectly clear that everyone else DID remember the rabbit, and were wholly willing to do a bit of pet-napping in the name of their glorious cause.