Interlude 2 – Eugene “Flash” Thompson

“Eugene! Breakfast!” called Flash Thompson’s mother as he applied his aftershave; a rare gift from his father for ‘growing into his manhood’. He wiped his face with a towel after he was done getting dressed and made his way to breakfast.

“Good morning, mother,” he said kindly with a kiss on her cheek. He then proceeded to help set the table and seat her.

“Where’s the douche?”

“Eugene Harrison Thompson! You will treat you step-father with respect.”

“Whatever.”

What little positivity Flash had for the day was now decidedly smothered. But that was okay because he had a goal and a plan to achieve it. It was imperative to his college plans that he manages to assemble a full squad that day. First day jitters be damned.

“Oh, don’t look so gloomy Flash, eat your eggs. Chop-chop.”

Flash smirked at that and dug in. Sometimes it felt like his mother still saw him as an eight-year-old. It was nice. Far better than the hastily worn mask everyone saw back at school.

“Morning,” greeted a gruff voice outside of Flash’s field of view. While his mother responded enthusiastically, Flash dropped his head with a sigh and simply grunted in lieu of a reply.

After the new arrival, breakfast was a silent affair. Even so, Flash did not escape the usual interrogation.

“So, still planning on chasing balls for the rest of your life?” snarked the man seated beside him once his mother left to clear the table.

“I’m not joining the fucking Marines!” He hissed with a tad more enthusiasm than he intended and knew was safe. The change in the man’s expression made it clear that Flash had overstepped. A quickly added, “Sir”, did not do much to calm the fossil.

Thankfully, the return of Flash’s mother along with a glass of milk for Flash and a cup of coffee for his stepfather broke them apart momentarily.

“As long as you remember: two years; if you don’t make it as a professional sportsman by then it’s my responsibility to make you a real man. You’ll be off to Parris Island before you can say ‘defence’.”

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“Fuck! This is a goddamn mess!” thought Flash as his dreams threatened to crumble around him. It had taken an agonising amount of showboating and trash-talk to organise the misfits you would call the ‘jocks’ of midtown high into a team. He had become accustomed to the sycophantic bullshit they spewed over the summer but at least they all listened to him. Yet he hadn’t even made it to his first class, and he was on shaky ground on both fronts.

This was ridiculous. His team was calling him a pussy just because he didn’t dismantle some fucking creep perving on his girlfriend. And despite not having touched the little shit his Chemistry teacher claimed he’d ‘lost the benefit of the doubt’.

So now he has to get a B or higher in his first testing season or he loses his right to captain the team and he has to somehow figure out how to wrangle his team back under heel.

Once his Chemistry teacher ended his tirade and turned to leave, Flash heard someone snicker from behind him. The voice was quite loud and his team spying at him from around the corridor definitely heard it. Flash could not help but allow the surge of anger the laugh caused to reach its natural conclusion. He did not recognise who the laugh came from but at least he’d be an easy target to get rid of the ‘pussy’ talk.

Flash strode up behind him and demanded his attention. Somehow, the boy was taller than he looked. Despite taking up seemingly less space the boy wasn’t much shorter than Flash himself, but that did not stop him. Flash mush have been channelling his stepfather because the boy’s untidy windswept fair was pissing him off - a contrast from his own crew cut.

Of course, not even this ended well. He was once again interrupted by a teacher who hated him, but not before being sabotaged by the Queen Bitch herself. Whom, now that he thought about it, could quite neatly be blamed for all his problems that morning.

“I hate school,” he thought before heading into class and doing his best to unnerve the oddly confident new kid. In for a penny, in for a pound.