Chapter 46

If during the days leading up to the game, the attention to myself had begun to dissipate, the day after the game, on Friday, as I walked through the school hallways, to my utter disappointment, I was once again the center of attention of my peers; at least now it was for congratulations and excitement over the game's victory rather than unpleasant glances.

"I heard you guys won the game," Kat said, leaning against the closed locker next to mine, as it was becoming a daily occurrence.

"You heard?" I asked, exaggerating an offended look. "You didn't go to the game?" I continued.

"Watch a bunch of troglodytes crash into each other over a ball?" Kat asked, exhaling with exaggerated arrogance. "I have better things to do," the teenager continued, cleaning her nails in front of her face.

"Oh yeah sure, like listening to music completely alone in your room and writing songs that sadly no one else besides you will know," I said sarcastically, deducing knowing somewhat the girl's personality.

Apparently unable to deny my insinuation, "that was low, Duncan," Kat said, lowering her head slightly while shaking it. 

"Well, you called me a troglodyte for rules I can't change in a game, whereas yours can easily be changed," I said arrogantly, smiling at the teenager who, finishing her act and trying to hide a growing nervousness, denied again, "they're not ready yet," she argued, what seemed to be the tenth time in our conversations when they turned to her music.

"For some reason, I don't believe you," I said haughtily, closing my locker.

"PJ," the sharp voice that I would recognize anywhere in this school called from the hallway, "Sheldon," I greeted the boy who was accompanied by an uncharacteristically annoyed Georgie, with a marked frown on his face.

"When they're ready, I'll let you listen to some, I promise," taking her things from the floor next to her, Kat said as a farewell before quickly walking away through the crowd.

"Were you with Stratford again?" Georgie asked, still with the frown on his face, but I could detect the interest behind his question.

"Yes," I simply replied. "So, does your dad want Sheldon to help with the plays?" I quickly asked, changing the subject.

"How do you know?" surprised, Sheldon, who was standing unusually straight for a kid, asked.

"Well, you arrived early and with Georgie, so you came together, and since yesterday, through a small conversation with Coach Cooper, I found out that the decisive play to win the game was thanks to you, I simply deduced it," I explained, leaving out Georgie's still present frown.

"That was a good deductive process, I wouldn't expect any less from you, PJ," Sheldon said, strangely proud as he nodded.

"Well, thank you, good sir," I said, putting a hand on my chest, thanking the boy with exaggerated formality, which Sheldon imitated surely without exaggeration.

"And don't worry, he's just going to help with the plays, he won't come out to give us orders or anything like that, besides, nobody else needs to know besides us," leaning in with Georgie, I whispered, avoiding his younger brother from overhearing us.

"Know what?" appearing suddenly by our side, impressively close as to not have noticed when Alan arrived, he asked calmly.

"When did you arrive?" Georgie, equally surprised as I, asked.

"A few seconds ago," opening his locker, Alan replied calmly, shrugging it off.

"Well, we weren't talking about anything," Georgie lied, seemingly relieved that Alan hadn't heard our entire conversation.

"Oh, come on, Georgie, it's Alan, who's he gonna tell?" I couldn't help but say haughtily to Georgie, just to have someone to annoy him wtih me.

Besides us three and Sheldon, I highly doubt anyone else in the school would find out that Sheldon from now on would be helping the team in the upcoming games.

The day continued naturally until lunchtime, sitting at our usual table as every day with my friends and the relatively new addition of Kat and Mandella, separated into small subgroups talking about their topics of interest, with Kat, Mandella, and surprisingly Alan, giving me a small lecture on more musical groups and albums than I kept in my car's glove compartment.

"Hey! Duncan," interrupting our conversation suddenly from behind me, someone cheerfully said as they passed their arm over my shoulder.

"Oh, was it Joey?" I said, recognizing the teenager and for some reason, I began to feel a faint headache.

"Yeah, Joey Donner," the teenager said, smiling widely, greeting those present at the table who looked puzzled by his abrupt arrival.

"What do you need, Joey?" I asked, removing his arm from my shoulder as he practically had to lean all his weight on me since I was sitting.

"Just to give you this," stretching out his other hand with an arrogant smile, he handed me some sort of brochure, "a party to celebrate the team's victory, my parents won't be in town this weekend so it's gonna be awesome," Joey said with great excitement, awkwardly tapping my arm, "obviously all of you are invited too," he said, addressing the other people at the table as the teenager continued to distribute more papers.

The paper the teenager had handed over was surprisingly an invitation printed with an address and time.

"Maybe I mentioned to a couple of people that you'd be there," the teenager said, tapping my shoulder again. "So I'd really appreciate it if you came; after all, you owe me," he asserted shamelessly. "Well, see you all there," before I could ask what he meant, the teenager quickly moved to another table, seemingly repeating the process.

"I owe him?" I asked incredulously to my friends at the table, showing them the 'invitation' in my hand.

"It doesn't sound too bad," David said, holding the same invitation in his hand.

"You've skipped enough parties, SuperStar," Brock added. "If you don't owe it to Donner, you owe it to us," grabbing Georgie and David on either side, he continued.

"You don't want to be a social outcast, at least not more than you already are," Kat argued, seizing the opportunity to tease.

"Are you going too?" I asked Alan beside me, who simply shrugged. "No, no, if I go, you're going too. I'll swing by for you tomorrow," I said, leaving no room for argument.

At the hospital, it seemed that House had somehow managed to stay in the obstetrics lounge to watch his soap operas without being disturbed, and with no cases requiring the team's attention, there was nothing much to do. Therefore, like other days, I spent most of my time studying in the hospital library as well as watching numerous surgical procedures and practicing whatever I could in the skill lab.

The next day, being Saturday, apart from waking up later than usual, nothing changed from my daily routine. "PJ, can we go to the comic book store?" Gabe asked from the living room couch while we watched one of his cartoons.

"Yeah, sure, why not," taking the remote and turning off the TV, I said, getting up and walking towards the front door with my little brother following me excitedly.

Outside the house, we found Sheldon sitting on the front porch of his own house, working intently in a notebook with several papers in his lap. "Hey Sheldon, we're going to the comic book store, do you want to come?" I asked the boy after greeting him.

"Oh yeah," quickly setting aside everything he had with him, the boy responded just as excitedly as Gabe, quickly walking, but still with surprisingly straight posture, towards where we were.

"No, first, tell your mom," stopping the eager boy in his tracks, I ordered.

"Right," understanding the gravity of my order, Sheldon turned on his heels, walking back to his house.

"Why did you invite him?" annoyed, Gabe asked.

"Oh, come on, Gabe, he likes comics too, I thought you'd already warmed up to him," I said to the boy, scolding him with a gentle tap on the back of his head.

"Okay," still grumbling, Gabe said.

"PJ, Gabe," from the Cooper's house, Mrs. Cooper with her almost always present kind smile greeted us.

"Hi, Mrs. Cooper," I greeted the woman, echoed by my younger brother.

"Sheldon says you're going to the comic book store and that he's invited," the woman said quietly, asking if it was true.

"Oh yes, don't worry, Mrs. Cooper, we'll be there for one or two hours top," I assured her.

"Well, that's perfect, thank you very much, PJ," joining her hands cheerfully, the woman said before calling Sheldon.

"Let's go," excited, Sheldon joined us, waiting for me to open the car so he could get in the back.

"Do you have your seatbelt on, Sheldon?" after making sure Gabe had his on, I asked the boy in the back of the car.

"It's the third thing I do when I get in a car," Sheldon said seriously, "the first two are making sure the driver is competent and then the structural viability of the car," he added, apparently feeling the need to explain.

"I'm glad you find me competent," I said to the boy before starting the car.

"You're going too fast," a few seconds after moving forward, Sheldon said with concern.

Ignoring the boy, I turned up the volume of the music in the car.

Reading comics along with playing sports were things I hadn't experienced, and as I did, I was starting to enjoy them. Plus, it was an activity to do with Gabe that didn't involve getting dirty again.

After what was probably a couple of hours, I decided it was time to head back home. "Can I take a comic home?" Gabe asked after agreeing it was time to go home. "Can I too?" seizing the opportunity, Sheldon also asked.

Seeing the two eager children in front of me, "I'll tell you what, if you promise to clean my car tomorrow, you can each take two comics," after thinking for a few seconds, I offered.

The offer was tempting for the children; it seemed Sheldon was about to blindly accept, but Gabe stopped him, dragging him away from me for a few seconds.

"Make it three each, and you have a deal," Gabe said seriously as Sheldon nervously stood behind him.

"Three comics each, and you clean 'Debbie' inside and out, including the trunk," I countered.

Sheldon now much more nervous shuffled behind Gabe on his feet, while my brother seemed to consider the offer, spinning with the other boy, they seemed to have a silent conversation with their eyes before Gabe turned back to me, "you have a deal," he said, raising his hand for a handshake, which I gladly accepted, and we repeated with Sheldon.

"You have two minutes to pick your comics, or the deal's off," raising my hand with the watch, I said.

Gabe, who had already experienced this, quickly ran to one of the shelves, while Sheldon, not having experienced this before, stood still, completely surprised. "Time's ticking, Sheldon," I said, shaking my wrist, causing the boy to snap out of his trance as he ran like my brother to where the comics were organized.

Two minutes was really more than enough time, at least for Gabe, who chose his comics without much trouble. Sheldon, on the other hand, used the entire time limit while he debated the pros and cons of choosing one comic over another on his own.

After paying for the kids' comics, we returned home.

"Hey, Dad," I greeted Bob as we entered the house, finding him comfortably watching TV in the living room, where he was watching some kind of documentary about ants.

"So, there's a party today, and I was wondering if..." I was saying, but Bob interrupted me. "Sure, just come home before the sun comes up," Bob said, laughing.

"Really?" I asked, surprised by how quickly and disinterestedly he agreed.

"Of course, your mom and I trust you. Besides, you practically live in a hospital outside the house, so you know the risks of being stupid," Bob explained, lowering the volume of the TV when ads interrupted his documentary. "Actually, we were worried that you never go out. For a moment, we thought you were sneaking out at night," the man confessed.

"So, you're glad I'm going out?" I asked, surprised.

"Of course, your mother and I are happy with your improvement in school, PJ, and your interest in medicine, but you're a teenager. Behave like one occasionally, just one with a brain," he clarified seriously.

"Okay, thanks, Dad," I said, still puzzled, walking to my room. It seemed I wasn't behaving like a regular teenager; again, House was right, I needed to spend more time with my friends.

A few hours later outside, as we had discussed the day before, Georgie was waiting, apparently hidden behind the fence separating our houses from his.

"What are you doing?" I asked, puzzled by his behavior.

"I lied to my mom, I told her we were going to Brock's house," Georgie admitted in a whisper.

"Why?" I asked, intrigued by the reason for his lie.

"We can't go dancing, it's a silly rule from mom," Georgie replied, annoyed; so it was for some religious reason.

"Well, I did ask for permission for the party, so if your mom asks mine, she'll find out," I said, bursting his bubble of ignorance.

"That'll be a problem for the future," after thinking about it worriedly for a few seconds, Georgie said resolutely before walking strangely to 'Debbie,' as if he didn't want to seem suspicious.

"Whatever you say," I said amused, walking to 'Debbie,' opening the doors before speeding out of our street towards Alan's house.

Upon arriving at Alan's house, before I could turn off the car's engine and get out to ring the doorbell, the glass on Georgie's side was tapped, surprising both of us at once; outside the window, Alan was equally calm as always, standing.

"No way, he wasn't there when we arrived, how does he do it?" Georgie asked, surprised. "I don't know," I replied, equally surprised, before Georgie opened his door and got out to arrange the seat so Alan could get into the back.

During the drive, despite Georgie's insistence, Alan didn't deign to respond to how he had reached the window without us noticing; with Alan, my usual skill of observation usually didn't work, but there were few times I could distinguish a small amused smile, and it was when he managed to surprise someone.

Following a small map of the city that I kept in the glove compartment, we arrived at the street indicated on the 'invitation' Joey had handed out; it was a street with beautiful houses and expensive-looking cars in front of each house, obviously a street of wealthy people.

In front of the house where the party obviously was, a bunch of cars were parked with dozens of teenagers with cups swaying slightly to the music that we could still hear inside the car despite the windows being up.

Parking 'Debbie,' we all got out of the car before entering the house, greeting a bunch of teenagers I didn't know, but they knew me; likewise, receiving kisses dangerously close to the lips from a few of the girls I passed, who shared a bit of alcoholic breath.

Inside the house, I moved with Alan among the people, as Georgie immediately separated, following one of the girls present at the party, until we reached what seemed to be a living room. "Duncan, you made it!" obviously a little drunk, Joey happily shouted, spilling some of the contents of his cup as he moved, "look, it's Duncan!" he cheerfully shouted to a group of people beside him before walking towards me.

"Be careful with that, looks like you've had enough already," subtly taking the cup from his hand, I said while greeting the teenager.

"Yeah, I was a bit nervous, so I had a few drinks," the teenager admitted, "here, grab one, they're in the kitchen, Stratford's in there too," he continued before shouting and joining his guests.

"Thanks," amused, I said to the teenager, handing the cup in my hand to another teenager passing by.

"Let's go find Kat?" turning to ask Alan, I didn't find my calm friend, even though I could swear he was there a second ago.

Ignoring my friend's sudden disappearance, I walked again among a bunch of teenagers until I reached the kitchen, where I found Kat with her friend Mandella, both with drinks in their hands as they moved playfully to the rhythm of the music. 

Mandella, who was in front of the kitchen door, saw me enter before informing Kat and pointing me out, now behind her distracted friend, Mandella after saying something else to Kat, separated, giving me a big thumbs up as she danced among the crowd of people. 

"I thought you'd be in a library at this hour," speaking loudly by my ear, Kat sarcastically said.

Ignoring her joke, I took the glass in her hand, bringing it to my nose to discern its contents, obviously alcohol, while I looked at my friend with the best disappointed expression I could muster. I reacted too late when she quickly grabbed the glass from my hand again, "have some fun, dad," shouting again next to my ear, Kat arrogantly said, emphasizing the last word before taking a big sip of her drink.

"Let's go, smart pants," pulling my arm, she shouted as she danced out of the kitchen dragging me along with her.

I could understand all the fuss about parties and teenagers; after a few minutes of being forced by Kat to dance to the music's rhythm, I actually started having fun.

Several songs later, exhausted from having fun with Kat, we walked back to the living room where surprisingly I found my friends sitting among a bunch of other teenagers mixed of both men and women.

"SuperStar!" Brock exclaimed excitedly, looking up at me from the floor. "It's true, you came!" David added, equally excited. Suddenly, one of the girls near the circle on the floor dragged me into an empty space, forcing me to sit next to Brock, who helped the girl support me tightly under his arm.

The girl who had dragged me quickly moved to the other side of the circle, where a small group of girls allowed her to sit. "What's happening?" I asked my friend, watching as the same girl prepared in the center of the circle to spin a bottle.

"It's just the best game ever," Brock laughed for some reason, tightening his grip.

The bottle spun for a few seconds until it stopped, pointing to another teenager who cheered, unlike the girl who spun the bottle, who lowered her head in disappointment.

"What..." I was asking, but the two teenagers approached and kissed in the center of the circle amidst the cheers of encouragement from the others.

"Yeah, no," understanding the game, I said, trying to get up but unable to do so because of Brock's strong grip. "No, they weren't so excited to spin a minute ago," Brock explained loudly in my ear pointing to the girls on the other side, keeping me by his side.

The bottle spun several more times, fortunately not stopping in my direction. I managed to free myself from Brock's grip when it was his turn to spin the bottle, which I immediately took advantage of because, following the logic of the game, it would soon be my turn to spin.

In one of the sofas in the house, Alan, who was watching the game, was sitting quietly with a small smile on his face and a bowl of some snacks. "You're lucky," he said when I sat next to him, loud enough for me to hear. "Yeah," I admitted relieved, taking a potato chip from the bowl. "Did you see where Kat went?" remembering that I had been pulled away from my friend, I asked.

Alan, amusedly watching as Brock excitedly moved with all the grace his robust body allowed towards a teenager who, with some reluctance, also approached my friend, simply pointed behind the sofa.

Kat, again with Mandella, was dancing happily in the center of the house.

Talking to Alan, who surprisingly had a great knowledge of music, about the songs playing on the speakers in the house, we continued to watch amusedly as our friends kept playing the bottle game while the girls involved in the game one by one started to leave until the number of boys far outnumbered the girls.

When the bowl of chips ran out, I realized it was quite late when I looked at my watch. "Do you want to leave?" I asked Alan, who nodded without really caring. "I'll go to the bathroom, I'll see you in your car in five," Alan said, getting up.

Taking the bowl to the kitchen, I found a bunch of people at the door apparently excitedly watching something, pushing the few teenagers at the door aside, I entered the kitchen where Kat was dancing carelessly on top of an kitchen island.

That's dangerous. Quickly leaving the bowl in the sink, I approached Kat, grabbing her by the legs and lifting her onto my shoulder. "PJ, what are you doing?" obviously drunk, Kat said, moving uncomfortably on my shoulder.

"I'm preventing you from breaking your neck," walking towards the back door of the house in the kitchen, I said with the teenager still on my shoulder, "where's Mandella?" I asked when I was outside the house, walking towards where I was parked.

"I told her to go, I'm sleeping here," Kat said, outside the house, even though you could still hear the music, it was much quieter now, "she left?" I asked worriedly, "did she drive?" I continued.

"No, she left with her parents," Kat explained as she hummed the song.

"And she left you here?" I asked again incredulously, "how were you going to get home?"

"I was going to call home tomorrow," she explained shamelessly as if it were obvious, "yeah, no," I said, walking to the front yard of the house, leaving the teenager on the ground again to search for my keys, "hey, idiot!" from the house behind me, someone suddenly shouted, surprising me.

Turning around, I found an annoyed teenager walking directly towards me. "Are you talking to..." I was asking, but the teenager, without letting me finish, punched me right next to my eye. "What?" stepping back with a burning sensation on my face, I said incredulously, trying to understand what was happening, "she's done with you, stop bothering her," the annoyed teenager said advancing towards me again.

Altered by the pain in my face and trying to understand what was happening, as I tried to move away from the strangely angry teenager, I stumbled over my own feet, almost falling.

"I don't know who you are," I said nervously, dodging the blows from the now obviously drunk teenager.

"Stay away from Regina," he said again and immediately I recognized him; he was the blond teenager who accompanied Regina the day Gabe and I found her. Unable to defend myself, the teenager threw another punch that I couldn't avoid, hitting my face again, and if the taste of blood could say something, it opened my lip.

Unable to move further to avoid the fight, bumping into a car, I closed my fist, hitting the drunk teenager's face.

I had never hit anyone before; even the punching bag that Bob had brought along with the weights was still hanging from the garage ceiling as it arrived, never in my previous life had it occurred to me to use my hands for anything other than sewing wounds or stopping bleeding.

As I hit the teenager's face, I felt an immediate pain in my fist. "Ow," I complained, stupidly holding my hand, turning my back on the still angry teenager.

"Don't go, you damn coward," I heard the guy shout, turning quickly to try to avoid any other blow directed at me, fortunately, I didn't have to worry.

Alan appearing again out of nowhere with surprising ease used the momentum of the angry guy's blow to carry him over his shoulder and forcefully hit him on the ground, knocking the air out of his lungs.

"Are you okay?" studying my face seriously, Alan asked, ignoring the still painful teenager on the ground, "I was about to defeat him," now out of danger, feeling the stinging pain in my face and in my fist, I said jokingly.

"Yeah, I could see that," sarcastically, Alan said, looking at the teenager on the ground without being impressed, taking my hand to inspect it, "it's not broken," Alan said.

I could tell.

"Let's go, give me your keys," he ordered, pointing to Georgie who was behind him with a bunch of teenagers who until now I realized were there witnessing everything incredulously.

Handing over my keys to my usually calm friend along with Kat, who looked worried between the two, I entered the back of 'Debbie' while Kat, much more sober, began to check me nervously, "what was wrong with that jerk?" she asked angrily as she moved my face from side to side.

"I don't know, he's Regina's boyfriend..." I was saying what I knew, but Kat angrily interrupted me, "that damn lying bitch, I knew that show wasn't all she was going to do, she's a witch," furious Kat said, pressing forcefully where the teenager had hit me without realizing it.

Pulling away from her hand, I exclaimed in pain, "I'm sorry," embarrassed, Kat said, clasping her hands.

"Don't worry," I said, calming the girl, "seeing a caveman hit me for no reason, how's that for spending your day?" I asked, teasing her about what she had told me the day before.

"Don't say nonsense," Kat said, laughing uncontrollably and pushing my arm.

"Ah, I'm injured, remember?" I said, exaggerating the pain even though I hadn't received any other blows besides the one to my face.

"Yeah, why didn't you defend yourself?" frustrated, Kat said.

"Hey, I threw a punch," offended for some reason, I said.

"And it was a great punch," Georgie added from the front of the car, "until it hurt you," he added, laughing lightly.

"Yeah, you're supposed to close your fist tightly, you didn't have it completely closed, that's why it hurt, also your wrist wasn't straight enough, if you had hit with more force, you could have broken it," Alan calmly said from the driver's seat.

"Sorry for not knowing how to hit a person," I said incredulously, making Kat and Georgie laugh lightly.

Reluctantly, Kat was the first to be taken home, who, due to the shock of the 'fight', was much soberer than before and managed to enter her house quietly before we left the place.

"Mind if I stay at your place?" Alan asked as I lay in the back seat, now feeling the incredibly unbearable pain in my face.

"Obviously, you can stay," I said, trying to distract myself from the pain in my face.

Arriving at my house, Alan and Georgie, who with whom I was supposed to be with at Brock's house, entered as quietly as possible. "Hey, champ," in the living room, watching TV silently, Bob, who was probably listening for the door, said. "Everyone's sleeping," he said quietly as he stood up, "how did it go?" he asked, turning with a big smile that quickly faded when he saw my face.

"Great?" I said, trying to smile, stopping with pain.

---

Author's Thoughts:

As always, I'm not American and not a doctor.

He does not know how to fight, Is anyone surprised by this? I hope not, because throughout the course of the story, I've left many clues about it.

I've never been to an American party (specifically in Texas in 1990), but I've seen many movies and the party in episode 5 of Young Sheldon, so that was my attempt at a 1990 party in a small town in Texas.

Since I started writing, we've never reached any goal for the extra chapters I propose. I don't know if it's my fault because I honestly don't know how many people actually read this weekly (sometimes there are more than 20 comments per chapter, sometimes less than 10), and the view counter is obviously broken. Collections are unreasonable (I highly doubt more than 4k people have the novel in their libraries), and I don't know if the 61 people who liked my profile are the novel's readers (By the way go give me some likes).

So until I have a real idea of what I can ask for extra chapters or not, I'll continue with the normal schedule unless something special happens (like reaching 100 reviews or something crazy).

Another chapter has passed, so new thanks are in order. I would like to especially thank:

keyakedo

RandomPasserby96

11332223

With that said,

I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.

Thank you for reading! :D

PS: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW.

PS2: From now on, sometime I'm going to make recommendations, because, why not?

---

Author Recommendations:

If you like me are a fan of Superman and also enjoy Game of Thrones, "A Song of Sun and Stars [Man of Steel x ASOIAF]" by OrangePanther here on WebNovel could be a great option.

At the moment I'm writing this, it has 14 chapters (4 chapter per week at least what WebNovel says) with 214 power stones (which is impressive because my novel only reaches about 300 a week, so you can see how good this Superman novel is) and 5 reviews.

If you give your honest opinion of the novel with constructive comments or even a review, I know it will mean a lot to the author. (Let's see if it can at least reach 15 reviews after this chapter is published).