Chasing Rusty Parker - 59. Who’s The Toppest Dog, After All?

Chapter Fifty-Nine – Who’s The Toppest Dog, After All?

“Ouch.”

“Stay still.”

“I can’t. You’re trying to pull all the hair off my head,” Rusty complained while August struggled to make a small ponytail of his real hair because – she said – the wig would stay better on his head if none of his natural hairs went astray. It was, he thought, a ruse and she only wanted to see him in tears.

“Such a cry baby. How does Matty put up with you again?”

“Shut up, or I pull you off the bridesmaids’ list.”

August gasped for show. “You wouldn’t do that. It’s always been my dream to stare at someone else getting married with stars in my eyes. And congratulate myself that it isn’t me playing the lottery.”

Rusty sobered up some. “Don’t tell me he ruined you for happiness.”

August fussed around him, applying all sorts of hair products only she knew the purpose of. “For happiness, no. For marriage, maybe. I don’t know. I guess we’ll see. And I can always be auntie August, who comes visiting to spoil other people’s babies rotten.”

“Okay, auntie. Hey, what’s in that?” He pointed nervously at a big bottle with something the color of wet cement in it.

“You need a mud mask,” August argued.

“I’ve been just fine without all this stuff.”

His friend huffed in disbelief. “You don’t say. I suppose you don’t realize this yet, Rusty, but on your way to stardom, you will have to face armies of makeup artists bent on doing their job. And they won’t have a soft spot for you like I do.”

“I haven’t thought of that,” Rusty admitted. “Okay, mud me up. I hope my luscious visage will shine so brightly that Connor will instantly see the light.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going for a quick victory. The entire campus is abuzz with this confrontation of yours. The king of douchebags is probably at a spa right now, getting a mani-pedi and who knows what else.”

“You know, when you put it like that, I can’t allow that dude to get the upper hand only because he thought of undergoing more beautification treatments.”

“They’re called beauty treatments, actually.”

“Whatevs, my dear,” Rusty proclaimed and lounged back in his chair like a spoiled diva.

“Straighten up right now,” August said and poked him in the ribs. “And Matty’s probably getting his own makeover right now, too.”

***

“So, should I go with this,” Matty asked as he lifted one tank top up and then the other, “or this?”

Zoey was swinging her legs and didn’t seem that eager to help him out.

“Hey,” Matty said louder to draw her attention. “On the phone, you said, and I quote, ‘I’m coming over to help you kill it’ but now I’m starting to have doubts about what exactly you planned on killing. Probably that quart of ice cream you’ve been polishing off for the last half hour.”

Zoey gave him a guilty look and then sighed from the bottom of her ice cream filled heart. “Today, Dex asked me about my plans after graduation. We might be evolving from kissing partners.”

“To touching partners? You two did touch each other, right?” Matty asked.

“Of course,” Zoey hurried to say. “What do you think we are? Nuns? Monks? Nunks?”

Matty dropped his arms. “But you haven’t done the deed yet, right?”

Zoey nodded and looked away quickly. “It’s overwhelming how gentle he can be, given his size. It feels like it’s not real at times.”

“That’s great,” Matty said and plopped on the bed by Zoey’s side. “And you want to be with him. You’ve wanted it for some time.”

“Yes, but now the future sort of scares me a little,” Zoey admitted. “I mean, we’ve done a lot of things for fun while in college, but who knows what real life’s going to be like?”

“I guess we’ll have to see how it goes when we get there. Come on, out with it, tell me what’s eating you.”

Zoey buried her nose in the ice cream bucket and mumbled something.

“I don’t think I caught that. Say again?”

Zoey mumbled again and her head dipped lower.

Matty grabbed the bucket from her and held it up. “I’m going to hold this hostage until you say it--”

“I’m a virgin, okay?”

Matty looked at Zoey, not really understanding what the big deal was. Eventually, he found his voice. “So what?”

“So what?! I made him believe that I’m this mysterious seductive creature of the night--”

“No, you didn’t, Zoey.”

She deflated. “No, I didn’t. He must have guessed it. That’s why we’re not moving forward. He behaves sometimes like I’m going to break. Unless I’m reading all this wrong and he’s having the time of his life with dozens of chicks on the side, while I’m… I don’t even know what I am to him.”

“You’re the chick he asked about future plans. That should give you the answer to that. Also, between football, studying, and you, do you really think he has time for dozens of chicks? Every time I see him at the house, he’s got his nose in a book and Kane is the only one keeping him company.”

“He might, though,” she argued. “If he’s not sleeping. Gosh, Matty, I’m one of those now, aren’t I?”

“What those are you talking about?”

“People in suffering.”

“Suffering?”

“I mean, in love,” she added and then threw her arms around his neck and pressed her head into his chest. “It’s so weird because I’ve never been before.”

“Well, if that helps, before Rusty, I hadn’t been in love either. So, you see, we’re in this together.”

“Damn, we’re both helpless then.”

Matty patted her on the back. “It will be fine, I promise. He clearly cares about you. And if you want to take your kissing partnership to the next level, just tell him. I very much believe that he’s going to be over the moon if you do. Come on, Zoey, who’s the bravest in the land?”

“I am,” she said bravely and then looked up. “The one that leaves your midriff bare is the right choice.”

“Thank you,” he said courteously, not in the least surprised by the sudden change of topic. That was his bestie. “But showing skin, wouldn’t that give those guys new fodder? They’re bent on presenting us as the number one reason why the world is going to end in fire and brimstone.”

“And? If they already think so, it doesn’t matter if you go in even a more risqué outfit than the one you already have. Also, can you tell me what your plans are? You’ve been so secretive about them.”

“Rusty is in charge of the show. I want you to be as surprised as everyone else will be. Especially since it’s going to be a lot of fun.”

“Okay, okay, so it’s pretty much like not giving any spoilers away. I can live with that. Now let me help you be at your best.”

“You already helped me with the final choice. What’s left to do?”

Zoey smiled slyly. “Oh, you have no idea. You must be dazzlingly beautiful so that Connor eats his heart out when he sees you. I’ve brought all the beauty products I managed to appropriate from the chicks on my floor. Before you ask, they were happy to contribute to the cause.” To make a point, she grabbed her bag and opened it, letting Matty stare at a wide range of bottles and cans with various contents.

“Zoey, you do know that I’m going to wear a mask and a wig. Not that much to see of me, except well, what’s out in the open, given how skintight my costume is.”

“Beauty is in the soul, Matty. And I’m going to help you feel it.”

“Admit it, you just want a doll to play with.”

“Yes. One that comes in human size. Hopefully, it doesn’t scratch.”

“Not this human,” Matty said and smiled. “I’m yours, then. And you can tell me how you plan to seduce your big guy.”

“Do I have to?” Zoey made one last-ditch effort to escape.

“Yes. I need to be paid for what you’re about to inflict on me.”

“Fair,” Zoey admitted and grabbed her bag again.

***

Connor was in a smart suit that looked like it must have cost a pretty penny, which was a surprise given his propensity for mainly wearing stuff that smelled of mold from miles away. Without a doubt, it was a big occasion for him, and he wanted to dress the part. He was strutting along the improvised stage from one side to the other, holding a microphone tightly in his hand while blaring words at an audience that looked quite bored and apathetic.

“How long are we going to wait?” Matty whispered while waiting right behind Rusty, in their hiding place, which was the roof of a nearby building.

“Let him tire himself out for a bit. Look at him, so full of energy. Wasted on this crap instead of self-love.”

“Are you suggesing that he should masturbate more often?”

“I would,” Rusty admitted, “but I don’t believe he takes kindly to that sort of thing. To tell you the truth, Matty, I’m starting to suspect Connor of being a dickless wonder. It’s a legendary creature, almost on the same level as a unicorn.”

Matty snickered and pressed himself against Rusty. “Are we only going to taunt him from the balcony, or are we going to face him on his level, too?” The reason why he hadn’t been able to tell Zoey about the plan was that he didn’t know it, either, not in great detail.

“Yes, and the boys have helped me with a little project. I’m going to descend upon him like a true vigilante. Like a beast. And, of course, I’ll have my beauty with me.” Rusty turned toward him and pursed his lips, waiting for a kiss.

“I can’t kiss you right now. Zoey used at least five different lip glosses, all in nude shades, whatever those are, on me, and all her work meant to present the world my plump lips will go to waste.”

“And I thought you were a rule breaker,” Rusty protested and pouted, but soon he was smiling again. “Okay, since our dudes and gals have worked so hard for this moment to be perfect, I’m not going to be the one to ruin it with my extremely high libido.”

“Not a modest one, are you?” Matty teased his lover.

“Of course not. The day I become modest, make sure to lock me up in a dungeon on a diet of bread, water, and you.”

“Where would I find a dungeon?”

“We’re going to build one,” Rusty said brightly. “Especially for such extreme occasions.”

Matty couldn’t agree more. “Let’s listen a bit to what he has to say. O.M.G., is he really bringing up Preston again? The poor guy doesn’t deserve this.”

On the stage below them, Connor was continuing his irate speech. The lack of enthusiasm from the crowd only made him bellow into the microphone harder and harder.

“I think it’s time to intervene,” Matty added and turned to see Rusty looking at him bug-eyed all of a sudden. “What is it?”

“Matty, I think I have stage fright.”

“Rusty,” Matty moaned, half-believing his fiancé by how shell-shocked he managed to look for a moment.

The next second, Rusty’s mouth turned into a large grin. “Okay, I’m over it.”

“Player,” Matty muttered under his breath and shook his head, although he couldn’t conceal the smile tugging at the corners of his lips, either.

He looked over the edge and then noticed the rope. “Are we really, really sure about this?”

“Yes,” Rusty replied. “Come on, give your swashbuckling hero a kiss for luck and let’s get going.”

***

The crowd was going mad around them as they reached the stage on which Connor had been king until only recently. Rusty had a mind not to release Matty at all from the hug and kiss, because it felt good to be one person’s hero after all, so he needed to remind himself that Connor was still a jerk and needed some serious putting in place for the sake of everyone around them. Plus, the guys’ hard work to make their entrance as spectacular as it had been needed to be rewarded properly.

“See what I’m talking about?” Connor squealed into the microphone, pointing at Rusty and Matty, his arm shaking with righteous indignation. “They’re making a mockery of student life! Just like Dean Preston!”

“Mr. S.H.I.T., please allow me,” Rusty said courteously while allowing Matty to step away from him in what must have been a well-rehearsed pirouette. “I believe it’s now my turn.” He grabbed the microphone from Connor and, on cue, his friends hit him with the first orchestral notes of his weapon of choice. It was time for Sunny Hill to recognize their one and only true factotum .

The audience began screaming in delight as he played with the aria, making it his own. And, like a genuine barber of quality, he began circling Connor, cutting the air around him with his fingers turned into imaginary scissors. The guy seemed a bit out of his element, but Rusty was a little too busy with his own performance to spare an ounce of pity for the out of water fish. Connor tried to step away from him, but Rusty, bent on his job, followed and managed to brush his hand against the guy’s hair, ruffling it a bit.

“He touched me! He’s assaulting me!” Connor shouted, but because he no longer had the microphone, only Rusty and Matty, who were on stage with him, could hear him. He seemed to realize his mistake and began jumping around Rusty, who held the microphone up and tilted his head back. Actually, Connor’s antics were helping him create the effect of his voice coming from different corners of the stage, for the most genuine effect that complemented the control he was applying to the melody and words of the aria.

In the meantime, Matty was performing a special dance, for the sake of the audience, pretending to stalk either a mouse or a red light. Flowers began to rain over them, and Rusty noticed, out of the corner of one eye, how August, Zoey, and Hanna were busy with that part of the act. Improvisation, nice.

Connor was going mad and a bit red in the face, so Rusty delivered the last lines of his aria and held the arm with the microphone away from his body as he bowed in front of the audience. He couldn’t say he was surprised when Connor snatched the thing out of his hand to re-launch his attack.

“You see, you see?” he squealed in a high-pitched voice. “Stop applauding them, can’t you see?”

The students of Sunny Hill seemed to want an encore, but Rusty believed in fairness. He pointed graciously at his opponent. “It’s his turn,” he said, although not many people could hear him.

Matty came to rest against his shoulder and catch his breath. Of course, at this point, they didn’t even have to do much; just standing there seemed to be enough to make the crowd go crazy. Now that was a success, and he could live with it. And, of course, allow Connor to shriek his way through his speech.

Not that anyone paid him any attention at this point. Which, of course, begged the question: where was Connor’s famous army? He wrapped one arm around Matty’s waist and then, together, they moved closer to Connor.

The infamous leader of the Implacables, however, seemed to take their peaceful action as an act of violence and began sprinting away, holding the microphone close as if it were a precious artifact and bad people were trying to take it away from him.

“I only want to ask you a question,” Rusty insisted. His Don Giovanni piece wouldn’t work as well if there wasn’t a backdrop made out of Connor’s men. Who would have thought? He was a stickler for detail. Also, since Connor insisted so much in showing ‘his true colors’, Rusty believed that a reversal in exposing the other would work just as fine.

Connor was about to fall off the stage in his struggle to get away from his so-called enemies, so Rusty had to let go of Matty to catch the asshole before he broke an arm or something. The collective gasp of disbelief from the crowd made him understand that it had been the wrong move on his part.

Still holding Connor to prevent him from falling, he turned his head.

“Rybalt!” Matty called out in his Slicky voice.

And there it was. Connor’s army. All dressed in black and grabbing Slicky Coolplums with unclear intentions. Rusty had to give it to his partner. Matty didn’t lose his composure, despite so many strangers putting their hands on him.

“I’m coming, my love,” he declaimed and pulled Connor up to ensure the guy’s safety.

They had the entire Sunny Hill watching, so he could bet that it was all an act on the others’ side, too. Matty struggled against his assailants, hissing and threatening to scratch with his claws. All this improvisation only served to make them shine as the stars of the event, Rusty believed, and began walking toward the group, swinging one arm as if he was brandishing an invisible sword.

He grunted when he was attacked from behind. Connor was on his back, squeezing him in what could have been interpreted as a bear hug. However, knowing the guy behind the bear hug, Rusty doubted it.

“Rusty!” Matty called out to him, this time in his normal voice, and alarmed.

Someone had pulled the wig off Matty’s head and it seemed like Connor’s shitheads weren’t playing anymore. Rusty pushed back against Connor, trying to shake him off.

“Dude, what the hell? Not cool,” he said through his teeth.

“Who’s the top dog now, Parker? Huh?” Connor breathed in his face.

“Eww, do you need a mint or something?”

“I brushed my teeth this morning!”

Rusty took advantage of the element of surprise and pushed Connor away. He hurried toward Matty, who was being dragged away by the shitheads. Were those guys for real?

Before he could open his mouth to shout for help, Maddox, Jonathan, Dex, Kane, and even Jonathan’s lanky roommate, Ray, were climbing onto the stage, rushing Connor’s army. Behind him, the leader of shitheads laughed like a mad man. He had the microphone and he seemed unafraid to use it.

“The problematic elements are now being removed from the premises,” he announced with delight. “Then, we can continue our meeting. In the name of a brighter future, Sunny Hill!” He even threw a punch in the air, Rusty noticed as he stole a look at him, still not believing that the asshole would fight so dirty.

Someone grunted and Rusty turned his full attention on the other side. Dex was holding his jaw and Kane was by his side. It looked like one shithead had thrown the first punch. Damn, this was going bad fast. Rusty hurried to hold his friend back, as Dex could turn into a beast if provoked beyond what he deemed acceptable.

“I got him,” Kane shouted at him, and Rusty moved past and grabbed Matty’s outstretched arm before he was completely engulfed by the madding crowd. He pulled, hoping that the shitheads would get the message, but he found himself being pulled forward, with a tight circle closing in around them.

“Not on my watch,” someone yelled in a girl’s voice. That was Zoey, perched high on Dex’s shoulders and ready to fight.

“Kids, kids, please,” another voice began pleading in what had to be a second microphone.

Everyone stopped whatever they were doing as if by magic. Dean Preston was now on stage, looking flustered and rubbing one button of his vest nervously.

“You are the one to blame for tolerating such elements on campus,” Connor’s shrill voice drowned out the dean’s calling for calm.

The poor man seemed chastised by such words. “Will you kids stop?” he pleaded again. “I do not want to have to call security.”

“We’ll stop,” Connor continue, “but you resign! Right here, right now!”

The dean stopped and looked at Connor in disbelief. At least, that was Rusty surmised, since he was still being held back by those assholes and couldn’t see everything.

“If that is what it takes to stop this… this war--” the dean began.

“No way!” Rusty shouted. He pushed those restraining him while ignoring a few grunts and grabbed Matty. Taken by surprise, the shitheads released them. “Mr. Preston, you don’t have to resign for this asshole’s sake,” he said.

The dean turned toward him with an apologetic look on his face. “Maybe it’s time I retire, Rusty. It looks like I’ve failed in looking after you all.”

“No, you chose to believe that we’re grownups and we can be responsible for our own actions. So yeah, maybe you were a little lax here and there, but frankly, we all love you for it,” Rusty declared. Then, he turned toward the crowd. “Isn’t that true, Sunny Hill? Dean Preston has always believed in us, not partying harder than we can, or getting up to more shenanigans than we can handle. He thinks we’re all good kids.”

Sounds of agreement began emerging from the crowd, making Rusty smile.

“Also, Mr. Preston, you make a killer cup of tea.”

The dean gave him a look of gratitude, but it looked like Connor was far from finished.

“Do not let yourself seduced by this rascal,” he shouted. “If we don’t have order, if we don’t have law--”

A screeching sound like someone was adjusting the audio channels coming out the speakers interrupted their verbal sparring. A flash of light and they all turned toward the big screen which must have been set up there for Connor’s later presentation.

Who really is Connor Williams?

The voice coming through had to be modulated because it didn’t sound entirely human.

The silence that followed spoke volumes. All eyes were now trained on the presentation screen, on which pics of a black pickup truck rolled out; the vehicle looked aggressive enough to jump off and run the audience down.

Thirteen miles per gallon? Hmm, that is how Connor Williams’s love for the environment looks in numbers, dear guys and gals of Sunny Hill. But it’s a hybrid, so it’s all ‘kay.

The silence was now replaced by whispers. Connor, of all people, seemed perturbed. He forgot to yell into the microphone and ran to his army. “Who’s out there?” he yelled. “Who’s running the projector?”

In the meantime, the presentation continued to roll on unperturbed.

Our dear leader of high morals seems to have certain tastes when it comes to titillating his superior intellect.

This time, the whispers turned into gasps of disbelief. The pic on the big screen showed a disheveled Connor looking mesmerized by a long female leg wearing an impossibly high heel. Rusty didn’t want to start throwing ideas around but that pretty much looked like a strip club to him.

“They’re photoshopped,” Connor began yelling into the microphone, as he seemed to remember he still had it. “Everything is photoshopped!” No one on his team seemed to have a clue who truly was in charge of the presentation rolling on the big screen.

And now, la pièce de résistance, my dearests. Connor might appear – and appeal – to you as the maverick, the outsider, but when it comes to romantic involvements, he doesn’t mind covering all his bases.

The next pics had been taken from afar, so the identity of the other people in them, besides Connor, was obscured. In one of them, Connor was embracing a girl in front of a movie theater, while in the next, he was busy fumbling in the semi-dark outside a club with a good looking guy.

Don’t get me wrong, Sunny Hill, the modulated voice continued. Being bi is totally cool. Being a two-timer, though… Neither the pretty gal, nor the handsome lad in these pictures know of the other’s existence. How’s that for your high morals, Connor Williams?

A few of Connor’s army finally sprang into action and hurried in the direction the unknown presentation seemed to be coming from, probably bent on taking down the person handling the projector.

And this is where we leave you, Sunny Hill. The choice is yours. We’re only bringing you the truth. Yours always true blue, Xpress, out.

Rusty exchanged a surprised look with Matty. “Pinch me, Matty, I must be dreaming, because I think Xpress just did a good thing for once in their existence.”

Matty only took his hand. And then, he lifted Rusty’s arm high. “Do we have a winner, Sunny Hill?” he yelled in his Slicky voice.

The crowd erupted into cheers. Connor straightened up and hurried toward the edge of the stage, gesticulating, but the deed was done. All he got from the audience were boos.

“Go home, Implacables!”

Rusty let out a sigh of relief and hugged Matty. Under the crowd’s pressure, Connor’s people were dispersing. All in a day’s work, and he had Xpress to thank. Who would have thought? Connor was still trying to gain some attention from the students of Sunny Hill, like a temporary king holding on to his fake crown.

Rusty took a bow and then took Matty to approach Dean Preston together. The dean was wiping his forehead with a pristine white handkerchief, probably still wondering what in the world had just happened.

“How about a group photo, Mr. Preston?”

He stood by the dean’s right and Matty flanked him from the left, while all their friends and random students crowded behind them.

“Oh, great, now who’s going to take the picture?” someone asked when they realized there was no one left to be in charge of a phone camera.

Rusty smiled. “Don’t you worry, guys. Something tells me we’re going to see ourselves in Xpress by tonight.”

TBC