Chapter Text
Much to Gosalyn’s dismay, Mr. Gilder told his class that there was a tiny Halloween scene in the movie. Which meant that they had to film the scene on Halloween.
Figures, she thought, letting out a sigh. If only the movie was set after or before Halloween.
She told this to Drake after school - the two had devised a system where, while waiting for Gosalyn’s foster parents, and on days Drake happened to be free at that time, she’d work on schoolwork and he’d run through his lines from the movie in each other’s company - who shrugged good-naturedly and said, “Well, at least I’m in that scene.”
Gosalyn had been ready to spit something sarcastic out in response, but she paused. Huh, if Drake would be in the Halloween scene . . . “So you’re going as a janitor for Halloween?”
He shot her a glare as she snickered. “Ha ha, very funny,” Drake said. “What are you going as?”
“Not a janitor, that’s for sure.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s a secret,” Gosalyn prompted. “Besides, a janitor doesn’t count as a Halloween costume. Movie or not.”
“So you’re saying I need an actual costume?”
“Mhm. Otherwise you’d be ruining the Halloween spirit.”
“Huh,” Drake said, sounding thoughtful. Then he gave her a sly look. “Shame if something were to happen to that spirit.”
Gosalyn dropped her pencil and dramatically gasped. “Don’t tell me you’re not going to wear a costume. That violates the Halloween Law!”
Drake couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “There’s a Halloween Law?”
“Well, of course there is!” Gos retorted, but she was grinning. “Everyone knows it. You’ve got to wear a costume on Halloween. That’s the law.”
“What if I don’t obey it?”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Gosalyn narrowed her eyes, offended. “You better show up with a costume on Halloween, Drake. It’s what you have to do if I have to be in a scene.”
“Aye, aye, Miss Waddlemeyer.” Drake gave her a little salute. Seemingly satisfied, Gosalyn went back to her homework, even though she gave him a look of mock suspicion five seconds later.
~
The morning of Halloween found Drake in the cafeteria, a cup of coffee in one hand and a muffin from the school on the table in front of him. He sat by himself at one of the tables and scrolled through his phone, waiting for his next filming session to start.
Just as he took a bite of his muffin, there was a loud “BOO!” right next to his ear.
Drake yelped and almost choked on his breakfast. He gulped down a third of his coffee before spinning around in his seat to find the culprit.
It was Gosalyn, dressed all in orange. She doubled over as she burst out laughing. “Oh man,” she wheezed. “That was priceless.”
“And good morning to you, too,” Drake grumbled, but his focus was directed at her Halloween costume. Orange sweatshirt, orange leggings, her regular sneakers, a pair of homemade animal ears and a tail; her hair was even puffed out a bit to resemble something like a mane.
“So you’re a lion today?” he remarked, amused.
Gosalyn straightened, still grinning from her prank. “Indeed I am,” she announced. She puffed her chest out a bit in an attempt to show him her costume. “The magnificent costume you’ve been so cruelly kept from knowing.”
“Ah yes. I was living in suspense for days - very cruel of you to do so,” he teased.
Gosalyn surveyed his clothes. Then she raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t in a costume.”
“I am not.”
“You’re not even in your janitor costume.”
“I believe there’s this thing called ‘coming early to work’, Gosalyn.”
She crossed her arms, but there was a hint of a smile on her beak. “Well, you still need a costume,” she informed him.
“Duly noted,” he said.
The tardy bell rang throughout the school. Gosalyn started, then glanced at the clock and frowned. Before she turned around, though, she added, “You better have some kind of other costume the next time I see you.”
“I’m afraid to say that this movie doesn’t have variety in janitor’s costumes.”
“Well, then, I blame the movie.” She waved to him. “See ya.”
Before he could reply, she turned around and hurried off to her class. Drake shook his head, taking another sip of his coffee.
~
Portia and Gos met up in their first class - science, something both girls were fairly good at - and immediately dove into sharing their experiences with their costumes. Portia had helped Gosalyn make her lion ears and tail, and Gosalyn was happy to report that Drake seemed to like her costume. Portia had gotten her costume over the weekend; she was dressed as Spider-Duck, mask and everything.
Their second-period History class began nearly an hour later, when they were told to follow their teacher to the gym to film a scene; and, as the class emerged in the gym, Gosalyn lit up. Drake stood a few feet away, in a circle of other actors and crew members.
The class was herded to a spot by one of the basketball hoops. Gosalyn leaned against one of the walls as Mr. Gilder gave them instructions for this scene. She tried her best to pay attention, but she knew Portia would catch her up to speed regardless.
She did. As soon as the class started moving into two separate groups, Gosalyn turned to Portia, her beak poised and open to ask a question -
“We’re playing some sort of sport for a Halloween Gym class scene,” Portia said without looking at her friend. “Not sure what sport.”
“Thanks, Porsh.” Gos winked at her friend. “I wonder what sport it is.”
The class went to the center of the gym. The director was still giving instructions to the crew of actors and other behind-the-scenes people needed, so the class lingered around in their small designated spot and started up several quiet threads of conversation. Portia turned to talk to someone about Halloween costumes; Gosalyn scuffed her shoes on the gym floor and didn’t talk to anyone.
Her heart swelled with relief when the director finally turned around and the small group of people he’d been talking to broke up, going off in different directions. Drake went over to one of the walls of the gym, and Gos noticed that he was wearing his janitor’s outfit now.
He finally caught sight of her; when he did, she shook her head in mock exasperation, then stared pointedly at his outfit.
Drake gave her an incredulous look and gestured to his costume. This is it, he mouthed.
Halloween Law, she mouthed back.
“Alright,” the director announced, breaking the two from their silent conversation. “Gym class but in your Halloween costumes. You -” He pointed to one of the crew members. “- find a basketball.”
Basketball? Gosalyn’s eyes lit up. Oh, she was going to make sure to crush everyone during this and get it caught on film. Then she could boast to Drake that she’d beat everyone. Look, Drake, she’d say, it’s even in a movie that people will watch. I’ll be famous!
In about the span of five minutes or less, someone in her class was given a basketball, they split up into two teams, and the teams burst into an excited collective spirit when the director yelled “action!”
Gos stood in front of the boy with the ball, crouching a bit and wiggling her fingers in anticipation. He swerved to the left - so did she, and she successfully grabbed the ball from him. She let herself smirk as she threw the ball into the hoop. One point to my team.
Her team whooped and cheered. Gosalyn moved out of the way, reveling in her moment of pride, and noticed Drake on the other end of the gym - he was watching her, since at the moment his scene hadn’t arrived yet. And he was smiling.
That gave her a little burst of pride, too.
Technically, they were only supposed to be in the background; the camera was solely focused on Amelia, who primly sat on the bleachers and was having an animated conversation with another actor who Gos guessed was a teacher. She didn’t entirely know, but the camera was trained on them, so she assumed so.
In the end - even though it was a short game of basketball - Gosalyn’s team won, with a score of seven-to-three. Her team cheered her while the opposite team cast her dark looks and a “thanks, Gosalyn” under their breaths. She smiled smugly in response.
The crew started packing away their equipment to move it out of the gym, and Mr. Gilder led the class back to their classroom. Gos waved at Drake (and got a wave back) just before she left the Gym.
Once they were back in their classroom, one of her classmates (dressed in a stereotypical ghost costume) - a bluebird, but she didn’t know his name - dropped into the desk right next to her. He turned to look at her.
“You scored way too many goals,” he said.
“Okay?” Gosalyn said, spreading her hands out. “Sorry. I’m good at basketball.”
The bluebird huffed, irritated. “I bet you had a lot of time to practice when you skipped like a month of school last year.”
When you skipped like a month of school.
Her blood ran cold.
She’d skipped a month of school because -
Well -
Because her grandfather had passed away.
And what had she done? Nothing. Absolutely nothing, except for crying over how much she missed him.
“I didn’t get anything done then,” she mumbled, suddenly finding the surface of her desk much more interesting.
“Really? So you skipped school for a month just because?”
Oh, now she could hear the pure taunt behind his voice. He knew what he was getting himself into - he didn’t want to rile up Gosalyn Waddlemeyer. Not after she’d just scored “too many goals”, as he’d put it.
“No,” she snapped. “Leave me alone.”
More or less of the entire class had started to look at them with interest. Gosalyn didn’t care. She knew Portia was eyeing her with a worried look, but this wasn’t Portia’s fight.
The bluebird smirked. “Sorry, didn’t realize you were so touchy about it.”
“Hey hey hey.” Mr. Gilder looked up from a stack of papers he’d been grading and frowned. “No fighting, please.”
The kids slowly went back to working on something quietly. The bluebird gave her a look before going back to his book.
“Sorry, didn’t realize you were such a jerk,” Gosalyn said under her breath, daring to look at the bluebird.
The class let out a collective ooooooooh.
The bluebird glared sharply at her. Mr. Gilder gave Gos a pointed look. She shrugged innocently and started to doodle in her notebook to pass the time.
As soon as the bell rang for the end of the day, Gosalyn lost no time in heading over to her designated table in the cafeteria. Portia followed her, reluctant with her words but providing a comforting presence nonetheless.
“My parents are here,” Portia finally said. She found Gosalyn’s hand and squeezed it. “Don’t let those kids get to you.”
“Easy for you to say,” Gosalyn said. She slumped forward on the table, resting her head on her arms. “You don’t get teased.”
“Hey, we’re going to pick you up for trick-or-treating tonight. That’ll take your mind off of it,” Portia said hopefully. “See you then.”
Gos waved to Portia as the latter gave her a reassuring smile, then turned around and headed out of the school. But Gosalyn only slumped even further after her friend had left, her mind swirling with too many thoughts.
~
Drake was understandibly surprised when he reached the table Gosalyn sat at and found that her unfizzleable spirit had somehow . . . fizzled out. The last time he’d seen her, she was practically beaming with pride at winning the basketball game - now she stared miserably out the window, giving no acknowledgement that he’d joined her. Not even one snarky comment.
It was sort of worrying.
“. . . hey,” he said uncertainly, sliding into the spot next to her. “Are you okay?”
“Peachy,” was her sullen answer.
“You don’t sound peachy.”
There was a beat of silence. Finally, Gosalyn drew in a deep breath, straightened, and rubbed her face. “I got teased by a jerk.”
Oh.
She got teased. Did she get teased all the time? Was it because she was a troublemaker, or was it because . . . oh, no, it couldn’t be because her grandfather had passed away last year. That would be horrible. Who even was it?? He wanted to know and -
“Why did they tease you?” Drake asked, interrupting his own mental rant.
She gave him a limp sort of shrug. “Scored too many goals during basketball.”
He sensed there was more to it than just beating the other team in a sports game, but he didn’t push it further. “That’s their problem,” he said instead. “You were great at playing basketball. Totally left the other kids in the dirt.”
That got a tiny smile out of her. “Thanks,” she said quietly.
“And don’t let those kids get to you,” Drake added. “If they’re really bothering you, then you can go to an adult and tell them. The teacher, the principal, your parents, me -” Well, actually, going to literally anyone else other than him would probably make more sense. He didn’t even know why he’d listed himself.
But Gos nodded, her eyes on the table. “It’s fine,” she said. “I’m kinda used to it. It’s not like it never happens.”
. . . she was used to it?
It’s not like it never happens -
Drake frowned, more bothered by this than he wanted to admit. “How often does it happen?”
She gave him a strange look. “It’s fine,” she repeated.
“Gosalyn . . .”
“I can handle it, okay?” Her tone filled with annoyance as she frowned right back at him. “Why do you care so much?”
What a good question, because he didn’t even know. They didn’t know each other that well, they’d only met at least two months ago, and as far as he knew they were pretty much opposites - yet he did not like the fact that she got teased or that it happened that often for her to get used to it, even if it still brought her down every time.
But Drake surprised himself with an answer to his question. “I got teased as a kid, too.”
Gosalyn looked up at him, eyes wide.
“You?” she said.
“I know, right?” Drake teased. “Not because I was good at sports, though. I was terrible at sports.” He thought for a minute. “Have you ever heard of the show Darkwing Duck?”
Mystified, Gosalyn shook her head.
“Well, it was my favorite show growing up -”
“Is it in black-and-white?”
Drake gave her a strange look. “What? No.”
Gosalyn made a vague gesture. “Well, if it was your favorite kid show, then it must be really old. ‘Cause you’re really old.”
Drake opened his mouth, extremely offended - but Gosalyn just grinned at him. He grinned back, secretly glad that at least she was smiling again.
“Darkwing Duck,” he said, leaning back in his seat, but not too far so he didn’t fall backwards off the lunch bench. “He’s a superhero who keeps getting beat up. He falls off buildings, steps on bombs, gets exploded almost every single episode -”
“Spider-Duck doesn’t step on bombs,” Gosalyn interrupted.
“Yeah, well, nuts to Spider-Duck. Anyway, Darkwing got beat up a lot, but he also kept getting back up. And that stuck with me,” Drake said fondly. “I really liked that show when I was little, but some people thought I was a nerd. So I got teased. A lot.
“But you know what I did?”
She was more interested than she was trying to let on, he could tell. “What?”
“I kept getting back up,” Drake said, sounding determined. “Just like Darkwing. And then I figured out how to not care if I got teased. I can tell it gets to you -” She shifted uncomfortably, but she didn’t say anything, so he figured he was right - “but you’re in control of your mind. You can tell yourself that you don’t care about it.”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled.
“You can! Might take some time, but you’ll get the hang of it. Besides, you have a ton of spirit, Gos - you should set it free. If someone says you score too many goals, then keep on scoring goals.” Drake playfully nudged her. “They’re just jealous.”
A smile bloomed across Gosalyn’s face. “Thanks, Drake,” she said softly.
“It’s noth -”
Before he could finish, she leaned over and hugged him. It was quick, and she sprang away almost as soon as it happened. Drake blinked in surprise.
Then he beamed, reached over, and rubbed her head.
“My foster parents are here,” Gosalyn suddenly said. She hopped off of the cafeteria bench and grabbed her backpack. “That didn’t happen.”
“Sure it didn’t,” he replied, amused. Then he grinned. “Hey, tomorrow’s November - see you next . . . month.”
She gave him a weird look and laughed. “That was bad.”
“Nonsense, that was great.”
But, as Drake watched her head out of the school and into the chilly afternoon, he couldn’t help but feel lighter. He’d somehow managed to bring her spirit back, so much that she had even laughed. And hugged him, too. Gosalyn didn’t particularly strike him as a hugger, so to get one from her felt . . . special, to say the least.
He felt like he knew her better after that.
