He wasn't entirely shocked to see Livingston still in school after that; clearly, Hector got punched, but Livingston pulled what strings he had to stay in school without a suspension. Meanwhile, the hockey table was conspicuously missing Gabe, and then he saw why when Carl showed him the picture that seemed to make everyone's smartphones but Jared's -- too new...wait, no, there his went too. Well, that meant it was all over the school, because Jared was relatively new and not in the immediate loop. 

"That doesn't look good," he told the guys at the table, "And we have games to play." He was talking as if he were captain, even though Gabe was. He had experience and someone had to get the team to think straight.

"Look guys, it's wicked important that Gabe Montgomery has cover from the rest of the team until Livingston cools off, or fucks up bad enough to get suspended. You heard what he did to Hector South for joking and you also see him still sitting there," and there was Livingston at the football table, near the hockey table, but not close enough to hear because the hockey table wasn't quite cool kids country yet, "so you know the first thing the dude is going to think of is a way to get Gabe into a fight, because Gabe will go down harder than he does now that football is done."

There were nods from some of the other guys, though it was Kluge that looked a little disturbed, "Yeah, but doesn't the guy have a point, I mean, Gabe did screw his girlfriend, right? I mean what if he decides he likes Mandy?"

Jared grimaced, "I dunno. I mean, you've met David Livingston, right? He's a bit of a dick and no one's perfect. So just don't leave our guy out to hang. You can always tell Gabe to keep his fucking hands off. Just stick to the man like glue to and from class and to practice."

"I guess that's how Ricki got through those long, awful nights of dating Livingston," quipped Carl, "But this is fucked up man. Gabe's dick means we're gonna get in trouble?"

"What's this 'we' shit? You've got too many tardies anyway, Carl, you'll get detention if you're late again to class. Just tell Maureen what the hell we're doing."

"So how long, man?"

"How long what?"

"How long we gotta do this po-lice escort shit for Montgomery?"

"Hopefully not long. Teachers are bound to get wind of it fast." 

"What they gonna do about it?"

Jared shrugged, and this was about the time that Gabe was re-entering. When he slumped into a chair, there were some accusing stares, but Jared and Carl weren't among them. The mutters and the sotto voice comments went up though -- it was like a wave crashing on breakers throughout the lunchroom, and Livingston...well, Jared didn't need a rearview mirror to know that Livingston was looking at this table with a 'roid face.' The rest of the school seemed to expect something to happen immediately, but right now the tables involved were in a Mexican Standoff. Football table and hockey table were far enough apart that they couldn't hear each other without shouting, and shouting brought down teachers. Cheerleading table, which included Heather, was far enough away from where Ricki and her friends wound up that the same applied, though he assumed the girls were less likely to physically assault each other.

"Looks like word got around," Gabe said lamely.

"Yeah. Even to my phone. That means that even the Freshmen are enjoying that picture. Surprise, you're news."

"I have square this with Heather somehow," Gabe didn't look very confident on that front, and Jared didn't blame him.

"Sex?" Carl interjected. He tended to think sex solved everything.

Gabe shot Carl an incredulous look, but didn't seem to have a good response besides the skeptical look.

Jared cut in, "Well, can't do much here at school anyway, too many eyes. Besides, she's kinda surrounded by her friends, and they don't look happy." 

And that much was true, Heather had a small pack of friends and they were showing stony faces and stiff upper lip, but there would no doubt be emotional stuff later. Girls tended to travel in packs anyway, and worked together to keep a guy away if a specific girl in the pack didn't want to see the guy in question. Gabe wasn't going to get through then and there anyway. 

Gabe didn't reply, he just shrugged and got up, clearly intending to get some sort of lunch, or at least something to drink. Carl and Jared shot up to go with him.

"What gives, you guys gonna follow me to the bathroom, too?"

"If you gotta use the shitter, one of us is gonna be leaning against the stall, man."

"You sure about that?"

"Hey, you're the one that said Livingston didn't hit very hard."

"Yeah, well what about Hector South?" 

"Hector's a little guy, man, and you know that Tasha wrote that line anyway," Carl pointed out. "Livingston always picks the easy target, because my cousin would have pepper sprayed his ass."

He just hoped the football guys weren't planning on backing up their guy like that. Then again, their season was over. They could pretty much do whatever without fear of consequence.

---

Halfway through the strength and speed training, weights and the like, they did every Monday in the gym instead of the rink, according to the schedule, Jared realized that he had to go to Ricki's house. He cussed a bit halfway through a bench press, Carl spotting. And then he told Carl about the assignment.

"Man, maybe you need the damn po-lice escort," Carl told him, all too cheerful. He seemed to be getting a kick out of the whole thing.

"Yeah, well Livingston knows it, doesn't he? But he probably wants to kick Gabe's ass more than he wants to kick mine."

"Yeah, but he just might settle for you. That man does not look picky about whose ass he kicks right now."

"It's strictly business. Besides, his relationship is over, he can't seriously expect people to not interact with her now that he's not even her boyfriend anymore."

"Guess he didn't get that memo."

"I hope this shit is over soon."

"Look at it this way, some girl is bound to have the hots for him and this is her golden opportunity."

Jared lowered his voice, "Better hope that girl isn't Heather."

"Oh, shit." Carl realized. It could go that way, potentially.

Despite the vague fears that Livingston might have been parked outside of practice, waiting, or parked outside of Ricki Trenton's house, waiting, Jared managed to take his bike all the way up without being molested by the entire O-line of the Bears and when he knocked on the door, David Livingston didn't jump out of the bushes with a machete like some sort of Viet Cong.