~+~+~+~+~+~+~

Warning: Contains Boys Love and vulgar language.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~


Chapter 14: A lie that can not convince the liar


Not even evening comedy shows could cheer him up. Right after Cameron had arrived home, he’d parked himself on the couch; sprawled out and hadn’t left since. Endless line-ups of comedians mocking everything from crazy in-laws to shopping at a grocery market passed by, and not once did he crack a smile. He just didn’t have the energy to do so.

“Cameron?” Cheryl called from the kitchen, only half-stepping out of said room to see if he had heard her. He leaned up a little and looked up over the couch.

“What?”

“I’m making food. Want any?”

Cameron shook his head, the simple movement eliciting a tiny sigh from deep within. He slid back down into his most recent position on the couch: slumped, with one arm hanging limply over the edge.

Cheryl entered the living room, her bare feet padding lightly across the floor until she stood behind the couch and looked down at him. “I honestly wouldn’t mind making extra. There’s more than enough.”

“Then share it with Morty,” he answered in a listless voice much like an exhale.

“Nah. He’s out with his family today. Some monthly family dinner thing.”

“Oh.” Cameron continued to gaze blankly at the TV, only vaguely aware of his sister staring at him. “I guess that explains why it’s nice and quiet around here.”

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Ha, ha. Nice one, Cameron. It’s easy to put all of the blame on him, but you get pretty loud when he’s around, too. It’s like the moment you two see each other, you guys forget the concept of ‘indoor voices’.”

Cameron just hummed.

Cheryl frowned. She grabbed his shoulder and shook him back and forth, startling him out of his troubled daze. “Hello, earth to Cameron. You alive in there?”

Cameron shrugged her hand off; his usually vibrant eyes dull focused solely on the TV a few feet away. “Quit it. That’s annoying.”

“Oh yeah? You brushing me off is pretty damn annoying, too.” Cheryl moseyed around the couch, both hands planted firmly on her hips, her lightly freckled elbows and arms jutting out at the sides much like triangular handles. She took one look at her brother’s morose expression; the corners of her mouth pulled back.

“Something’s up. Spill it.”

Cameron avoided Cheryl’s probing eyes and the sound of a single foot tapping on the ground restlessly while she waited impatiently for an answer. “It’s nothing,” he finally answered.

Cheryl made a face. “You’re a horrible liar. What happened?”

“Nothing of any importance,” Cameron grumbled, a little surprised at the bitterness that resonated in his voice.

“Oh really?” One eyebrow rose, nearly disappearing underneath Cheryl’s bangs until she swept them off to the side with the back of her hand. “Then why the long face?”

Cameron shrugged, unable to find the words to even begin describing the whole story to her. When it became apparent after a long, pregnant pause that he wasn’t going to answer any time in the near future, Cheryl’s already burning eyes narrowed into fiery slits. He inwardly squirmed at his sister’s intense tenacity. He couldn’t see this ‘family moment’ ending any time soon. “It was just a long day, that’s all.” He recognized the skeptical frown plastered on her face—the very same that their dad got every now and then—and frowned, burdened with guilt. “It was just the little things, I swear!”

Cheryl hummed. “The little things, huh?” A moment passed. Just when Cameron thought it was safe enough to slip back into his private world, where he could lick his internal and emotional wounds clean and rid it of poisonous bitterness, his sister shattered the illusion and added, “What little things?”

Cameron made a face and hoped that this would end soon. He didn’t like the penetrating look she had, and he didn’t like it when people tried to force things out of him. It always made forgiving and forgetting harder when people pried. “Can we just drop it? I don’t want to talk about—”

“Don’t want to talk about it? Oh, I’m sorry. Forgive me for showing an interest in your life,” Cheryl spat, eyebrows furrowing, the flesh creasing a little where her eyebrows met. “Don’t think that you can fool me, Cameron. We share a lot more than just a birthday, you know. I don’t care if we lived apart for a good number of years, I still know you damn well.” She stopped, seeming to consider something. She let out a low exhale, her previously stern expression softening, but only a little. “Look, Cameron…I know it’s hard to open up—believe me, I know—but you’ve been sitting there ever since you got home, sulky and being quiet. So, like it or not, I’m inclined to believe that something is really bothering you. Now,” she crossed her arms and shifted her stance onto the other foot, “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. I prefer the easy way. So just tell me already: what’s bugging you so damn much?”

Cameron frowned up at his sister, his throat dry long before he opened his mouth and demanded, “What makes you think something big had to have happened to put me in a bad mood?” He got up from the couch, and despite her being just a minute older than him, he towered over her by a good five inches. “I’m not allowed to be down in the dumps for no reason?”

Cheryl stared up at him defiantly, still as a statue and completely undeterred. “No. That’s just stupid. However, it’s obvious something happened, so you’re allowed to be in a bad mood.” She reached up and flicked her fingers against Cameron’s forehead, ignoring his small hiss of pain. “You hear that?” she added in the same unshakable tone, “You’re allowed. You’ve been sitting there, looking like some dormant volcano just about to wake up. There is no way that you’re ‘fine’, so just let whatever it is you’re feeling out already.”

Cameron shook his head, once again avoiding looking at his determined sister. “There’s nothing to let out. It’s just your imagination playing tricks on you.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fucking fire,” Cheryl sardonically chanted. She huffed and shook her head, as if attempting to shake away the hazy nonsense in order to clear her head. She looked beyond disbelief. “Are you kidding me? What are you avoiding this time?”

Cameron flinched. To his dismay, Cheryl noticed.

“Ah ha! I knew it! You are avoiding something again. What is it? Did someone hurt you?” Cheryl punched one clenched fist into the palm of her hand, that one moment resembling many tough-guy action flicks Cameron had seen over the years. Not that he wasn’t used to this seldom seen side of his sister: the aggressive, over-protective, fuck-with-my-loved-ones-and-you’re-going-down tomboy-ish side.

A minute passed with Cheryl spouting out random threats and insults about a situation she didn’t even know anything about. Each threat was a rough jab in an already bruised area when Cameron thought of Cheryl actually carrying out what were considered illegal threats against Elliot…

He shook his head and said as calmly as possible, “Cheryl, stop. There’s nothing to freak out over.”

Cheryl’s expression switched instantly from one of aggressive concern to annoyed frustration. “You say that about everything. It’s not illegal to actually express negative emotions, you know. It’s healthy. Much healthier than holding things in and ignoring them. C’mon, you’ll feel better if you just let it all out for once.”

Cameron swallowed thickly. “Just drop it, Cheryl.” The mere thought made his stomach turn. He knew that deep down, she was right, but it wasn’t just the thought of getting angry at someone who had hurt him that made his stomach toss and turn in a restless, nauseous sea. It was also the anger itself.

Cheryl studied him, her eyebrows weaving themselves together again as Cameron’s troubled expression continued to deepen.

“You’re really bothered by something…aren’t you?”

Cameron shrugged futilely. He wasn’t the least bit surprised that it had finally occurred to his sister that this wasn’t one of those random sad-spells that could be resolved after a little aggressive coaching here and there. “Does it really matter?”

Without warning, Cheryl lightly punched his shoulder. The only indication that it was meant to be playful was her awkward attempt at offering a consoling smile. “You idiot,” she chastised, proceeding to ruffle his hair under rough, but well-intentioned fingers. “Of course it matters. What a dumb thing to say.”

Cameron shrugged again, warmed by his sister’s awkward style of bonding, even if it didn’t help much. As much as he wanted to tell her what was wrong and just get it all off his chest, he couldn’t burden her with his temporary problems. For all he knew, everything could get better overnight. Why waste her time?

“So? You going to tell me now, or do I have to beat it out of you?”

Cameron gave a soft, weak smile and shook his head. Instead of waiting for her next monologue, he walked right on past her, faking a small yawn as he stretched his arms high above his head and headed for the stairs. “Nah, it doesn’t matter. It was just a long day. Anyway, I’m kind of tired. I’m going to bed,” he said, climbing up the first few steps.

Cheryl trailed after him to the base of the stairs, her stunned eyes wide like saucers. “Are you serious? It’s only six! Who in their right mind goes to bed at six?!”

Cameron inwardly sighed. Now there was the sister he knew. The lame sibling-bonding crap didn’t suit her, anyway. “Good-night,” he emphasized, well aware of the way Cheryl was probably seething, ready to take the stairway in both hands and rip it to pieces—with him still on them.

“What is this?” she shouted up the stairs, meaning for Cameron to hear her while he retreated to the sanctuary of his bedroom. “I spout out all of this mushy, lame bull-shit, and for what? Ugh!"


~+~+~+~+~+~+~


Dinner was only half ready when Elliot’s phone rang. He glanced over at the phone, then back to the simmering pot of noodles on the stove. Who called at dinnertime? Deciding that the noodles could stand to be alone for a minute or two, Elliot went and answered the phone on its fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Evening Elliot,” a familiar voice spoke on the other end. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No. I’m just cooking,” Elliot replied, instantly recognizing The President’s calm voice on the other end. “What’s up?”

“I just got back from work. Apparently someone had an accident—nothing lethal—and had to rush to the hospital. They were short-staffed and couldn’t reach anyone else, so I got called in for a few hours. I figured since I have time now, I’d call and see how you were doing.”

“Fine, I guess.” Words didn’t need to be said for Elliot to catch onto the silent question. “It could be worse.” Elliot walked over to the stove and checked the noodles. “…I told Cameron today,” he added after slight hesitation.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Elliot stirred the half-cooked noodles with a fork, and deciding that the heat was a little too low, turned it up a few more degrees. He turned around and leaned against the counter, a little troubled by the silence on the other end. “He took it better than I thought he would.”

The President hummed. There was some rustling on the other end. “He took it well?”

“I don’t think ‘well’ is the right word, but he wasn’t screaming at me. I think that’s a good sign.” Elliot swallowed thickly, recalling the dread leading up to, during, and after that particular conversation. “Actually, he was pretty energetic afterwards; couldn’t keep still. He kept trying to get me to do a cartwheel,” he added with an amused snort.

“You? A cartwheel? That I’d have to see,” The President chuckled lightly before falling into a sobering quiet again. “He was that energetic?”

“Pretty much.” Elliot went to check on his food, then stopped. “Wait. I know that tone.”

“What tone?”

“That one,” Elliot chastised. “You know something I don’t, don’t you?”

“That’s not possible,” The President said with a faint chuckle, no doubt laughing at Elliot’s accusation. “I don’t know Cameron on anything but a business level. However, I do have to admit that it sounds weird for anyone to behave like that after that sort of conversation…unless you sugar-coated things?”

Elliot frowned. “No,” he answered in a sharp voice. The mere suggestion was beyond insulting. “I didn’t.”

There was more rustling on the other end, then, “All right, I believe you. I was just thinking aloud. I suppose he really did handle it unusually well. Although, logically speaking, anyone else probably would have punched you in the face. I guess Cameron is just special like that.”

The dread and anxiety from just a few hours ago began scurrying around inside. Elliot took a deep, calming breath, but it didn’t help quiet the restless emotions inside. “Gee, thanks for the optimism.”

“You’re welcome. Speaking of Cameron, you mentioned a few days ago that you two were dati—”

“No,” Elliot interrupted with a sharp hiss, as if unwanted ears were listening in, no matter how absurd the idea was. “I said experiment.”

“All right, ‘experiment’. Whatever you say. How is that coming along?”

Elliot groaned, a light blush reddening his cheeks and ears. He frowned up at the ceiling fan, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the embarrassing conversation. “Do I really have to talk to you about that?”

“No. I was just wondering, especially with everything else going on. I can only imagine how complicated everything must be on your end. I was under the impression that you really liked him.”

The blush deepened. Elliot mumbled an inaudible curse, his hand rubbing uselessly at his face, attempting to massage the embarrassing heat away.

“Oh. Do you?” The President asked in an amused voice when Elliot didn’t answer. Elliot grumbled something incoherent again. The President outright laughed. “I’m not hearing a ‘no’. Speak up, I can’t hear you.”

“I said that it’s none of your damn business,” Elliot grumbled a little louder, his blush rising a few degrees in both heat and humiliation, thoroughly embarrassed that his best friend was laughing at him. “Stop laughing!”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then,” The President replied. Elliot could hear the cunning smile on his friend’s lips; he was no doubt amused by the current topic. “Why so defensive, Elliot? Oversensitive?”

Elliot snorted. “No.”

“Then you’re embarrassed? Uncomfortable?”

“Look,” Elliot began, “Why are you making such a big deal out of this?”

“I’m not. I’m making conversation. You’re the one that’s making a big deal out of this.”

Elliot’s eyes dropped until he was glowering at the floor, his jaw clenching when The President’s words echoed in his head. He shifted his feet, fingers tapping a tuneless rhythm on the counter. He cleared his throat and admitted in a muted voice, “You’re right.”

“You? Admitting I’m right aloud? Well, I must say I’m impressed,” The President answered in a sincere tone. “You’ve come a long way. Cameron must be a pretty good influence.”

Elliot’s blush reaffirmed its existence, but for a much more humbled reason. Flattering words always did tickle him pink.

“So, at the risk of getting yelled at, may I ask how it’s going?”

Elliot paused, his breath temporarily caught in his lungs. He cleared his throat and said, “Actually…I think it’s going well.” He made a face, surprised at his own answer. That hadn’t sounded right. “No, it is going well.”

“Fun times?”

“Yeah, surprisingly. I didn’t think I would, but…I dunno,” he trailed off, unable to find words to explain anything that’d happened and give it justice. Just the thought of the last little while with Cameron made him smile softly.

The President whistled a tune that Elliot quickly distinguished with distaste, especially when his friend began to add words. “Elliot and Cameron, sitting in a tree…”

“Oh shut up!” Elliot snapped, unable to keep a few small bursts of laughter from his voice. “Like you’d even know! When was the last time you ever dated anyone?”

“That’s for me to know, Elliot. Besides, you wouldn’t know either, since you two aren’t dating, either. Unless you’re too embarrassed to admit it,” was the sardonically vague reply. He chuckled when Elliot huffed and called him a smart-ass. “You know,” The President said, “I haven’t heard you laugh like that in a long while.”

The smiled disappeared from Elliot’s face. “Yeah, so?”

“Never mind. I was thinking aloud again. I just couldn’t help but notice that you seem happier these days. Not that I’m complaining. Personally, I think it’s a good thing.”

Elliot opened his mouth, then stopped, not exactly sure what to say to that. The way The President talked, he made it sound as if he were completely miserable before he’d started hanging out with Cameron. While that was not completely true, he had to admit that The President wasn’t completely wrong, either. The revelation made his heart swell in his chest to the point where he was momentarily aware of nothing else but that strange feeling. “Yeah…I guess I am happy.”

“And with any luck, things will sort themselves out and you’ll stay happy.”

Elliot nodded, hoping that he was right despite the rest of the world and his own antagonistic thoughts and his mistakes. What he wouldn’t give to be able to solve everything; take back any pain he’d accidentally inflicted on anyone else. “Right.”

“Say, didn’t you say something about cooking earlier?”

“Yeah, I—Oh shit!” Elliot physically lurched, diving for the stove and snapping the heat off with a quick turn of the knob. He stared at the overflowing pot of steaming, bubbling water, and overcooked noodles. The corner of his mouth twitched when he realized with distaste that the noodles were probably beyond salvaging and completely inedible. He couldn’t believe that he didn’t even hear or smell the mess that it currently was.

“Well, I’ll let you go now,” The President replied in a non-chalant voice. “Bye.”

Elliot nodded, his lips pressing together in a sad attempt at a smile. “Right,” he forced between gritted teeth, glaring holes through the pot of ruined food. “Bye.” He walked across the kitchen and hung up the phone, then took one last look at ruined noodles before sighing and reaching for an oven mitt to keep his hand safe from the over-heated handle of the pot.

Muffin came strutting around the corner, her golden eyes fixed on the pot Elliot held over the open garbage bin. Elliot glanced at her briefly as he dumped out the wasted food.

“I don’t think even you would want to eat this,” he warned the fluffy cat, who only licked her nose and meowed in protest, gazing longingly at the now empty pot. Elliot rolled his eyes and resolved to just grabbing a bright red apple out of a nearby fruit bowl. He sauntered off to the living room with Muffin at his heels, then collapsed onto a comfy armchair. His hand blindly felt the table beside the armchair for the remote. His mind wandered back to the conversation while the TV screen flashed on and displayed gorgeous actors and dramatic music. He considered the last thing The President had said right when he took that first delicious bite, and allowed his mind to ponder. By the time he’d eaten down to the very core of the apple, he’d formed a plan.


~+~+~+~+~+~+~


He’d spent the better part of the night thinking and planning. Now that second period had arrived, Elliot was ready for his next attempt at sewing the loose seams of his life back together again.

As he had predicted, Jacqueline was stalling. She hadn’t arrived to second period before he did, which in the old and usual scheme of things would have been considered unusual, seeing as her first period class was closer to second period than his. Hopefully that didn’t become the new norm. He dropped his book bag by his desk and went back outside the classroom, where he proceeded to wait for his friend with bated breath. It wasn’t the most elaborate plan in the world, but at this point it was better than nothing.

The usual torrent of students rushed by. A minute passed, then another. Elliot glanced up and down the hallway, fingers tapping impatiently against his crossed arms. Another minute slipped by. Unwilling to just stand there the whole short break and wait for her, Elliot went to go and look for her when he spotted a white-blonde curly haired girl turning onto their hallway. Elliot paused, his body still and his mind rushing. When Jacqueline raised her weary-looking head and her eyes met his, she instantly froze, looking completely lost with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. It was only when she looked away that she began to rigidly move again.

Even with only a minute left, Elliot’s determination didn’t waver. He couldn’t give up, nor could he let himself continue to sit back and do nothing. When Jacqueline got close enough, he stepped in front of the doorway. Jacqueline kept her eyes down, but made no move to force him to move out of the way.

Elliot cleared his throat. “Morning, Jacqueline.” He caught the tiniest flinch in his friend’s shoulders at the sound of her name. He uncrossed his arms, hoping that it made him look less intimidating. He didn’t like blocking the way, nothing about that felt right, but after yesterday, he knew that he had to do it in order to get her to listen. She would continue to avoid him if he didn’t step up and assert his existence. “How’re you?”

“Good,” she responded in a voice too weak and tired. It didn’t sound anything at all like the kind-hearted and happy friend he was used to. He had no one to blame for that but himself.

“That’s good.” Aware that minutes—even seconds—were too precious and limited for stalling, he said, “Listen, about what happened…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jacqueline forced out in a breathy rush.

“No. I can’t help but worry,” Elliot protested, lowering his voice to a private hush. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to overhear and misinterpret the conversation, which would no doubt start slanderous wildfires along the gossip hotline. This was between the two of them; he didn’t want anyone interfering. Things were fragile enough as they were. “You’re one of my best friends—one of my oldest ones, too—and I still want to be friends with you.” He paused and allowed Jacqueline a moment to absorb the first batch of words. “I know I screwed up big time, and for that I’m sorry…but if it’s possible, I want to remain friends. I don’t want things to just end here.”

The only movement in Jacqueline’s body that suggested there was life was her bosom swelling with each intake of air. When she finally looked up into Elliot’s steady and anticipating eyes, her gray-blue eyes were already wet; he was stunned to see forgiveness gleaming there.

“I don’t think I could ever deny that face,” she replied weakly, her voice hushed and private, for their ears only.

A moment passed, Elliot’s physical being too stunned to react. Without warning, his heart exploded with relief. He swept her up into a rib-crushing hug, his arms squeezing the very air out of her lungs.

“Thank you,” he whispered against her hair, aware of how stiff and awkward she felt in his arms, but too happy to care at that very moment. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll never hurt you again. I promise.”

Jacqueline hesitated, then murmured, “People are looking at us funny…”

“Fuck them. I’m too happy to care.” He let go of her and pulled back enough to look her straight in the eyes. “I meant what I said.” He could see that while she accepted each word he said in the same quiet and patient manner as always, she didn’t look very convinced. But he’d show her. He was a man of his word, and there was no way he’d go back on his promise. “I’ll never hurt you again.”

Jacqueline looked away and shrugged, the shrill school bell answering for her as well as signaling for the start of class. Ever determined to help kick start their friendship back onto the right track, Elliot stepped out of the way so that Jacqueline could walk by, seemingly aware of the way people nearby eyed them. They both took their respective seats, and had barely just sat down when the people around them immediately turned around to face them.

“What was that?” One boy beside Jacqueline asked, to which she merely shrugged, her generally pleasant gaze dropping heavily to her desk. The same boy raised an eyebrow at Elliot, silently asking the same question.

“None of your business,” Elliot replied curtly, eyes narrowing when the people around them shot displeased looks at him. Before anything else could be said, the beginning of their teacher’s rambling cut the conversation short. Elliot pulled out his books from his book bag, watching Jacqueline out of the corner of his eyes. After a week of this, she really did look no better, but she also didn’t look any worse. Nothing was fixed yet, of course he knew that, and neither was he absolved from his mistakes. However, this was a start, and a rather decent one at that. Things would get better. He just knew it.

When second period ended, they gathered their things and exited the classroom in a stiff, unyielding silence. Elliot buried his hands into his pockets to keep himself from fidgeting. Every now and then he glanced down at his white-blonde haired friend, who constantly kept a good foot away from him while they slowly trudged side by side, her tiny shoulders hunched, and her hands gripping a text book to her ample bosom in a vice-like grip.

“I’m glad,” he began when they entered a hallway less inhabited by noisy beings, “That we’re still friends.”

Jacqueline pulled her blank stare up from the floor and dragged it onto him. “Really?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Jacqueline shrugged. "I wasn't sure if you'd still want to be friends after...that."

“Well, I am,” Elliot insisted. “I missed having you around. It wasn’t the same.”

Jacqueline was staring at the floor again, her pace slowing down even more. Elliot slowed down to match her soft trudging until they finally came to a stop at a corner of the hallway just out of the way of anyone who walked by, settled nicely between the open doors and the beginning of a long row of lockers.

“I never should have used you like I did…it was wrong. I was wrong.” His already bruised pride throbbed inside, but it needed to be said, and he’d say it however many times it would take before she believed him. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to regain your trust and respect.” He studied Jacqueline’s forlorn expression and hoped that his words were getting through.

Jacqueline fiddled with the corner of her hardcover textbook as his words settled in. “You know, I missed being here. I wanted to come here, but at the same time, I didn’t. Yet it was all I could think about day in and day out.” A tiny, almost invisible smile fleeted over her lips before quickly disappearing. “About being here, about what happened, about your phone call…” she trailed off, her soft words dangling in the air, awaiting its closure. She finally looked up at Elliot. The corners of her mouth pulling back into something a stranger might have mistook for a smile. “I knew what happened was a mistake—how could it not?—but you looked so desperate and scared…I didn’t know what you were thinking, much less what had you so perturbed in the first place. Yet, when you said ‘please’, it was all I could do but just let you.” She stopped, her lips pursing together, as if holding something back. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Despite its entrance, she attempted a more convincing smile as she wiped at the wetness underneath her eyes.

It was all Elliot could do but stand there, his heart aching for her and how much he had hurt her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Jacqueline so much as tear up over anything that concerned herself.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her voice thick and shaky. “It’s just…thinking or talking about it reminds me of the entire week. I was so sure I’d lost you as a friend. I know you said that wouldn't change...but you can't promise that. people break promises.” She was still smiling, even while she continually dabbed her fingertips against her eyelids, shyly keeping her gaze away from any curious passerby’s. “I was certain that you thought less of me and wanted nothing to do with me.”

Unable to just stand around, Elliot stepped forward and encircled his arms around her small frame, eternally thankful when she relaxed a little in his embrace. She pressed her cheek against his collarbone and sniffled a little, her smaller, curvier body shaking a little with each intake breath. He rubbed her back, hoping to cease the tiny tremors that he felt against his hand.

She pulled away after a moment, her eyes downcast, and her long white-blonde curls acting like curtains, hiding her reddened and wet expression from everyone else but Elliot. “I’m sorry for getting a little emotional,” she apologized. “It’s…it’s been a long week.”

“Yeah.” Just the very thought exhausted him. “Don’t worry about it. Don’t even apologize, okay? It’s not your fault.” He offered her a comforting grin. “Everything’s going to be okay now.”

There was a visible hesitation, but Jacqueline nodded. Her eyes drifted off to the side where they paused, stared, then tore away, just as she unexpectedly pulled away from Elliot, severing off the embrace.

Elliot blinked, stunned at his friend’s uncharacteristic brashness. “What?”

“Nothing.” She smiled, fingers rapidly rapping against her textbook with light and anxious thuds. “I have to go to the ladies room. I’ll see you in class?”

“Yeah, sure,” Elliot responded a few reactions too slow, still surprised at Jacqueline’s short, blunt sentences. He watched her leave, hugging her textbook protectively, gradually picking up speed until she completely hurried right past the ladies room. A light frown crossed Elliot’s features, his friend’s unusual behavior only perplexing him more until he caught the unmistakable sight of rusty orange hair and a pair of blue-green eyes that stared back at him in the same stunned manner. Elliot instantly realized whom Jacqueline had spotted and why she had hurried out of there.

Cameron…?


~+~+~+~+~+~+~


Any weary and over-used thought of the week getting better had jumped out the metaphorical window when Cameron had spotted Elliot and Jacqueline—together—at the corner of a nearby hallway that cross-sectioned with the one he was currently exiting. His body stopped dead in its tracks, eyes transfixed, heart racing and mind flourishing with less than savory thoughts.

Elliot’s lips were moving, no doubt speaking, but the words were too far away for Cameron to hear. Jacqueline—wet eyed and smiling Jacqueline—was also talking…Then Elliot’s arms were around her, and all life and activity around Cameron ceased to be.

He’s…He’s…How could he? What is he doing? What’s going on?!

His heart was in an uproar. Flashes of yesterday’s confession flooded in his mind with the unstoppable force of a tsunami. All he could see were those two, off in a corner and in their own little world, looking like a picture-perfect couple.

He wanted to scream.

A gentle hand touched his shoulder. He turned around and faced Elena, his mind still raging with conflicting emotions. “What?”

She stared at him with a bemused expression, only the slightest twitch of a single eyebrow indicating her displeasure of his snapping tone. When she looked past him and saw what he had seen, she offered him a sympathetic frown.

That single look brought Cameron down from dangerous heights, replacing his angered desperation with raw guilt. “Sorry,” he murmured in a defeated tone. “You didn’t deserve that. I just…” he trailed off. He didn’t even know how to end that sentence.

Elena nodded, understanding the simple implication of more complex matters. Then, to Cameron’s surprise, she took Cameron by the shoulders, turned him around, and shoved him in the direction of the two blonds just a few feet away.

“Elena…!” he gasped, his body weakening at the very sight of the two just head, even as they parted. He looked over his shoulder—he was willing to look anywhere but in front of him—except Elena had already entered the current of students and was long gone. Shit! I can’t do this, not after seeing that.

Despite his unwillingness, he looked back to where the two blonds were and right into the glimmering gray-blue eyes of Jacqueline. They both stared, completely and horribly transfixed by the other. Jacqueline looked away, her mouth moving too fast for Cameron to visually interpret. The next thing he knew, she was rushing right by him so quickly that he felt a tiny bit of a breeze. But his eyes didn’t follow her. They stayed put, observing the dirty-blond haired boy that watch Jacqueline flee with a pained expression of bafflement. There was only a brief moment’s warning for Cameron to brace himself before Elliot finally spotted him.

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!

There was no way he could do this. He didn’t have the strength for this, not when he felt weak and absolutely vulnerable against the new situation. How could he be expected to handle all of this when the internal wound was still fresh and throbbing, and every reminder of it was like stabbing a knife right in the center of the gaping wound? He couldn’t do it. There was no way he could—

But the moment their eyes met and they acknowledged each other changed that; the deal was sealed before he could consciously consent. His very knees felt weak and unsteady, as if one step off balance could completely break him. But he had to do it.

Gripping the strap of his messenger bag, Cameron crossed the short distance between them and approached the stunned dirty-blond haired boy. He gestured down the same hallway Jacqueline had recently fled. “H-Hey. What’s up?”

Elliot shrugged heavily. He didn’t seem to notice the slight stutter in Cameron’s speech. If he did, he made no gesture to imply as such. “Jacqueline and I were just talking.”

Cameron internally flinched. You call hugging ‘just talking’?! No, no, stay calm, Cameron. Relax. There’s got to be a reason, right? Don’t jump to conclusions.

“Yeah?” Cameron sidestepped out of the way of a last few student’s that walked by. Despite his emotional unease, he settled for standing beside Elliot. Excluding the both of them, the hallway was practically deserted. “You guys cool again?”

Elliot nodded, although he didn’t look entirely convinced. “I think so. We talked, and she still wants to be friends, but I’m thinking it might still take some more time.”

“I see.” Cameron hoped he sounded sympathetic enough. As much as he wanted Elliot to get along with his friend again, there was still a prominent part of him that felt significantly angry and betrayed, but the last thing he wanted was to make things for difficult for Elliot. He’d had his night to be selfish and angry. Why couldn’t he just let this go like he did everything else? “That’s…cool. I’m glad things are beginning to work out.”

Elliot hummed in agreement. He slumped against the wall, looking entirely drained of energy. “Me, too,” he sighed. “You have no idea how relieved I am right now. Even if thing’s aren’t near-perfect again, this is really more than I could hope for at the moment.”

Cameron’s heart wrenched. When he realized that he was beginning to shake a little, he mentally scolded himself. What am I doing? I should be happy! He’s happier; things are looking better and brighter for him. Why can’t I be happy for him? Why can’t I just let this go?!

“About the other day,” Elliot began, unaware of Cameron’s current inner struggle, “I know I didn’t say this when I probably should have, but thanks.”

Before Cameron could stop himself, he frowned apprehensively and blurted out, “For what?”

“For not freaking out at me when I told you what happened?” Elliot answered, biting the corner of his bottom lip. He scratched his head and diverted his gaze elsewhere. “For listening? For trying to cheer me up?”

“Oh.” Though words failed him, thoughts didn’t. Cameron mentally cursed himself again. He couldn’t believe this. Yes, the guy had hurt him, but he’d made a mistake, and it was more than obvious in multiple ends that Elliot was trying his best to fix everything…and yet he still couldn’t let it go. The pain was still there, and those last few compliments only made him feel worse about it.

After quickly recollecting himself, Cameron murmured, “You’re welcome. Glad I could help.” He shuffled his feet when Elliot began to study him with an observant expression that grew more intense by the second.

“Cameron, are you okay?”

Cameron sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and glued his eyes onto his green converse. “Totally,” he muttered, unable to keep a bitter edge out of his voice, in turn earning him a mental slap to the head.

“Are you—” The warning bell cut Elliot off. Elliot glared at the direction from where the sound originated and mumbled something about the school bell having the worst timing. He sighed and pulled away from the wall. “I have to get going now, as do you,” he said, poking the redhead in the shoulder when he didn’t look up. Elliot frowned when Cameron didn’t react. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Cameron mumbled. The lie tasted bitter and rotten in his mouth. He quickly corrected himself. “Maybe. I don’t know.” He eyed the empty hallways, knowing full well that he was going to be late for class, not that he cared at that exact moment. Elliot probably did, though. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. You should get going, or else you’ll be late for class.”

“Class can wait,” Elliot responded, shocking Cameron enough to make him look back at the dirty-blond haired boy with wide eyes. “I know that I haven’t known you for that long of a time, so I don’t know you all that well, but you’re acting weird. What’s wrong?”

Cameron’s freckled hand gripped his messenger bag’s strap, squeezing it until the muscles in his hand ached from exhaustion. He wanted to name off all of the reasons why he’d had trouble sleeping the night before, all of the reasons why he had trouble being in the other boy’s presence without feeling torn between wanting to kiss and kick him. Instead, he clenched his jaw and shook his head. If there was one thing that made him even more uncomfortable than lying, it was conflicts. Especially the avoidable ones. In his experience, it had always been much easier to just shrug off problems than to create even more problems with them.

Except…attempting to shrug all of this off was proving itself something that maybe even he couldn’t ignore.

One last bell rang, officially labeling the both of them as tardy. Neither of them moved. Cameron squirmed, wanting to leave but unable to, not so long as Elliot continued to stare at him the way he did. Each second after that final bell only punctuated the fact that Elliot was still standing there. By the looks of things, he wasn’t leaving any time soon.

Elliot crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Silence isn’t very convincing, you know. Come on, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He didn’t need to look at the other boy to know that he was more than likely frowning at his reluctance to answer his questions. Cameron inhaled deeply, and exhaled shakily. “Look, Elliot…everything’s fine. Really. I’m just…I’m just having an off day, you know?”

Elliot stared at Cameron long and hard before replying, “You do look tired, but are you sure?”

Cameron nodded, his insides clenching again with guilt. He felt sick. “Positive.” It’d taken him a long time to simply get anywhere with Elliot, from acquaintances to friends, to whatever the hell they were now. There was no way he was going to let himself be selfish and ramble off the unimportant thoughts and feelings that were collecting inside when things were only just beginning to look up for Elliot, and especially not after he had thanked him for being helpful the day before.

He’d find a way to get over it somehow. Eventually.

Elliot didn’t look any more convinced than a minute ago, but he uncrossed his arms and seemed to accept the answer, at least temporarily. “All right, then. I guess I better get going now.” He made to move, then paused, hesitating. He added, “I know you already said you were fine, but if you need anything, let me know. Okay?” Then, almost bashfully, he added, “You know, since you helped me out. It’s only fair.”

Cameron opened his mouth to decline the offer, but instead what came out was: “A hug.”

Elliot blinked, stunned. “A hug?” he repeated.

Cameron was stunned, too. Me and my big mouth…! He went along with his blunder and nodded. “Yeah. A hug.” He recalled how Elliot had hugged Jacqueline earlier. Although he wished he couldn’t remember that at all, it made him yearn for a hug, too.

“Oh…” Elliot mumbled. He glanced over his shoulder at the classrooms just down the hall. Some of the doors were half-closed, other’s wide open, and only a few were completely closed. Other than the few closed doors, the other classroom’s littered the air with a peculiar mixture of both strong and meek voices, nowhere near loud enough to intrude upon their own conversation, but certainly noticeable now that they’d both fallen quiet.

Cameron’s insides plummeted down a bottomless pit when he realized that Elliot was probably scared of getting caught hugging another male out in the open.

He’ll hug her out in the open, but when it’s me…He didn’t dare finish that thought. A tiny, shaky laugh escaped him when he realized just how much impact the other boy’s actions and words had on him. He didn’t know he could stand there as collected as he did.

“You know what, forget about it,” Cameron murmured, still laughing in a light, nervous fashion. Even through the laughter, he thought that he could hear the sound of his own heart breaking. “You have to get to class any—”

Before Cameron could finish, Elliot surged forward. His arms slipped around him, maneuvering around Cameron’s messenger bag, and held him tightly within a protective hug. Then, without hesitation, he rested his cheek on Cameron’s shoulder and stood absolutely still. Just holding him there, lost in the moment. Cameron’s breath caught in his throat, his mind going numb for a brief second before the familiar warmth and scent of the other boy made him melt in the embrace. He snaked his arms around Elliot’s waist and closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment to believe that everything was okay and that there was nothing for him to be upset over.

“Cameron?”

“Hmm?” Cameron hummed, eyes still closed tightly.

“You’re a horrible liar.”

Cameron smiled sadly, a soft sigh escaping him. “Believe it or not, you’re not the first to tell me that.” He opened his eyes and laughed weakly. “Not that I’m proud of it or anything.”

“Yeah,” Elliot mumbled against Cameron’s shoulder. He loosened his grip around Cameron enough to pull back and look him in the eyes. “I don’t like seeing you down. It doesn’t suit you. You’d tell me what’s wrong, right?” When Cameron fell into a heavy silence, Elliot added, “Is…this about yesterday?”

Cameron snapped out of his silence. “What? No, of course not. Don’t be silly,” he said, once again smiling and laughing in a way so forced it was painful to his own ears. Even though Elliot had already stated his awareness of Cameron’s horrible lying skills, he said in a quiet voice, “It’s okay. Everything will be fine.” He wanted Elliot to believe it just as much as he wanted to.

“…Fine,” Elliot mumbled, his grip around Cameron loosening until his hands fell away from him. “I don’t believe you, but whatever you say.”

Cameron swallowed thickly. He knew Elliot just wanted to help, but things were better off this way. He reluctantly pulled his hands away from Elliot and reshouldered his messenger bag. “I’ll see you later, then.” He’d only taken a few steps back when a thought occurred to him. “You’re coming by at lunch, right?”

“Yeah—Oh…!” Elliot frowned, the corners of his lips pulling back into a semi-grimace. “No, I can’t. I have Student Council work.”

“Oh.” Cameron clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He continued drifting back, attempting to keep the inevitable disappointment from tinting his voice in hues too heavy to speak with. “That’s…cool. I guess I’ll see you some other time, then.”

Elliot nodded, falling quiet. He murmured a good-bye, then turned around and began heading in the opposite direction.

Cameron glued his eyes onto the semi-dirty floor as he trudged along, not in any hurry to get to class. A few minutes alone while the rest of the school was in class seemed pretty good right about then.

“Great,” he sighed to no one in particular. So much for looking forward to lunch.


~+~+~+~+~+~+~


To be continued