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Warning: Contains Boys Love and vulgar language.

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Chapter 18: Pros and Cons (Part A)


Boyfriend.

Such a simple sounding word, but for such “simple word” so much seemed to change because of it. During Thursday’s football game, after they’d both agreed to take their whatever-it-originally-was relationship to the next level and make themselves an official item, Elliot became aware of something shifting, and not just shifting, but changing altogether. Elliot wasn’t sure what it was—maybe it was the word and its context, or maybe it was his own feelings—but it was definitely something.

Regardless of what it was exactly, the next seven days certainly proved its existence. Whenever they saw each other in the hallways, a certain moment would occur: time would graciously stand still for them, and then there’d be that something extra that Elliot couldn’t put a name to. A timid smile would overtake Cameron, a smile so small and private that Elliot was certain that he was the only one to ever have seen it knew what it was for. Elliot’s response would always be the same: a soft, matching smile of his own.

Then there were the times when he was alone, either in class or heading towards the next one. He’d look around. His jaw would clench as he wondered if anyone had seen or heard them during the football game on Thursday. Sometimes he’d catch the eye of another student, and a jolt would strike him—had they seen? Had they heard? Did they know?—and then they’d both look away, and Elliot would curse himself for his unfounded paranoia. After all, he hadn’t heard anything in terms of gossip. No one had approached him about it. Therefore, he was in the clear.

Or so he told himself while looking all around, his only reassurance being his persistence in denying the unknown.

On the days when Elliot wasn’t needed for the Student Council’s budgeting, that humbleness would make its return at lunch hour. Elliot would take a seat near the group and yet still distanced, then everything would play out in its own way. Cameron would be up and around, either competing playfully with Maxi or temporarily enraptured in something Alison was debating. Cameron would be just one huge ball of energy, never able to sit still long enough for a proper chat. However, Cameron would always retire right beside Elliot near the end of lunch. The freckled boy would complain about how cold it was getting while occasionally brushing his shoulder and hand against Elliot’s. As a result Elliot’s heart would always jump at the contact, and though he would return the touch he couldn’t help but subtly glance around to see if anyone had noticed. So far as he could tell, no one had. He wasn’t even sure if any of the others knew about the two of them now…aside from the two of them, the rest of the group hadn’t changed.

Nevertheless, their slight touches never went any further. Ever since the word “boyfriend” had been said between them, an uncharacteristic shyness had overcome Elliot. He couldn’t look at the other boy, much less think of him, without being reminded that they were together. Telling by the tiny and unprovoked smiles that always lit up Cameron’s face, there was no doubt the other boy also experienced the same thing.

An hour every other day wasn’t enough. Parting after lunch always left Elliot wanting to ask Cameron if he was busy after school, but his own shyness held such questions back. It always left him flustered at his own shy-induced hesitance. By the time he’d work up enough courage to ask, the second bell would ring and there’d be no time to ask. It occurred to Elliot to call Cameron after school, except any hope of asking after school was squashed underneath the weight of textbooks and homework as it got closer and closer to mid-term exams. As if he had the time.

His frustration would gnaw at him until the next day. He’d be walking to some class while looking around, and he’d catch Cameron walking to his class. The cycle of shy, private smiles would repeat itself, and the rest of the day would continue with a brighter silver lining.


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A week had passed and the next Thursday was the start of an early weekend. Friday’s classes were canceled due to a teacher in-service. As far as Elliot was concerned, he had a long weekend to relax the best he could while looking over university applications. Even if the majority of them weren't due for several more months, he still needed to thoroughly research all of them before making a final decision; something best done early on.

Until the high and rumbling chirp of the phone interrupted his plans.

Elliot looked up from the university applications on the dining room table, startled out of his academically pensive thoughts. The second ring shocked his body back to motion. He answered on the third ring.

“Guess who?” the familiar voice said on the other end. Elliot couldn’t help but bite his lower lip from grinning like an idiot. It was a surprise, but a very pleasant one. Definitely a nice break from pondering his future career.

“Hello,” Elliot replied. “What’s up?”

“Not much—except for the fact that I’ve unwillingly sold my soul to Mr. Clean and Windex.”

Elliot caught Muffin sauntering in from around the corner and headed towards him. She rubbed up against his jeaned leg in a lazy but affectionate way. “You sold your soul…?” Elliot said.

“Yeah. Dad and Cheryl are doin' this major clean-up of the place, and I have to help, especially since Cheryl's gone all afternoon tomorrow. We’re having this huge party on Saturday. Lots of friends and family members. This place has to be completely spotless,” Cameron explained, his tone exasperated by the time he’d spoken the last word. “Which actually brings me to why I called: do ya have any plans this Saturday?”

Elliot hummed, absent-mindedly rubbing his socked foot along Muffin’s furry back. “Does this by any chance have anything to do with the party?”

“Nah, that’s pure coincidence. Yes, the party. It’s my birthday party.”

Elliot halted petting Muffin with his foot. He ignored her even as she pushed against him and demanded for more attention. Had he heard that right? “Your birthday party?”

“Well, it’s not just mine…but yeah. My birthday's not until the twenty-first but with Christmas that close you kinda have to celebrate early. That, or merge the two together, which would suck.”

“Yeah, I imagine that would.” Not that he’d really know, what with his birthday being in late summer and all. Elliot finally gave into Muffin’s demands and bent down to stroke the soft fur behind her ear. There was short pause before he said, “I didn’t know your birthday was this close.” Actually, there wasn’t all that much that he did know when he really thought about it…just a few snippets of details here and there. “How old are you turning?”

“Eighteen years young," Cameron replied with glee.

“Eighteen?” Elliot repeated, a little befuddled. “I could have sworn you were younger…aren’t you a junior or something?”

“Well, yeah. I’m supposed to be a senior, but I kinda screwed up in some classes in middle school and got held back a year. No biggie, though.” There was no doubt that Cameron was shrugging on the other end, as if it were really weren’t a big deal at all. “Anyways, I’m sorry for this being short-notice and all, but are ya coming?”

“Of course,” Elliot said. His hand paused against Muffin’s ear as a thought occurred to him. “Wait, family? Do you mean more than just your dad and sister?”

“Yup! My family's’ pretty big on large gatherings and whatnot, and Dad has it all planned out. A few aunts and uncles, along with some cousins are coming. Maybe even some grandparents if they can make the drive. That’s a load of people altogether, not even including friends,” Cameron said in a long rush, barely containing his excitement. “And not even just them. My mom and Christine are supposed to come, too! I can’t wait to see them. I haven’t seen them in months. Hey, you should meet them—they’re very nice. Wicked fun, too.”

Elliot tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Well…sure,” he agreed. The thought of being surrounded by Cameron’s family, and possibly meeting his mother and sister, was beyond intimidating. He hadn’t forgotten how awkward it’d felt just around Cameron’s Dad and Cheryl—and that was before they’d become boyfriends. Back then he could’ve pretended he didn’t care what they thought, but that was different now. He’d had his experiences meeting the parents of past girlfriends, and he knew that the last thing he wanted was to be anything less than cordial with Cameron’s family.

Muffin pressed her face into Elliot’s leg and rubbed her whiskered cheek against him.

“Elliot? You still there?”

Elliot cleared his throat. “Yeah, just thinking.” More like mini-panicking, but Cameron didn’t need to know that bit. “You were saying?”

“Huh? Oh, right. I think the official time for the party is dinner time. Somewhere around five, I think. So just stop by around then—or earlier if you want…” Cameron’s voice trailed off. Elliot could practically hear the sheepish grin on the others face.

“Five sounds good.” Elliot went to the kitchen counter and grabbed a pen and paper. He quickly wrote down the time, then glanced over at the time on the microwave. It read fifteen past eight; the mall would be closing soon. He’d have to do the shopping tomorrow. “What do you want for your birthday?”

“I dunno. Surprise me?”

Elliot froze at the answer. The carefree and honest way Cameron answered the question only made it a frustrating one. Elliot had heard people say the same answer in direct contradiction of what they really meant, and that was annoying, too; but if Cameron didn’t know, then Elliot was truly fucked.

“Er…okay.” Why could he foresee a tediously long shopping trip in the nearby future? Damn. “I guess I’ll see you later?”

“Oh, right, right. I got to get going anyway. Dad wants me to help move some stuff around. See ya later.”

After they both hung up, Elliot let out a long sigh and tilted his head back to rest against the wall as he processed everything. It didn’t take long before his nerves were back at work. Fortunately, Elliot was pried from his thoughts when Muffin meowed.

“Silly kitty,” Elliot murmured. “No worries at all. Everything’s simple for you. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re spayed, I would probably envy you.”

Then, as if gloating, Muffin blinked up at him and meowed again.


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Despite an evening of considering what to get for Cameron’s birthday, Elliot still hadn’t gotten any closer towards any actual ideas by the next morning. The same ideas kept popping up in his head, all of them ones he’d rejected just moments before. He swiftly came to the conclusion that he was over-thinking things.

After a quick shower and a shave, Elliot got dressed for the day in a pair of comfortable jeans and a long-sleeved light blue shirt. It was mid-morning by the time Elliot had eaten a fairly hearty breakfast, and immediately after finishing, he cleaned his dishes. Once everything was in its rightful place, he went straight for the kitchen counter drawer that kept the white envelope.

At first, when his parents had begun drifting and neglecting their house responsibilities, Elliot would have to approach his parents about the bills to pay, groceries, and all of those lovely essentials. It had been a monthly hassle that neither him nor the parent he talked to liked to endure; and while Elliot would’ve loved to have paid for it himself, the part-time job he’d had at the time wouldn’t be able to pay everything off.

He didn’t know when exactly it first started, but one day when he’d woken up to discover his parents were gone (again) and a crisp, white envelope had been left on the counter. It was filled with more than enough to live on until they decided to return again. There was even enough for the necessities and then some—a university and luxury fund as Elliot saw it. After the often tense and awkward confrontations for money, Elliot couldn’t complain at how easily accessible it was now. It was as informal a transaction as anything else that occurred between him and his folks. He preferred it that way; he was certain of it.

Finding the envelope hidden underneath a pair of scissors, some old letters with yellow corners, and the slip of paper containing Cameron’s phone number, Elliot yanked it out and pulled out a few twenties. He slipped the money into his wallet and the envelope back into the drawer. Then, after a split-second thought, he pulled the paper with Cameron’s number on it out of the drawer before closing it. He slapped it onto the refrigerator with a sun-shaped magnet on his way out of the kitchen.

He’d decided the night before that his university applications and homework could wait a few hours. The sooner he got the shopping over and done with the better. A few locked doors, a double check of everything, a grab for his jacket in the hallway closet, and then Elliot was ready to go.


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What do I get him? Elliot wondered on the drive to the mall. He’d racked his brain for ideas while keeping his eye on the road and his speed. Okay, so what did he already knew? Cameron liked dressing up, that was a given, but what else? All of those things were on the outside. They were exterior interests that anyone could see. Elliot didn’t want to get Cameron something a person who’d known him for a day could get him. Considering the length of time he’d known the freckled boy, along with their current status, he should be able to do better than that.

The problem with that was that Elliot wasn’t sure he knew Cameron well enough to come up with something that meaningful or good enough.

By the time Elliot had reached the mall parking lot, he was still wrapped up within his now-tangled ideas and thoughts. His mental list was a scribbled mess. Elliot was about ready to rip his hair out. His grip on the steering wheel growing tighter as he grew more frustrated with the problem at hand. KISS, music, goofing off, acrobatics…what else does Cameron like? It was on the very tip of his tongue. He thought of the first time he’d hung out with Cameron and his group and at Cameron’s place.

Of course! Elliot nearly smacked himself in the head for having forgotten such an obvious clue. Cameron loves movies! It was a broad idea, but it was also a major one. Elliot still had no definite gift to buy just yet, but at least now he had a good direction. That was much better than nothing.

Elliot exited his vehicle, locked the door, and then strode into the mall. He repeated the word in his head repetitively as he walked down the mall, seeing endless rows of clothing and accessory stores and yet not really looking at them. Movies, movies, movies…he owns a video camera, too… With an idea like movies and video camera’s, there was really only one type of store that he knew he needed to go to; he headed straight for it.

Unlike a lot of the clothing and accessory stores—which were just swarming with people who were shopping and people who had nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon—the electronics store seemed much more organized. Other stores blared catchy pop tunes and featured comfortable layouts for both the people who shopped and those who hung around; the electronics store was much more relaxed in comparison. The TV screens blared visuals instead of sound, all perfectly in-sync with each other. There were shelves all along the walls and racks in the middle of the store of the latest technology out on the market. The store was just brimming with metal, gadgets, movies, computers, and video games. If there was a place to go for technology, then this would have to be it.

Taking a quick look around, Elliot wondered about his original problem: what should he get Cameron? There was a small section of the latest cinematic releases, but that seemed too cheap and easy. Not to mention he wasn’t sure what movies Cameron already had. The thought of asking one of the store clerks occurred to him, but Elliot shoved the idea into a corner. He could do this himself. He didn’t need anyone’s—

“Can I help you, sir?”

Elliot was yanked out of his thoughts. He turned his head, ready to decline the offer as politely as he could manage, but stopped. There was no mistaking who the store clerk was. Although her light brown hair was pulled into two braids and her side bangs were kept back with the aid of light blue clip, Elliot still recognized her in an instant. Not that the nametag wasn’t a dead give away or anything.

Further evidence of her identity lit up along with her expression as she recognized Elliot within the same moment. She cleared her throat and said in a wary voice, “Aren’t you…?”

“Yeah,” Elliot answered. “And you’re Cheryl.”

Cheryl nodded, pursing her lips as she looked around. A long, awkward pause stretched between them. Elliot took a quick look around and wondered if there were any other store clerks free; there weren’t.

Cheryl broke the silence and asked, “You’ve been standing here for a good while. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Elliot mentally debated over whether or not he needed her help, but considering that she was Cameron’s sister and she worked in the store, she probably had a better idea of what to do for a specific gift. Although he couldn't forget the way they’d behaved around each other when they’d first met. He highly doubted Cheryl would be that much friendlier since then.

With a consenting sigh, Elliot said, “Sure…”

“Okay. What’re you looking for?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t really know.” He shifted his weight onto the other foot. Cheryl remained silent. Elliot sighed again. “I’m shopping for your brother—the party tomorrow and whatnot.”

A faint surprise flashed in her eyes before it was stifled by forced professionalism. “Ah. I see.” The way she sounded made it sound like that explained it all, even if she had appeared confused by it just a moment ago. She crossed her arms, but there wasn’t anything indignant about her stance at all. In fact, it looked more cautious and uncomfortable than anything else. “Well…do you have anything in mind?”

Elliot bit the corner of his lip. “I know your brother’s fond of movies and that he has a video camera, but that’s all I really got.”

Cheryl simply nodded. “All right. Follow me.” She began to walk along and past the metal shelves with Elliot in tow. “Our movies are right over here,” Cheryl said, gesturing to the movie rack along one wall; then she gestured to a different section. “Our video cameras and accessories are over there.”

Elliot’s attention was instantly drawn to the latter; his mind already playing around with the idea of a gift associated with a video camera. Catching onto Elliot’s primary focus, Cheryl walked over to the stand filled with different brands of video cameras. “Getting any ideas?”

“Maybe.” Elliot walked over to her side, a cautious foot away from the auburn-haired girl, and looked over the different brand names and gadgets. He frowned upon realizing that he hadn’t a clue what Cameron already had, wanted, or didn’t want. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…

“Cameron’s current camcorder is this.” Cheryl pat her lightly freckled hand on a silver video camera that was still in its plastic package. “In terms of anything he already has, he has a stand and a compatible movie editing program for his computer, so I wouldn’t recommend those.”

Elliot’s frown deepened and he bit his lips. Yep, this was definitely a bad idea. He needed a plan B. Or a miracle. Either would do.

“But,” Cheryl started, and it snatched Elliot’s attention immediately, “if you’re stuck on this sort of gift, then I’d consider getting him a new carrying case if I were you.”

Elliot regarded her with a cautious skepticism; Cheryl returned the look in an unwavering fashion. The locked-stare didn’t last long before they both looked away from each other. “Why?” Elliot said, eyes glued to the rack of video camera’s in front of him. “Doesn’t it come with the video camera already?”

“It does, but Cameron can be pretty clumsy and careless with his things sometimes. Especially considering how he drags his camera everywhere with him, even if he doesn’t use it. His current carrying case has gotten a little too worn to be of any proper use.”

Elliot considered the information. “Makes sense. He seems like the type to trip over his own two feet every other day.”

To Elliot’s surprise, Cheryl stifled a chortle. “Yeah. Sounds like him. Too focused on what he’s doing to really notice how he’s doing it,” Cheryl murmured.

They fell into another pause. Although it was awkward like before, it was somehow more endurable. Elliot glanced at Cheryl and arched an eyebrow. “So this carrying case…it can be bought separately?”

“Naturally.” Cheryl rubbed her finger along her bottom lip in thought. “Cameron’s model isn’t all that old…about a year, I think. I don’t see it out here anywhere, but we probably have some in the back.” She stopped, her finger paused over her lip. She regarded him with a precautious glance out of the corner of her eye. “Sound good to you?”

Elliot considered it for a moment then nodded his head. “Yeah.” The very thought of Cameron’s video camera brought back the old memory of how Cameron fawned over it and worried about dropping and breaking it. Even if this wasn’t as sentimental as he would’ve liked, buying Cameron a new carrying case would at least be a lot better than buying a couple of DVD’s.

Cheryl nodded and murmured a, “Be right back,” then started for the storage room at the back of the store. Elliot turned and watched her disappear into the storeroom, then went back to looking at the video cameras and odd accessories, wondering just what exactly a passionate and inspired person could do with all of it.

With Cheryl no longer around, Elliot began to relax. This isn’t so bad, he thought. He had a gift for Cameron now—better than nothing. Although he had to admit that he hadn’t expected to see Cheryl working there…she hadn’t exactly been all that warm and welcoming the last time he’d seen her. Although this encounter wasn’t all that different, it was nowhere near as bad as it could’ve been.

But that was just one sister, Elliot quickly reminded himself. Come Saturday evening, he would be meeting even more of Cameron’s family. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so relaxed anymore. Personally, he hadn’t told anyone about him and Cameron being an official item yet—he wasn’t sure if he wanted to, or if Cameron had yet either—but what if Cameron’s family took one look at him and just automatically knew about what they were—what he was?

A dull pain throbbed in his lower lip; Elliot realized he was biting his lip a little too hard. He stopped, though he was still bothered by the same worries that had led him to biting his lip that harshly in the first place.

He couldn’t let himself give into every little panicked thought. He’d wondered and worried about it for the last week, but had anything actually happened to help fan those furiously nervous flames? Nothing had happened. No one had given him any disgusted looks, and no one had asked. That only meant that Cameron hadn’t told anyone yet, either. The very proof of that was the way Cheryl had reacted to him when he’d entered the store: she hadn’t glared at him that moment she saw him and demanded to know why he was now dating her brother. That meant she didn’t know, which meant that it was still probably in the dark, stuffed and hidden within some closet of their lives. He could relax about that; even if that small relief was accompanied by murmuring doubts.

Cheryl returned a few minutes later with a plastic and cardboard package in her hand: the carrying case. She handed it to Elliot and he accepted it with a mumbled thanks.

“No problem,” she answered, a tad awkward from the gratitude. “Just doing my job.”

“In any case, I appreciate the help.” He turned to go pay for the item, then stopped. He looked over his shoulder just as Cheryl was about to meander off to tend to other work-related duties. He called out, “I know this will probably sound a little weird and pointless, but since it’s also your birthday party…is there anything you want?”

Cheryl paused, definitely caught off guard by the question. She turned and looked at him with a shake her head. “Don’t bother. You barely know me.” She looked to the front of the store where another customer had entered, a young man with a little boy hanging off his leg. She continued on without looking at him. “Just take that over to the check-out, and you’ll be good to go. Bye.” She went to greet the new customer, the conversation over and done with in a matter of a heartbeat.

Elliot arched an eyebrow again, wondering how exactly a girl like that had a brother like Cameron. He wondered just how much of a difference there was between Cheryl and Cameron’s other sister. Cameron and Cheryl were fairly different from each other…was there a greater difference between the two sisters, or was it less? With an exasperated sigh, Elliot took the item to the checkout. He couldn’t think about that anymore; his head would burst.

With no one in front of him, he handed it straight to the guy behind the register, who fumbled with it a bit as he tried to ring it up. There were a couple of dings, an exchange of money, and the scratchy sound of the receipt sliding out of the cash register, and Elliot was on his way.

On his way through the mall he considered stopping somewhere in the mall to pick up wrapping paper and all that gift-wrapping delight, but he remembered that he had plenty of that back at his house. With nothing else he’d meant to originally get, he considered just going straight home. Yet, as he drew nearer and nearer to the doors he’d entered, he couldn’t. He kept glancing at the plastic bag in his hand, remembering how helpful Cheryl had been with finding a gift and getting it to him…

Elliot stopped dead in his tracks. He threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck,” he groaned. And then he was backtracking to a Hallmark store he’d passed not too long ago. Why did his conscience pick the weirdest times to be nice to people he barely knew?

At any rate, he had to do something. It didn’t feel right to go to all of that trouble for just Cameron and not Cheryl. So what if he barely knew her? Okay, fine. That went both ways. She’d helped him out, and there was no way he was going to owe anyone any simple favors.

The only problem here was in picking a damn card. There had to be a card for everything; half of it Elliot was sure he’d never ever need a card for. Happy birthday’s and promotions, congratulations for any number of things…They were divided up into events, then ages, and then the two sexes. Were people really that in need of a specific card for everything?

Finally grabbing a card—three, when he remembered that he should get Cameron and the other sister one—he paid for them and then finally left the mall. After getting back into his car, closing the door and with the engine humming in the background along with the soft tunes from the radio, Elliot slouched in his seat and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I need a vacation.”


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The shopping for a birthday gift been difficult, but wrapping them up was a whole other matter entirely. Elliot sat on the floor, ready to just cram the difficult wrapping paper into a paper shredder. He wished he’d thought ahead, reconsidered, and bought a colourful bag during the afternoon shopping trip.

“You have to cut out enough wrapping paper so that it can cover the gift and also be shaped and taped over it.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Elliot grumbled. He shifted his shoulder again to keep the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder as he struggled with the wrapping paper and tape. He heard The President sigh at his grumblings, the slight static from the phone complementing the tired sound. “What? This thing is in a weird shape!” Elliot, as if that explained all his hardships with the gift. “Not exactly easy, you know.”

“That’s because you’re trying to do it the way you would with a box-shape. Since it’s ‘weirdly’ shaped, you have to make a few adjustments. It will look a little crinkly, but that’s really the best you can do,” The President explained on the other end.

Elliot glared down at the wrapping paper. “But I don’t want it to look crinkly.”

“Silly Elliot. You can’t always have what you want.” A few murmurs of a new voice cut in; one that Elliot could distinguish as The President’s father. “I’d better get going now—things to do,” The President said, sounding too tired for playful bantering. “Good luck with your epic struggle with the wrapping paper.”

“Yeah. Bye.” After the other end’s sharp click to end the call, Elliot took the phone away from his neck and pressed the “end call” button. He cringed at the minor stiffness from having kept his head tilted for so long, then continued to frown down at the semi-wrapped gift. Why did Cameron’s gift have to be the hardest to wrap? He’d stuck a couple of twenties into a card and wrote a simple “Happy Birthday” for Cheryl’s, and then done the same for the sister he’d yet to meet. Of course, he’d gone back to Cheryl’s and wrote a “thank you” right underneath the “happy birthday”. But that’d been simple enough. It was only Cameron’s gift that was insistent on being difficult.

“Back to work,” he muttered to himself. As if he would just give up. One way or another, this gift was going to be wrapped up nice and neat.

Muffin, who had previously sat on Elliot’s lap, leaned forward to sniff at the gift. She began to rub her whiskered cheek against it, her eyes closing pleasantly at the motion. Elliot shoved her gently away from the gift so that he could reattempt to wrap the gift—for the twentieth time that evening. Damn wrapping paper.


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After quite a bit of struggle, Elliot got Cameron’s gift prepared and then retired for the night. The next day came much too soon for it to feel real. It’d been as if the night had come and gone in a single blink of an eye, but it was morning, bright sunshine and all, and before Elliot knew it, he was already going through his morning ritual again.

The gifts were on the kitchen table, right where he’d left them the night before. All throughout the rest of the morning, he’d habitually glance over at the gifts every time he passed by or went through the kitchen. The party would instantly enter his mind and stay for long periods of time. But the party wasn’t until dinnertime. He still had half a day to use up. With that thought in mind, Elliot remembered the brochures and pamphlets for universities that he still had to read through…and then there was math homework…not to mention a lengthy essay for English.

Well, better now than later. At least it would give him something to do. Elliot went up to his room to retrieve his homework for something to do to take up the rest of the day. Not that it really worked. He tried with all his might to concentrate. Although the house was completely silent except for the occasional vibrating purrs that emitted from Muffin as she sat on his feet, it was still hard to concentrate slowly on the work at hand. He’d be in the middle of a math equation, going over the structured formulas in his head when he’d remember the gifts on the table… Then it’d all go downhill from there. A few minutes were wasted every so often just remembering and thinking about the upcoming party. As he worked through the homework, time ticking by just as meticulously, that excitement soon began to twist into an uncomfortable anxiety—the same that had writhed in his stomach and thoughts the day before. Which was silly and he knew it. What was there to worry about? Besides meeting Cameron’s family, his mother and his other sister…

But it really was silly. He’d met Cheryl and Cameron’s father, and he hadn’t been this nervous. The only significant difference between then and now that jumped out at him was the only thing that’d changed: Cameron and their status together.

But that had to be it, right? They weren’t just two teenagers hanging out and fooling around on the side anymore. This was legitimate; this was something more meaningful, even if it was in its early, fragile stages.

Elliot wanted to smack himself in the forehead for having fallen into the same old trap of “meeting the significant other’s parents”. Everything would be fine. He’d just act naturally—or as naturally as possible—and it’d all go from there. Elliot turned his attention back to the math problem at hand and got back to work, grateful for the slight escape the math equations had to offer. Unlike everything else, math was structured. There were rules for everything, and he knew what they all meant and how they all worked together. There was no guessing, no variables that he couldn’t figure out with the help of prearranged rules. Math was something he could understand without unnecessary doubts.

Elliot worked through the rest of his homework, temporarily forgetting the anticipation for that upcoming evening as he lost himself in the work. Before he knew it, the work was all done, and time had slipped past him once again in a blink of an eye. Elliot set aside his binder and textbooks and glanced at the time on the VCR by the TV. His gut lurched when he realized that he had to get ready to go.

Leaving his binder and textbooks on the couch, Elliot got up abruptly from the couch. Muffin fell onto the floor and hissed as she was forced from her comfy spot on his feet. Elliot ignored her and went to go gather his things. He returned a moment later with his car keys and a bag carrying the gifts in it. Muffin watched Elliot force his shoes on his feet.

“Later Muffin. Watch the house,” Elliot huffed, gathering his breath and composure as he exited through the front door, locking it behind him.

Though he’d only been to Cameron’s house once before, Elliot could still remember the way there and which house it was. He drove down the familiar streets, stopping only once to let a pedestrian hurry across the road. His hands began to sweat a little, which provoked him into clutching the steering wheel more harshly, determined to ignore any unease that tossed and turned inside. Elliot drove the rest of the way with the radio turned down low enough for it to barely be a whisper. He breathed in long, slow breaths, each one as carefully measured as the last as he drew nearer and nearer to Cameron’s house.

After he’d finally reached Cameron’s street he was taken aback by the line of cars parked along the side of the road—the same side as Cameron’s house. Not that it should have been surprising. He’d been worrying about meeting Cameron’s family because there was going to be family. Of course there were going to be cars parked; the driveway couldn’t possibly fit them all.

He just hadn’t thought that there’d be that many cars…

“Get a grip. You can do this,” he muttered to himself. He took another measured breath as he parked his car. He stayed in his seat after the engine died, fingers rapping against the leather steering wheel. He glanced at the seat beside him—the gifts were still there. No worries. Had he remembered to lock the house? He’d fed Muffin, right? He didn’t leave the oven on—

Elliot groaned. “Oh, for Gods sakes!” He could stand up to assholes, but he was still nervous over a few aunts and uncles and maybe some rowdy cousins? Bullshit—he wasn’t going to let this stop him. Getting out of his car with the bag of gifts in hand, Elliot slammed the door shut and marched his way past the cars shining in the sunlight. There was no way he was going to let himself get worked up over this.

He walked up the pathway to the front door, his gaze meeting a few colourful balloons that’d been tied to the sheltered light by the door.

Well, this was it.

Elliot went to knock on the door.

The door burst open and a stream of kids no older than at least six flooded past Elliot, startling him enough to make him jump out of his skin. His eyes were wide as he watched them race around the front lawn. Elliot blamed his pounding heart on the spontaneity of that, regardless of the fact that he was already anxious. How the hell was he supposed to expect that?

Wait—Cameron’s family. Maybe that was self-explanatory.

“Kids, don’t leave the door open,” a low, rumbling voice said from behind. Elliot turned around and faced the same man he’d met the first time he’d visited Cameron’s home. Cameron’s tall and composed father stood at the door, eyes fixed on the rowdy kids playing on the front lawn. “Kids? Close the door next time; you’ll let all of the heat—Oh.” He stopped when he noticed Elliot standing there. Elliot stared up into the older man’s dark eyes, his expression determined while his gut twisting up inside.

“Hello,” Cameron’s father said, his entire demeanor relaxed and welcoming. It wasn’t hard to see where Cameron got his easy-going side from. Cameron’s Dad stepped to the side and gestured for Elliot to enter. “You’re Cameron’s friend, right?” the older man said as Elliot entered the house, faintly catching sounds of chatter and conversation from the rooms up ahead.

“Yeah…” A friend, certainly. Elliot gauged the older man’s expression and behavior. It looked like he was in the clear. “Friend” had been all the man had meant. The realization should’ve helped eased his nerves, but it didn’t. Elliot bit the corner of his lip as he tried to ignore the nagging feeling that he was keeping something secret from someone who would eventually have a right to know.

Cameron’s Dad stayed by the open door, keeping one eye on the kids on the front lawn and the other on Elliot as he took his shoes off. “They’re all in the basement—just go on ahead. I’ll call you guys up when dinner’s ready.”

Elliot nodded his acknowledgement, unable to find his voice. They’re. That meant everyone, didn’t it? Cameron, his friends, his family…

Elliot straightened himself up and nodded his acknowledgement. However, that didn’t feel like enough, so he said in a stiff voice, “Yes sir.” He inwardly cringed at how awkward he’d sounded. Cameron’s Dad didn’t seem to mind though as he smiled down at him. Elliot muttered a humiliated good-bye then made his way to the door that led to basement, passing by the living room and kitchen that were filled with strange and intimidating faces and voices. He walked by without daring to glance in.

The light was dim, even from the top of the stairwell, but it got a little brighter as Elliot made his way down the stairs. He crept down the wooden stairs, careful to keep it from creaking and exposing his attendance. He could already hear Cameron’s voice among a few as everyone talked in loud and excited voices. As Elliot reached the bottom he noticed that there didn’t seem to be as many people as he’d previously thought. Cameron, Cheryl, and their friends sat down on and around the simple couch. The TV in the background was on as well as one of the older video game consoles, with Cheryl and Morty attached to two of the black controllers. A racing game flashed images of speeding pixilated cars across the screen. Elliot paused at the very base of the stairs and took it all in, not ready to make his presence known just yet.

“Stop cutting me off!” Morty whined as his car spun around in cartoonish circles and collided into a wall. A scowl accented his sharp expression. Beside him, Cheryl smirked. “Not fair; you’re cheating.”

“Not my fault that you’re horrible at racing games,” Cheryl said smugly. “And it’s not cheating—it’s called skill.”

“Oh, as if,” Morty retorted, grinning from ear to ear.

Elliot tuned out their playful banter and looked around the room, gaze darting every which way. A few girls Elliot didn’t recognize sat on the couch with straight backs and bored expressions—none of them looked like the other sister Elliot had yet to meet. They wore awfully bright colours, too. Although the colours were different from the others, they wore the same sort of outfits: thigh-length skirts, tank-top’s with a skin-tight hoody, and their long hair was pulled back into some unorthodox style that was currently trendy.

Fortunately, everyone else looked a little more sensibly dressed for the time of year that it was. Elena was curled up at the very end of the couch, dressed in a cozy pair of jeans that hugged her curvy legs and a simple dark blue hoody. She watched Cheryl and Morty’s bantering and gaming with the same interested look she had when she was reading. Alison sat on the floor by Elena’s feet, looking much sharper than usual with hard black and white contrasting clothes. She sat there talking to Cameron in a raised voice, who sat across from her, arguing something back with a wicked grin. Elliot had only really seen him dressed outside of a school uniform three times, and it was of no surprise that he was dressed up in some way: a pair of semi-tight black and red plaid jeans and a KISS t-shirt.

“Most of it is probably staged, Cameron,” Alison said in rebuttal to something Cameron had said. “You can’t actually levitate yourself into the air—there’s got to be some scientific trick to it.”

“Oh c’mon! You were there, you saw it with me. He did it all by himself!”

"Yeah. On TV." Alison shook her head. “You're far too trusting sometimes.”

Cameron mumbled something incoherent before turning his head with a slight pout. His expression lit up instantaneously when he spotted Elliot. “Hey, you came! What’re you standing over there for?” He patted the spot beside him with a sheepish, but excited, grin. His eyes didn’t leave Elliot’s. “C’mon, sit down.”

Elliot shifted his weight onto the other foot when a few of the people in the room glanced over at him. A few quickly returned to what they had been doing, although a few had some lingering once-overs. Elliot heaved a sigh and walked over to Cameron, taking a seat near the boy on the floor. Remembering the bag in his hand, he handed it to Cameron, who looked into it with childlike eagerness.

“For me? You shouldn’t have. I feel so spoiled,” Cameron said with glee. There wasn’t a doubt in Elliot’s mind that the other boy was enjoying all of the extra attention. “Gifts, 'happy birthday'’s, a party...”

“Don’t forget your birthday pinches,” Alison remarked, quickly leaning over to pinch Cameron’s cheek. He dodged her fingers with wide, startled eyes.

“N-No thanks,” he said with a faint laugh, waving Alison’s hand away. “I’ve had quite enough of those for one day. You should’ve seen how Cheryl woke me up this morning. I swear, my cheeks still hurt,” he said, rubbing his face. Yet he was still grinning, as if that minor pain weren’t there.

Elliot looked around the room some more, his shoulders stiff as he rested some of his weight on his hands. The carpet felt rough and cozy underneath his hands. “Everyone is here?"

“Nope. There'll be more later,” said Cameron, pulling out the two cards Elliot had prepared. He tossed Cheryl’s over to her. It tapped her back before falling to the floor. She glanced over and away from her game to see what the commotion was. Her eyes met Elliot’s then quickly latched onto Cameron. The freckled boy set the other two gifts in a steadily growing pile by the couch. “Maxi’s coming by later,” Cameron continued to explain, “and Christine and Mom aren’t here yet—but they’ll be here any time now.”

Elliot nodded once again in a single stiff movement; his breathing felt a little too measured and controlled for comfort. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Cheryl tensing at Cameron’s last words, a slight frown crossing her soft features. She turned back to the game but didn’t respond to the next batch of banter Morty said. Well, if that wasn’t encouraging…

“I’m bored,” one of the girls on the couch said with a light huff. “What’re we going to do?”

“You said that five minutes ago,” Cheryl answered over her shoulder, “and when I offered suggestions, you said you didn’t like any of them.”

“We’re not all that into video games,” one of the other girls answered for the other, although her voice nowhere near as bold and resilient sounding as the first girl. She shook her brunette hair out of her eyes and glanced around, looking to see if anyone else had any suggestions.

“Well…we could always play Twister,” Cameron cut in. “I found it while I was cleaning this morning; it’s just upstairs.” One of the girls made a face at the suggestion, but the other two looked at Cameron with sincere interest.

“Sounds good,” one said with a tiny giggle.

“Yeah, same here,” the other chimed in.

“Okay then,” Cameron said, pleased that they’d taken up the offer but obviously unaware of why they were giggling about it. Elliot resisted the urge to roll his eyes and slap his hand to his forehead. Alison and Elena look like they were resisting the same temptation.

“I’ll go get the board,” Cameron said while getting up. He dashed for the stairs, calling over his shoulder, “Be right back!”

Elliot sat still and silent, watching the two girls whisper something to each other before turning to the other and letting her in on the hushed conversation. As that went on, Elena stiffened in her seat, casting uncertain looks at the trio of girls every now and then. Alison stared up at the ceiling with a blatantly annoyed frown. The only sounds were of hushed giggles and words contrasted with the harsher, edgier sounds of screeching wheels and video game music in the background. Elliot continued to bit his lip, every cell in his body too aware of the awkward tension sitting amongst them in the room.

“Got it!” Cameron shouted as he stampeded down the stairs, holding in one hand the large white box that was covered with an image of smiling kids and colourful dots. He opened it up and yanked the plastic sheet out as he approached them. “Who’s playing?”

The three girls, even the one who had frowned at the idea, answered with a "yes" immediately. Alison mumbled something that sounded like a negative confirmation.

Cameron unraveled the folded up sheet and went to a spacious spot on the floor to cover the mat with. He looked up and over at Elliot with large, hopeful eyes. “You playing?”

His insides twisted at the idea—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d humiliated himself by playing such a stupid game—but when he looked into those hopeful eyes, his resolve began to erode. “Maybe,” Elliot said.

Cameron flattened the mat across the floor as neatly as possible, then retrieved the colourful spinner. He glanced in Elena’s direction. “Elena, are ya playing?”

Elena shook her head. "Don't feel like it," she said in a quiet voice.

“Aww, really? Okay." He held out the colourful spinner in her direction. "Can ya do this part for us, then?”

Elena looked at the spinner, then sighed and nodded. She got up from her spot on the couch to accept the spinner and a different spot on the floor in front of the mat. She flicked at it with her finger with a contemplative expression on her face.

The three girls from the couch got up and approached the mat, standing in a huddled trio with crossed arms and observant expressions. Cameron asked Cheryl and Morty if they were going to join in. He received only twin answers of “Later” instead. Then Cameron shifted his attention to Elliot, along with Elena and the three girls.

Elliot took another measured breath, expectations and pressure prickling his nerves as he got up to join the group. He crossed his arms, attempting not to overthink the game or worry about anything undesirable that could happen. Regardless about how he felt about it, he had to do it. If not to prove that he could do it, then to please Cameron by participating within the simple game. It seemed to, if the smile on Cameron’s lips was of any consolation.

“Okay,” Cameron said to Elena, beaming. “We’re ready.”

Elena nodded. She flicked the large red arrow with her index finger with a sharp tick sound. The arrow spun before gradually slowing to a stop. She looked up at the girl closest to her. “Right foot, yellow,” she said softly.

The girl glanced at Elena and then made a face at the mat. With a slight hiss as she exhaled, she stepped onto the mat and put her right foot onto a yellow circle. Elena flicked the red arrow again in the same unruffled way; it landed on left, red. The next girl, with a little less attitude than the first, got onto the mat. A few flicks of the arrow later, and the last girl as well as Cameron were on the mat. Elliot stood by Elena, his hands gripping his arms on and off as Elena finally flicked the red arrow for his turn.

Elena looked up at Elliot. “Right foot, blue.”

Boldly going where no man has gone before, he thought sarcastically. Elliot looked around the mat. Spotting the best blue circle to begin, he walked around the mat and put his left foot on it. His first step into the game—and now for the rest of the nightmare.


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


There were three excruciating facts about Twister that Elliot learned the hard way in his youth: It's one of those games that got ridiculously hard by at least the third round; it's the sort of game to put people into mortifying positions and arrangements; and it's one of those games that physically hurt.

Everyone squealed with giggles and bantering by the fourth round. Every player was stretched out all over the mat, over and under each other in a supporting knot of limbs. Elliot half-crouched over the mat in his current position, having been lucky enough to only get called on for his feet and one hand.

“Next move,” Cameron said, his voice strained. His arms and leg shook slightly from the all the exertion it took to keep himself up. He was stuck in a sort of frozen-crab walk, his back arched and his head flung back.

Elena flicked the arrow, then looked towards up at the girl closest to her. “Right foot, green.”

The girl groaned. Green was far away from her, and with the way everyone was positioned, it was near-impossible to reach. She attempted anyway, lifting up her right foot to reach for the row of green circles. In a split-second she slipped and fell onto the mat, nearly taking another girl down with her before said girl regained her balance.

“Out,” Elena said in the same soft voice. The girl that fell scowled, muttered something about the game being stupid anyway, then got up and trotted over to the couch in defeat.

Elena flicked the arrow again. She looked at Cameron. “Right hand, red.”

Cameron lifted his head as high as he could to look through the cracks between overlapping bodies. He twisted as much to the side as possible and aimed his right hand to the closet red circle. He found his latest position and struggled to keep it.

Another flick of the red arrow. Elliot looked at Elena just as she looked up at him. “Right hand, red again.”

Elliot looked along the red row. There were two spots left, and none of them looked all that easy to reach—not with so many people in the way. Inhaling deeply, Elliot stretched his right hand out to rest on the closest red circle. His arm was now wedged between behind one of the girl’s knee’s and Cameron’s leg; he fought to keep himself up without leaning on anyone. His aching muscles shook underneath his weight, threatening to give out of this game lasted too much longer; but even with the reality of being trapped between other human bodies, the idea of losing remained unacceptable.

Another round of the spinning red arrow passed. The positions of their bodies shifted, taking new poses and struggling under harsher challenges as the game went on. Another of the girls soon slipped and fell onto the mat from sheer exhaustion.

Two down. Two more to go. Elliot teetered and shifted his weight between each hand. They were beginning to go numb, now shifting into the early prickly-stages. He glanced over at Cameron, twisted into a much more comfortable position beside him and now facing the floor rather than the ceiling.

Cameron glanced at Elliot and offered him a supporting grin. “Almost there,” he said, his breathing heavy. His gaze didn’t seem to stay in one spot very long. They flittered all about, though Elliot didn’t know what Cameron was really looking at. Cameron’s gaze returned to his. “How’re you doing? Arms feel like they’re going to fall off yet?”

Elliot’s light brown eyes glanced along Cameron’s arched body, over the gentle and slight curves of his hips and legs. He gulped and forced himself to look away when his eyes traveled to less family-friendly areas. “N-Not bad.” He only stuttered because of his exhaustion. Really.

Just as Elena had spun the red arrow again, the basement stairs began to creak loudly under thunderous steps. Elliot glanced up from the mat, torn out of the game as well as everyone else as a familiar dark-skinned boy raced down the stairs, out of breath and smirking like a little boy full of mischief and secrets.

“Why hello there,” Maxi said at the base of the stairs. He still had on a thick, plaid jacket and his red converse shoes. His hair, while usually a tangled mess, seemed even messier, and his cheeks were flushed a light red. He looked as if he’d taken a long walk out somewhere windy. Maxi took one look at the Twister mat, his smirk widening. “Aww. I knew I should’ve come sooner. You started the fun without me, Cam-cam?”

“Hi, and sorry,” Cameron answered, forcing the words out now as the remaining girl slithered a hand over him and onto a circle by his left hand. “Want to join in?”

“No fair, he can’t join in now. Not this far into the game,” the last girl on the mat insisted.

“That’s all right. I’ll just wait for the next game,” Maxi replied in a careless tone. He approached the mat with a predatory stride, taking everything in with a thorough once-over. His eyes stopped at the girl, running over her exposed and trembling legs. “Will you be playing?”

The girl took one look at Maxi and made a face. “Are you kidding? My arms are killing me.”

Maxi’s smirk twisted into a sneer. “Fine.” He walked around the mat towards Elena, stopping to shot the girl a cold look over his shoulder. “Oh, and by the way—I can see up your skirt. Very nice view.”

The girl yelped, scowling at Maxi while she did her best to press her thighs together without compromising her spot in the game. Her glare intensified as Maxi snickered and went over to Elena to take a seat. Elliot rolled his eyes. Typical.

Elena went on with the game, ignoring Maxi’s odd comments here and there as the game went on. Everyone’s positions were reversed again. Elliot wasn’t sure how exactly it happened, but after a few moves on both his and Cameron’s part, he’d somehow ended up half underneath Cameron’s lithe body; half turned, his back just an inch away from Cameron’s chest. Elliot was too aware of the presence of the other boy behind him. He could hear Cameron heavy breathing near his ear and sense Cameron’s body move to accommodate his heaving lungs. Elliot swallowed a dry lump in his throat and told his hormones to get a grip. Now he wanted his next move—anything to help distract him from their current positions.

The familiar sharp tap before the red arrow landed caught his attention once again. Elliot shot his gaze back to Elena, both his body and mind on high alert for his next move.

“Left hand, yellow.”


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


To Be Continued