+Made For You 23 - BL+

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Warning: Contains Boys Love and vulgar language.

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Chapter 23: Details, baby, details


Elliot couldn’t get it out of his head. He couldn’t forget the image of Cameron smiling weakly, his tone of voice when he’d admitted to having a quarrel with his friends—over Cameron’s relationship with him.

Monday came strolling around the corner, yet everything remained too fresh and new in his head, like a sharp cut that refused to begin the healing process, and every move reopened it with a deep sting.

Everything weighed heavily in his mind all throughout that Monday morning. The new semester begun in its usual way: finding his new classes, hearing the same-old speech over how they would receive their final grades in the mail. The familiar routine of transition.

Normally Elliot would’ve been focused on adjusting and getting a good start in his new classes. However, none of that seemed as important as everything that had happened, what Cameron had told him.

His actions had caused unnecessary trouble for Cameron. No matter how many times rephrased it in his head, the reality of it still made his jaw clench. And to think that, just moments before that confession had been made he’d been floating with some heavenly current, too content to care that he was drifting away. They’d taken an irreversible step, one that he’d been too happy that had happened at all. It had felt good and right, like he’d hoped it would.

Funny how things worked. One moment he drifted on an endless wave, the next he was thrown back ashore, cold and coughing and grasping at a situation he wished didn’t exist.

Elliot couldn’t deny the guilt he’d felt over the fact that he’d caused someone who made him happy so much needless grief over things that he, if he could, would go back and change.

But that would not last forever. He only had to wait three classes before he would correct everything.


~+~


Three periods passed, and when the bell rang to commence the lunch hour, Elliot grabbed his things and headed for the hallway Cameron’s friends used to spend the lunch hour. It took little time getting there; people stepped out of his hurried and purposeful stride, not wanting to get run over by someone who had no time or patience for those who stood in his way.

Only Elena sat against the wall at the hallway, munching on an apple and reading yet another novel: a hardcover, glossy and new. Cameron had not arrived yet.

Elliot dropped his bag on the other side of Elena, and said without missing a beat, “Where's Maximus?”

Elena looked up, unfazed that he had used Maxi’s proper name. “Probably out smoking. Try the student parking lot.”

Elliot nodded, thanking her before turning to go. A small “wait” caught his ear. He turned back to at her, unsure of what to expect.

“Please don’t go over the top,” Elena said, in no way demanding or pleading. Just a simple request. “He can be an idiot, but he’s my friend.”

That had to be the most he’d ever heard her speak at once, at least to him. Despite the soft-spoken opposition, Elliot found himself simply accepting her natural loyalty, unwilling to challenge or question it.

“I wasn't planning to,” he said, noticing her relax at the admission. He then turned and continued on his way. He’d say what he need to; nothing more.

Exiting through the front entrance of the school, Elliot began treading across the paved pathway to the crowd of cars, where a cluster of students gathered in the exact middle of the parking lot. The sun, glaring down from a sharp blue sky, glinted off the tops of the car and made the banks of snow sparkle, forcing Elliot to squint. The grey smoke trailing from the tips of many cigarettes rolled upwards towards the sky in a light fog, the still air leaving it undisturbed. The closer Elliot got to the parking lot, the louder the chatter became, as well as that of the mixed genres of music coming from a few of the cars. Bouncy mainstream pop and underground metal met in strange, harmonious tempo.

Elliot walked straight into the cluster, undiscouraged by the off-handed glances that followed him as closely as his own shadow. A smoker near him spat on the ground.

Without trouble, Elliot spotted Maxi sitting on the trunk of a navy blue car that blared heavy bass and screeching guitar riffs. Maxi’s fingers, pinched around a smoldering cigarette, increased in pressure when his narrowing eyes met Elliot’s.

The smokers around him returned to their normal conversations, though Elliot couldn’t shake off the feeling that they were still half-listening. But that did not matter. He approached the car Maxi sat hunched on.

“We need to talk.”

Maxi sneered. “Fuck you.”

“We need to talk. Now.”

“Fuck. You.”

Elliot resisted the urge to grab Maxi and haul him off his metal throne. The last time he had done that, years ago, Maxi had twisted around and punched him, shoving what had been a dying friendship straight into its grave. Elliot couldn’t care less if Maxi did resort to that old answer, but he was there on behalf of Cameron, and he wanted nothing, including his own actions, to get in the way of correcting what should have ended long ago.

The front doors of the car Maxi sat on swung open. A young man, indistinguishable from the other smokers huddled behind Elliot, stepped outside with Alison, whom was already opening a metal case full of cigarettes. She glanced up and paused mid-action, stared at Elliot, then Maxi.

“What’s he doing here?” she asked.

Not once taking his eyes off Elliot, Maxi said, “Hell if I know.”

Go ahead, speak as if I’m not here. “I need to speak with Maximus,” Elliot explained, reminding himself to sound neutral, calm, and in no way patronizing.

“You, mister high and mighty, came all the way out here to pay us a visit? Huh. Who’d have thought.” Alison closed the metal case in her hand, evidently changing her mind. “Fair enough,” she said, a faint crease appearing between her eyebrows.

Maxi shot her look that Elliot recognized too well. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said. “Just get it over with, okay? I’m sick of this bullshit.”

Looking like he’d just been slapped in the face, Maxi jumped to his feet and stood up on the car, to which the presumed owner began shouting complaints over possible dirt and skid marks. Maxi turned his glower on the owner and snapped at him to calm down, then turned back to Alison. “Since when? You agreed with me!”

“Yeah, I did. I still do. But,” Alison gestured to the three of them, “I don’t agree with this. I don’t want to keep on avoiding my own friends because of the same drama, over and over again. And I know you’re not happy with this crap either, so don’t give me that kicked-puppy face.”

Maxi hopped off the car and landed on the pavement with a loud thud; a large, childish stomp. Without warning he stormed off in a random direction, icy gravel crunching under his feet like an accent to a point Maxi couldn’t emphasize enough vocally. Elliot didn’t linger behind; he gave chase, brushing past Alison, who didn’t follow.

He caught up with Maxi a good yard away from the parking lot, just along the road that wound around the school into the back into the lane used for staff and delivery. Before Elliot could initiate anything, Maxi spun on his heels and faced him with a smoldering glower.

“What?” he demanded. “What the fuck do you want? Did you come all the way out here to call me an asshole, give me a good kick in the ass and justify it?” Maxi’s eyes narrowed. His words became clipped and precise. “Or did you come here to call me the worst friend in the world?”

“You are the worst friend in the world,” Elliot retorted.

“At least I don’t date my friend’s enemy,” Maxi spat. “Especially when it’s someone like you.”

“At least I don’t ditch my friends when they need me the most.” Bitter memories of older days came flooding back: the repeated instances of when he would search for Maxi, needing someone as fearless and fierce and strong-willed as him when his world was crumbling apart at the edges. But he always found Maxi with his new friends—a group Elliot had figured out early on would never accept him.

“Yeah, right,” Maxi growled. He stepped forward, invading Elliot's personal space. He jabbed a finger into Elliot's chest, each one punctuating his next words; Elliot glared back in return, refusing to let the action provoke a similar, if not harsher, reaction out of him. “I’m a horrible friend for having opinions and a life. I’m not the one who’d always snap at people and start yelling at them for just saying ‘hi.’”

Yet you’d always snap back. He kept the final thought to himself, unable to vocalize it. Not even a minute into the conversation and it was happening all over again. They’d slipped back into an age-old behavior: blaming. Yet despite this, even Maxi’s words held a truth to them. He did snap at Maxi long ago, when he’d been too resentful and hurt that the person he’d called best friend hadn’t been there to help when his parent’s arguments escalated to frightening extremities. Maxi hadn’t been there, like he used to be, all because of random people he’d met, people he barely knew yet were deemed more important than their long-lasting friendship. How could he not be hurt and angry?

But even with twenty-twenty hindsight, those revelations wouldn’t change anything he had done. He couldn’t change how cruel he’d been when he’d reacted, and he couldn’t change how those losses had changed him.

However, he could change how he dealt with it right then and there. And he would.

Inhaling and putting himself back on track, he said, “I came here to call a truce.”

Maxi’s eyebrows rose up into his hair, the corner of his pierced lips twitching into a sneer. “You’re shitting me.”

“No.”

Maxi shook his head. “A truce? What is this, war? You think that you can just go and—”

“This isn’t about me, and this isn’t about you. This is about Cameron.”

Maxi’s lips pursed shut, a tight line with glinting metal, but he said nothing.

“What we’re doing right now—all of this passive aggressive fighting—it bothers him. It’s juvenile and pathetic, and it needs to end here.” Maxi remained silent; Elliot continued. “Maybe you really are angry at Cameron, I don’t know, but the anger you have at me that you’re directing at him needs to stop. I won’t have Cameron pay for my own mistakes.”

Still as a statue, Maxi swallowed and said in a strained voice, “You’re serious.”

“Very.”

Maxi narrowed his eyes at the pavement beneath their feet, his lips still compressed into a tight line. With a sudden kick of his leg he sent a stray rock in a rattling scurry across the parking lot.

“I don’t care what you think of me or what you say behind my back,” Elliot clarified. “Just don’t do it around Cameron. Leave him out of it.”

“Don’t,” Maxi warned, “tell me what to do.” The words held more weight to them than Elliot wanted to think about. Maxi’s hand began reaching for his pocket, no doubt where the small square bulge, a pack of cigarettes, awaited his attention.

“I don’t want to, but I’m not going to just let this carry on anymore, especially when it affects him. Besides, you’re his friend—you’re important to him.”

Maxi’s eyes shot up from the ground and latched onto Elliot’s. The last sentence had struck a sensitive chord, one Elliot knew wouldn’t sit well with Maxi.

Maxi shook his head, turned, and stormed off, muttering a weak, “Uh huh, sure.” Elliot didn’t follow. He could only inhale and hope, by some sort of otherworldly miracle, that Maxi would take everything into account and move past his grudge enough to spare Cameron of their thorns.


~+~


Elliot reentered the school and headed back to the hallway in the music wing, his steps heavy and thoughts working like the endless gears of a clock. He turned a corner and, when a quick movement and rusty-orange hair came around the corner and registered in Elliot’s head, he stopped in mid-step.

Cameron let out a tiny yelp and flinched, hands rising up to ward off trouble—a sensible reaction for having just about walked into someone—but Cameron relaxed the moment he recognized Elliot, his face lighting up.

“Hey! Where were you? Your stuff was here but Elena said you were gone, and you didn’t come back—and what’s with that look?”

“Nothing,” Elliot replied, cutting away the weed-like thoughts that had long over grown and out-stayed their welcome. He fell into step beside Cameron as they walked back to the hallway. He’d spent an entire weekend brooding over everything; he was sick and tired of it, long passed ready to put it to rest.

“You were gone a pretty long time. What were you doing?”

“Just taking a walk.” Elliot took a deep breath, allowing himself a safe moment before he allowed his next thought to be vocalized. “There’s something I’ve been considering.”

“Yeah?”

He considered his words carefully. “I don’t think I should hang out with your group at lunch anymore.”

Cameron stopped dead in his tracks, his expression wild and confused. “What?”

“Your friends and I…don’t exactly see eye-to-eye.”

“Elena doesn’t hate you,” Cameron pointed out, voice lowering. “She seems to like you just fine. You don’t hate her either, right?”

Elliot shook his head. “I don’t. But you know what I mean. This isn’t the only problem, either. I’ve been neglecting my own friends and student council work. And you have your friends and club. My being there as much as I have been only causes problems for us both.”

“But—yeah, fine. I guess,” Cameron buried his hands into his pockets. “That’s totally fine and…dandy.”

“I don’t like this anymore than you do,” Elliot said, taking a step closer towards the other. Their shoulders brushed; an urge to embrace the other overwhelmed him. “And as much as I would rather just tell your friends to get over themselves, you mean far more to me than them.”

Cameron glanced at him, his expression momentarily blank before a silly grin overtook him.

Pleased at the reaction, Elliot continued. “Just because I won’t be hanging out with your group anymore doesn’t mean we have to stop spending time together during lunch altogether.”

“What do you mean?”

“We can figure something out—make arrangements of some sort.” Although aware that they were in public, discussing personal matters—albeit in a vague manner—Elliot couldn’t summon up the will to care. Feeling a sudden playfulness, Elliot allowed himself a soft smile and added in a private murmur near the other’s ear, “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

Tripping over his own words, Cameron stumbled out an, “O-Okay. Sounds good.” It took everything Elliot had to not chuckle at the others reaction. It awed him how much like a giddy little boy Cameron could be at times, and even more so that Elliot could feel a similar feeling blooming inside of him. Complimenting those thoughts, Cameron’s grin widened, and everything from moments ago melted away.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Secrets,” said Cameron. “Anyway, how are your new classes? Holy crap, you should see my second period! I swear, half the things the people say in there. And you think I’m weird? Just get this…”

Elliot smiled and allowed himself to be swept up and away into the conversation.


~+~


True to his word, Elliot didn’t show up the next day for lunch. A major disappointment, but as if it could be helped. What Elliot had said only made sense, regardless of whether Cameron liked it or not (which he didn’t).

Down there in the hallway, it was only him and Elena now.

The crisp sound of a page being turned caught Cameron’s ear, and he turned towards her, watching her read with her usual calm and focused expression. How she could sit there and read as much as she did was beyond him. But at least she was there…

“Any plans on getting abducted by aliens?” he said. Elena glanced at him, a momentary flicker of something passing her (he wasn’t sure what—he’d quickly looked away after he’d spoken). She asked what he meant, but Cameron just shook his head and mumbled, “Never mind.”

He caught the movement of Elena closing her book out of the corner of her eye. He also caught her freezing, the book half-closed, and her head tilting up and mouth parting as if to say something. Curious, Cameron glanced in the direction Elena stared at, catching only the swift movement of a book bag plopping onto the floor beside him, and a lean figure flopping down beside it.

It took Cameron a moment to regain his senses. “Alison!”

Alison hummed. “That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”

“You’re here!” Cameron shifted closer, a surge of relief rushing through him. “You’re really here!” His eyebrows turned upwards. “…You’re here?”

“You’ve said that, like, three times already.” A slight upward curl touched Alison’s lips. “You’re making it sound like I returned from the grave.”

Cameron disregarded the sudden urge to make a zombie joke (no matter how easy and fun it would be). “Well…that’s kinda it. You were gone for practically forever. And now you’re back and it’s out of the blue and just…I dunno.”

“Point taken.”

“No Maxi?” Elena inquired.

Alison nodded. “Don’t ask. You know how he gets sometimes. Major angst-fest—and smokes like a fucking chimney, too.” She unzipped her book bag and pulled out a plastic fork and a Tupperware container, which, upon opening, revealed a mini mountain of potato salad.

Cameron’s toes flexed and curled inside his shoes, and he watched Alison eat for a few moments before daring to ask, “He’s coming back, too?”

Alison shrugged, an interlude to an answer Cameron was sure he didn’t want to hear. “Hell if I know. Probably. Once he pulls his head out of his ass.”

Elena closed her book and set it upon her lap. “Is he at the parking lot?”

“That’s where he is?” Cameron said, turning to Elena, who nodded though the movement lacked certainty. He moved to get up, but a quick sound from Alison halted his movements. “What? What?”

“He’s not there,” Alison explained, taking another bite of her lunch. “He got in some car with some girl. They just left.”

“…Oh.” Cameron sat himself back down, though his body still remained tense, ready to jump into motion. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” She swallowed her food. “Unfortunately. He better not be doing anything stupid. Stupid bitch is probably trying to hook up with him.” Alison shoveled in another bite of food. “She’s not his type at all.”

Cameron slumped against the wall, knees drawing themselves up to his chest. “So he’s off far-away. Gone. I was kinda hoping you guys were just too busy or something, but he’s still avoiding me…” A hand touched his shoulder. He turned towards Elena.

“It’s not the first time,” said Elena, and off to Cameron’s other side Alison gave a curt nod.

“He pulled this same stunt the last time he got dumped,” Alison chimed in. “Smoked like a chimney for a week, avoided people and the problem. He’s a confrontational person but only towards people he has no emotional ties to. But that’s not the point. He’ll come around eventually, like always.”

A weak smile tugged at Cameron’s lips. “You guys really think so?”

“Know so,” Alison corrected, pointing her fork at Cameron before digging it into the mini Mount Everest of potato salad. “And on that note, I have something else that I want to say.”

Elena pointed at Alison’s lunch. “Thinking of sharing?”

Alison stared at Elena before a quick chuckle erupted from her. “‘Sharing is caring,’” she murmured, handing a forkful to Elena. “I guess you can consider that a peace offering. About last week, I didn’t ditch you guys because I wanted—”

“Apology accepted,” Elena interrupted.

“Yeah,” Cameron agreed. “You and Maxi are practically joined at the hip, anyway. ‘Course you'd stay with him and you’d make sure he was all right.”

Alison said nothing. She seemed to enter her own thoughts for a moment, at least until she pointed a finger at Elena. “You accept things too much, and you,” she turned her attention to Cameron, “should be about ready to rip my head off.”

Cameron raised his hands in defense. “I’m just happy that you’re not avoiding me anymore—you’re not, right?”

“Of course not. I’ve had my fill of juvenile pouting.” Alison let out an exasperated sigh. “Whatever happened to the good old days where people got pissed off when somebody does asshole-ish things?”

Cameron chuckled. “Is that your way of apologizing?”

“Sure.” Alison propped her hands on her hips. “Got a problem with that? Want to take it outside?” When Cameron just stuck his tongue out at her, she mimicked the action and gave his shoulder a light, playful punch. Cameron retaliated the best way he knew how: he stole her food.


~+~


Cameron sat at his new desk in his fourth period biology class, taking in all of the activity that buzzed around him like a sponge. His foot tapped against the tiled floor, and he looked all around, itching for something to do. The bright sunlit classroom had posters covering the walls, shelves stacked with colourful biology textbooks and potted plants, equipment for the other science classes that went on in there. There wasn’t a moment when Cameron’s attention was being grabbed by something. He studied the room and said hello to the people around him. They seemed nice, even if the one in front of him ignored him (or maybe they didn’t hear him?).

The teacher at the front of the room shushed the class and began their first subject for the semester with controlled enthusiasm.

As the earlier stages of the lesson began, Cameron’s attention drifted to the large glinting window behind him, which had been recently cleaned for the new semester. He could see the long stretch of pavement of the rear parking lot. The gently rolling hills of snow sparkled, something that Cameron didn’t think would ever get over (since when did something so cold get so pretty?) Then there was the beginning of the dense woods near the very back of the school. And…

Gaping, Cameron spun around in his chair with a shrill screech. Maxi?!

The dark-skinned boy crossed the parking lot in what looked to be long, heavy trudges, with his hands buried deep in his jacket pockets. From a side view it was kind of hard to tell, but Cameron swore that Maxi looked pensive.

But what was Maxi doing outside? Skipping? Did he just get back from his mini-road trip? He was now headed towards the back, near the trees. Where could he be—

Of course! The hill!

“Mr. Flynn? See something fascinating out there?”

Cameron rotated back around to face the young female teacher, who had walked down the aisle of desks to his, a textbook open in her hands and an eyebrow rising up into her strawberry blonde hair. Her concentrated stare, along with that of his classmates, bore into him.

“I gotta go,” Cameron blurted.

“We’re in class, Mr. Flynn.”

“But I gotta go…to…the bathroom! Really bad. I drank, like, an entire gallon of water during break,” Cameron explained, the sound of his own vocal fumbling painful to his own ears. A few students on the other side of the room snickered.

If the situation hadn’t been so urgent, Cameron might have laughed at the baffled look the teacher had.  She sighed and motioned for him to go. Cameron bolted from his seat, chanting a hasty “thank you” as he dashed out the room.

Once he’d found the nearest exit (and charged right through it), Cameron stumbled outside into the cold, a little out of breath. The sudden cold nipped at him, and he immediately wished he’d brought his coat. But there was no time to turn back. Who knew where Maxi was heading—what if he left the campus altogether? His teacher would wonder why he’d rushed back for a coat, too. Cameron crossed his arms in a weak attempt to keep himself from shivering out of his skin and jogged towards his destination, hoping all the while that no one would spot him. Besides, he’d only be gone for a little bit. No harm done.

He found a quick, seldom used route and followed it. His legs brushed past frozen bushes that poked and clung to his uniform pants. Snow crunched under his shoes, deafening in the winter silence. Cameron’s teeth began to chatter, but he wasn’t sure if it was just because of the cold. He clamped his jaw shut and hoped the odd reaction would just go away.

Finally, he broke out and onto the top of the hill. It looked familiar yet alien all at once. The hill was a large lump of white with naked trees surrounding the opposite side, a winter version of a child’s sandcastle. And there, on the middle of the hill, legs crossed, back facing him, and using his jacket as a sort of seat, sat Maxi.

Cameron couldn’t get his feet to move. They were glued to the ground, resisting the voice in his head that urged him to charge forward without looking back. His insides were constricting in protest, its rebuttal to the inner argument sharper than the one in his head. He hadn’t seen Maxi since their argument…

But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—think about that. Cameron recrossed his arms, tighter than before, and began tiptoeing towards Maxi. Maybe if he was quiet, Maxi wouldn’t get annoyed and storm off. Something about the situation seemed too delicate for him to fully comprehend.

Without turning around, Maxi called out, “You can quit trying to be quiet.” A steady stream of smoke floated upwards with those words. “It’s not working.”

Cameron froze, only a few meters away, then regained his courage and went to Maxi’s side. The strong smell of Maxi’s cigarettes hit him, but Cameron knew he’d soon forget it existed. “Hi,” Cameron said, swallowing.

“Hmm.”

Cameron moved as if to sit down beside Maxi, but he caught himself and said, “Is it okay if I sit down?”

Still not looking up. Maxi moved his tiny cigarette to the corner of his mouth to speak. “Knock yourself out.”

Taking that as a good sign (at least he hoped it was) Cameron sat down beside Maxi on the spread out jacket. He felt himself sink a little, his rear end and his supporting hand pressing down into the cushioning snow. His shoulder brushed against Maxi’s. Maxi recoiled, his shoulders lifted, tensing. Cameron’s heart sank, heavy as stone.

“You’re still mad.”

Maxi blew out another stream of smoke. “You came here because of him, didn’t you?”

“Huh?”

“…Never mind.”

“Okay then,” Cameron uttered under his breath. They fell into silence. For a place so still and quiet Cameron couldn’t help but feel unsettled. He fidgeted where he sat, a thousand things to say rushing through him, stupid little things that had nothing to do with anything: the weather, their new classes, how Maxi’s been, who the girl he’d hung out with lunch was. Cameron verbalized at least half before he gave up; Maxi remained like before. Cameron’s mind drew a blank.

Cameron swallowed, reminded of all the times he’d been confronted with unpleasantness. It never got any easier. Cameron could only sit there, allowing time and cold to eat at his nerves.

Maxi sucked in a large breath and let it out with the words, “What the hell are you doing, skipping class?”

Cameron blinked, then shrugged. “I’m not really skipping; I came to see you… What’re you doing outside of class?”

“Avoiding the shittiest class in history.” Maxi grazed a hand over the virgin-white snow. “And I’m not mad at you.”

“You aren’t?” Regardless the budding optimism, Cameron added, “So you avoided me for a week because…?”

Maxi tossed him a look, the first time he’d looked at him in a long while, that read as “of course you bring that up.” Maxi let out an exhale. “I needed time alone, man. I was pissed off at you, remember? Besides, it’s not like you went after me or anything.”

“I did—I called your place. You weren’t home.”

Maxi stilled, then blew out another stream of smoke. “I don’t like it."

“…No?”

“No.” Maxi turned away again and hauled a handful of snow off the ground; he played around with it, rolled it into a ball. He balanced it between his two bare hands. Cameron couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of touching cold snow with exposed skin. He rubbed his sleeved arms, hoping the friction would warm him up.

“And I can’t believe that you guys are close enough for… that. I mean, how the hell did that happen?” The snow in his hands gave a wet-sounding scrunch as he compressed it. “It’s not fair. You were my friend first.”

“Wait,” Cameron said, eyebrows turning upwards, “you’re jealous?”

Maxi floundered for a brief second, but he nodded and said in haste, “Damn straight I’m jealous! Who does Elliot think he is, waltzing around, stealing friends like he fucking owns the world?”

“Whoa, whoa, hold up. Elliot didn’t ‘steal me,’” Cameron corrected. “I was kinda the one chasing him around, so wouldn’t it be that I stole him—not that he’s an object to steal, though…”

Maxi frowned, tossed the compact ball of snow far off to disappear in the thick blanket of snow, then gathered some more. “Yeah, I know. It sounds stupid. It’s just…”

“That you’ll blame him no matter what? Because you hate him?”

Maxi’s teeth tugged at his lip piercings. He took a last drag of his shortened cigarette than tossed it, letting the snow extinguish its tiny flame. “If I could, I wouldn’t. I don’t want to hate him.”

So he’d been right. “You want to be friends again?”

Any hope, however miniscule, was crushed underneath Maxi’s heavy chuckle. “It won’t happen. I can’t even say hi to the guy without it sounding like ‘would you like a fucking punch in the face?’” More tugging at his lip, working the soft flesh, and the thought, over. “I did at some point. I don’t even know anymore.”

Cameron nodded, rubbing his arms harder. “The falling out was that bad, huh?”

“The funny thing is that I don’t even remember what we fought about. At all. Just what he said at the end.” The smirk disappeared. “That I’m unimportant.”

The scene constructed itself in Cameron’s inner mental studio: two young teenaged boys. There would be a zoomed in camera, a bleak background with muted colours, and the setting would be somewhere familiar, done in dim lighting maybe. And no soundtrack. Utter silence, the sort where an entire audience holds their breath. He could see what sort of expression Elliot would have worn, even hear the somberness in his voice. Cameron’s gut gave a clench.

“When I was a kid,” Maxi said, all bitterness in his voice replaced with something else, “people used to say things to me. About me. I didn’t get them at first, but I picked up when they meant pretty quick.” His voice became slightly strained. “They’d say things about me, about my parents. They’d say disgusting things, just because my mom’s white and my dad’s black. They kept saying they were joking, kept telling me to lighten up. Elliot was the first person I ever met that didn’t care about that. He treated me like any other kid." Maxi let out faint chuckle. "He even punched a kid once for the dumb shit they said.”

There went that inner pinch, reminiscent of before, when Jacqueline had told him how much Elliot had meant to her… “He meant a lot to you,” Cameron thought aloud.

Maxi laughed again; it sounded miserable. “‘Meant,’” he repeated with a shake of his head. His laughs were always quick, Cameron noticed, never too long and lasting; quick reactions, instinctive. “No matter what, this is going to fucking suck. I hate seeing you two together. It reminds me of how we used to be, before it all went to shit. Except less gay, obviously.”

Cameron’s lips pursed, his throat gone dry.

“But,” Maxi said, turning to Cameron, “that’s no excuse for being an asshole to you. So, I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Maxi protested. “You’re my friend and I treated you like crap. Who the hell lets a person do that?”

“Me?” Cameron replied with a goofy grin.

Maxi shook his head. “You dork,” he chastised, then raised a hand and smashed it down onto Cameron’s head. The moment the icy-coldness of the snow registered, Cameron jumped and yelped, hastily brushing the snow off his head before it could do any damage.

Beside him, Maxi smirked and let out a, “ha-ha, got you wet!” Cameron shot Maxi a quick look; by the time his plan of action had been birthed, his hands were already moving towards the snow. Maxi caught Cameron’s grin. His eyes widened.

“You wouldn’t.”

Cameron gathered a gratuitous handful of snow. “You have five seconds.”

Maxi bolted up, shouting “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Cameron jumped up and went after him, colliding into Maxi and sending them both into a tumbling mass of flailing limbs onto the blanket of snow. They landed with a loud, wet crunch and an “oomph,” with Cameron on top. He regained himself and set about “returning the favor” (with interest). Maxi thrashed underneath him, his yelps mingled with barking laughter and demands.

“H-Hey! Off, off! I can’t breathe!”

Laughing, Cameron climbed off Maxi to admire his handiwork: a wet, dark-skinned boy with hooded, bemused eyes and a droopy frown. It was a sight well-worth rolling around in the cold snow for, no matter how much Cameron's shivering body argued otherwise.

“Gee, thanks for getting me wet. I totally needed that.”

“Thank you for breaking my fall.”

Maxi snorted, then went about picking at the clumps of snow clinging to his hair, clothes, and the back of his neck. “Crap. I think some of it went down my shirt!” He shivered, then did a weird dance to shake the snow out. “We cool now?”

“Pun intended?”

“Duh.” Maxi leaned over and, wrapping an arm around Cameron’s neck, hauled Cameron down and trapped him in a headlock. He ruffled Cameron’s hair. Cameron laughed and flailed for freedom.

“It’d be stupid it we stopped being friends over dumb shit,” Maxi said with a smirk. "I’ll just have to hog you all to myself so that nasty-old Elliot doesn’t get to keep you all to himself.”

Cameron laughed and continued to push as Maxi.

Before anything else could be said, a distant bell rang. Cameron and Maxi stilled, then they straightened up, wearing matching expressions that sang the blissful words “Oh shit!” Once the rolling ring ended, they looked at each other.

“Did you bring your stuff?”

Cameron shook his head. “How the hell am I going to explain why I was gone for an entire period?”

Maxi hummed, turning to the school. He stroked his chin mock-sagely, like he would a beard. A wide grin appeared on his pierced lips. “Easy. I go back with you and bail you out.”

“How’re you gonna do that?”

Maxi waved his hand in dismissal as he bent down to hoist up his now damp jacket. “Details, Cam-Cam, details. I’ll think of something. Who do you have, anyway?”

“I think her name’s Ms. Jordan.”

Maxi whistled. “Good thing. She likes me. I had her last semester. You’re good to go.” He put an arm around Cameron’s shoulder and began leading him toward the school. “Seriously, man. What would you ever do without me?”


~+~


To Be Continued