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Warning: Contains Boy's Love and vulgar language.

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Chapter 3: Sickness and Longing


Cameron woke up in a fever.

He rose up from his bed, his hand clutched on his chest right above his heart. His heart pounded in a rhythm much too quick for it to be ignored. Complex images of what had lived just a few moments ago flashed lightening quick in his mind, images that had died but left an echo when he had awoken. Cameron swallowed, the action bringing him to notice just how parched his throat was.

Once the initial panic and alarm had subsided, Cameron fell back onto his bed, sighing when his head hit his large and soft pillow. Those images…a strange feeling compressed itself inside his chest, the constriction emphasized each time he breathed. When he thought of those images, and it was almost as if he were reliving them again. A thin shudder rushed through him. He closed his eyes, able see that scowl that didn’t degrade or mock the dirty-blonds’ regal demeanor, but made him appear unapproachable, unfriendly, and defensive.

But defensive people had things to hide, things to protect, right? Why else would Elliot behave like that? There had to be a reason (even if he had no idea what that was). The question toyed around with his curiosity, and Cameron couldn’t help but get sucked in.

But that wasn’t all. Cameron couldn’t deny how uneasy he had been around Elliot when they’d first met, and how that uneasiness had shifted into something far less comprehensible during the club over a week ago. Each meeting had left him wondering about the other boy (what was Elliot’s problem? Why did he look so serious all of the time? Did he ever smile, or at least loosen up a little?)

Elliot had permeated mind throughout the week, living surreally in his concious thoughts. Now his image invaded his dreams, and Cameron didn’t know what to do. Was he really just curious about Elliot?

He opened his eyes again and pressed the back of his hand to his burning forehead, thinking again of the odd dream he’d had. “…What was that?”


~+~


Jacqueline lowered her fork. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

Elliot cocked an eyebrow, almost offended that she looked as confounded as she did. It had been exactly a week since the incident and word had gotten out rather quickly. “Do you think I’m making this stuff up?”

“Well, no,” she admitted. “I thought everyone—yes, including you, Elliot—was just exaggerating. I’m not sure what to believe. I didn’t get to see this ‘grand spectacle,’” Jacqueline replied, giving an apologetic smile. “It was all you talked about, and, well, you do overreact towards things sometimes.”

“I wasn’t overreacting,” Elliot said, taking a quick sip of his drink. “I still find it hard to believe that a bunch of teenagers ran around, dressed up like it was Halloween, and tried to recruit people into their club. And I was right there!”

Jacqueline stifled a chortle. “I guess The President wasn’t lying when he said the club would liven the place up a bit. It actually sounds pretty fun, dressing up like that.”

“It’s not,” Elliot insisted, thinking again of the horrendous black heart Cameron had contaminated his cheek with.

Jacqueline shook her head and took another bite of her Greek salad. “In any case, it sounds more like harmless fun than some sort of ‘devil worshipping,’ as you put it a moment ago. Why not just let it go?”

Elliot pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, and resisted the urge to snap at one of the few people he respected. Jacqueline had always been a tolerant person, accepting of everything that occurred around her, but Elliot found it hard to believe that even she would accept something like the outlandish club. “Not you too, Jackie.” When she didn’t respond, he lowered his hand and frowned. “Am I the only one here who thinks this whole thing is just ridiculous?”

“No,” Jacqueline reassured with a shake of her head.

Elliot’s frown faded. “Really?”

“Yeah. The President said something to me about you acting ridiculous.” She took another bite of her salad. “Of course, he said it with a smirk, so he might’ve just been joking again. I’m not sure; it’s sort of hard to tell when it comes to him. He’s not a very easy person to understand.”

Elliot didn’t answer. The President teasing him was nothing new, much less something to be concerned about. However, it struck him as odd that no one else thought that the club was weird.

Was the whole world going insane?

Or...was The President right?

No, no. I’m not wrong. The whole world is just going crazy. Or the entire school population, at the very least.

But if that were really true, why was he suddenly having a hard time convincing himself of that?

“Wow, it’s already twenty after twelve,” Jacqueline said, her soft voice bringing Elliot out of his own world at the mention of the time. He glanced at the clock and inwardly frowned. Twenty after twelve; that meant his time was up and he had to go to another fan club meeting.

Elliot groaned underneath his breath, the sound inaudible to anyone but himself. He rose from his chair and gathered up the remains of his meal. “I’d hate to leave, but I have to get going in a few minutes.”

Jacqueline waved her hand in dismissal. “I understand. But before you leave, I’d like to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think it’d be possible if I could go with you? To the meeting, I mean,” she asked with a small smile.

Elliot cocked an eyebrow. “Why in the world would you want to do that?”

“Curiosity?” she retorted with a tiny, mock-pout.

Elliot stared at her for a good long minute, his frowning mouth almost twitching into an irritated smile. He couldn’t imagine someone like Jacqueline going to a boisterous club meeting. “Right. Why do you really want to go?” he said.

Jacqueline stifled a chortle. “That obvious, huh?” She shook her head as though she were mentally scolding herself, her white-blonde curls flipping over her shoulder at the movement. She crossed her arms and stared up into Elliot’s defiant eyes. She looked almost petite as she stared up at him, trying to mimic his natural confidence. “I just want to see what has kept you so preoccupied. It’s just as I’ve said: curiosity.”

Elliot didn’t feel so reassured by her answer. “Are you lying to me, Jackie?”

She shook her head with a look of mock-horror. “Heavens, no! I could never do that to you. I’d really just like to go and see what all the fuss is about.”

Heaving a sigh, Elliot ran his hand through his dirty-blond hair. “Fine. I honestly don’t see the point, but do what you want.”

She smiled, pleased at the response, and began to help Elliot clean up the table they had been eating at. Elliot couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander as they cleaned, wondering just what about the club had caught Jacqueline’s interest. Then there was the actual club itself, what it had planned this time. Something obscene, no doubt.

“Elliot?”

At the sound of his name, Eliot looked over his shoulder and noticed that Jacqueline was already ready and standing by the door. “Are you ready?”

Elliot looked around his workstation. Satisfied that he had everything he’d need for his afternoon classes and the dreaded club meeting, he shrugged his backpack onto his shoulder and headed for the door. “Yeah. I guess I am.”


~+~


“Whoa,” Jacqueline whispered in awe. She tilted her head up, eyes staring at some of the black and white streamers that hung above the doorway and from the ceiling. “You weren’t kidding when you said they went all out. This is amazing! I’ve never seen a club put this much effort in appearance.”

“Of course we do,” a voice answered from behind them. Elliot and Jacqueline turned and looked up at the azure-haired girl, Alison. “Could you two please move? You’re blocking the way.”

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Jacqueline apologized and stepped out of the way. Elliot stared up at Alison with a frown that matched and defied her bored one before he stepped out of the way. Alison rolled her eyes and walked into the room, clutching a black clipboard to her waist with even more blank sheets of paper. Most likely for the newcomers, Elliot noted. The group inside the clubroom seemed bigger than the last time…

“So many piercings,” Jacqueline breathed. She leaned over towards Elliot and asked, “How many do you think there are in total?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, only half-paying attention to her while he eyed the room. There had to be at least six more people than last time. “A dozen, maybe?”

“Wow. I wonder how much they all hurt to get? I’ve always heard that..." Jacqueline’s voice faded into the background of Elliot’s mind as he focused his concentration completely on Alison, who sat by herself on the same table from the day before, flipping through the pages on her clipboard and occasionally writing something down on a piece of paper beside her. Something seemed off, different from the last meeting a week ago.

It finally occurred to him after a minute of looking around the room. Where was the annoying club president?

Leaving Jacqueline to herself, who had just gotten into a conversation with one of the younger club members, Elliot approached Alison.

When he got close enough to her, Alison glanced up from her work and said, “And what can I do for you today, Mr. Pompous-Pants?”

Elliot froze at the insult but mentally brushed it off. Sticks and stones. “I think there’s a rule against that many piercings in the student handbook,” he said. “It’s a safety hazard.”

“Only if chains or other lose articles attached to the piercings are involved, and as you can see, there are none. I’m in the clear. But it's nice to know that you care about my safety,” she retorted with a smirk. She flipped through another page and wrote down what Elliot noticed to be someone’s name and number onto the sheet of paper beside her on a second copy. “It’ll take a lot more besides a dress code to get The President to shut down this club. Nice try, though.”

Elliot crossed his arms, not bothering to hide his air of annoyance. The girl was smarter than he had previously taken her for. “So where’s your friend?”

Alison stopped writing whatever it was she had been writing and looked at Elliot blankly. “Friend? Which friend?”

Elliot huffed. “You know whom I mean. The redhead. Annoying, smiles too much, deserves a good kick in the ass for what he did to me at your last meeting. You know, your friend.”

A smirk flashed across her face. “Ah. Cameron.” The amused smirk disappeared as quickly as it came when she turned back to her work. “He’s out sick today.”

Elliot blinked, at a momentary loss. “Sick?” he repeated. How in the world did someone that energetic and enthusiastic as him ever get sick at such a random time? “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Regardless of what you might think, he’s human just like us. He does get sick every once in a while.” The pen in her hand stopped when it touched the clipboard on her lap. She peered up at him with listless and inquiring eyes. “Does that bother you?”

“What? No. Of course not. I was just wondering. I half-hoped he had just given up and didn’t bother with showing up.” Elliot frowned when Alison let out a exasperated sigh.

“He’s not the type that’s easily chased off,” she explained with a shake of her head. “He’s a pretty damned determined person. He wouldn’t just ‘give up.’” She put the clipboard and pen onto the table and stretched her arms. “Just so you know, there’s no need for you to be here today. All of our plans and materials for today are at Cameron’s place. Since he’s not here, there’s nothing we can really do. And since it’s only the second meeting anyway, today is pretty much just a day for new people to sign up and get information, so it’s not like you’ll be missing much. You’re free to stop bothering me with your petty crap and leave whenever you want.”

Elliot narrowed his eyes at Alison, annoyed at her blunt rudeness. He considered making a note of the situation—club leader unable to show up at his own meetings without a notice—but after a second-thought Elliot reconsidered. A club suddenly leader getting sick wouldn’t be enough to shut down a club. Which meant that, like the last meeting, this was couldn’t have been used for anything; a complete waste.

The thought of having gone to a meeting he wanted nothing to do with, only to find out that the very person who was in charge of the club wasn’t even there didn’t sit too well with Elliot.

Before he could ask—or demand—anything else, he felt a delicate hand touch his shoulder from behind, a silent intrusion of their conversation.

“Elliot? What’s going on?” Jacqueline inquired.

“Nothing.” He turned around, letting Jacqueline’s hand fall from his shoulder. “There’s no meeting today, so I’m leaving now.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and headed for the door. He didn’t want to spend any more time there than he had to. “You can stay if you want.”

“Oh.” He heard her mutter almost weakly from behind him. He kept walking and was almost outside the door when he heard Jacqueline calling after him as she rushed to join him. “W-Wait for me. I’ll go with you.”

Elliot stopped just a little ways off from the door to the club and waited for her to catch up. As they walked she started up a new conversation about how amazing the club room looked and how it must’ve taken forever for them to decorate it. Elliot only nodded, mumbling an occasional “Yeah, probably” when nodding his head didn’t become enough. While his friend talked, his thoughts drifted off to how weird that room had felt without the redhead there.

Wait, what was he thinking? It was a good thing the damned kid wasn’t there. He got to leave early and it wouldn’t be another week until the next meeting. He should be happy about that. He hated the redhead almost as much as he hated the thought of the club's existence in his school. Even if it took a little longer now to shut down the club, he still got out of what could have been an awful way to spend his free time.

…Still, no part of him felt completely convinced.

He was supposed to be happy that the meeting never happened that day, so why didn’t he feel happy?


~+~


After he had gotten home from school, Elliot stormed through his empty house and tossed his backpack into a corner of his room, then flopped face-first down onto his king-sized bed. He turned his head and stared blankly at the light blue walls. He scowled at the walls, suddenly not liking the shade. It was too bright and cheery, and bright and cheery was certainly not his mood at that particular moment. He rolled over so that he lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling…which was also a cheery light blue. Growling profanities under his breath, Elliot closed his eyes and placed the back of his hand over his eyes, shielding him from the unwanted brightness of the day.

What a long day it had been. After lunch he hadn’t been able to concentrate much on the outside world. Halfway through his Physics test he had to snap himself out of his thoughts, where he had been lost for about a good twenty minutes, so that he could finish the damned test. He couldn’t remember much of what really happened, except that Jacqueline had already finalized some of her plans for her upcoming Halloween party next month, and he had a History test coming up on Friday. The sole part of the day that brought him some sort of comfort was the fact that his parents were still away—far, far away, he hoped—on their business meetings. In a house as large as his, only he and his mother’s pet cat, Muffin, resided in it, and that was perfectly all right with him.

But those thoughts of his day at school kept returning, forcing aside all other comforts. “Marvelous,” Elliot mumbled. Today should’ve gone just fine and yet it hadn’t. Why? What had been so different from today in comparison to any other day?

Was it all because of that redhead?

Elliot growled and rolled over again, this time burying his face into a nearby pillow in hopes of ignoring the frustration that gnawed inside. Even when that redhead wasn’t there, his entire day went to shit. What was so special about him anyway? Nothing! All he ever did was smile and say weird, optimistic things. How useful was that?

Minutes passed, perhaps an hour. All the while Elliot gradually began to relax, too tired to keep up with the exhausting thoughts that thrashed about in his head.

“Stupid redhead,” he mumbled with a blank, almost sad expression.

And for the third time that day, he didn’t quite believe himself.


~+~


It looked so warm and nice outside. The bright sky looked so blue and vast, completely endless. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and there was a gentle, pleasing breeze. It seemed like the perfect kind of summer wind that always complimented the already perfect day (or at least what Cameron considered to be a perfect day).

Too bad he was stuck inside, sick in bed. The perfect day had gone to waste. Under orders from his dad and his sister, Cheryl, he had to stay in bed until he got well again. And, in spite of his restlessness and boredom, Cameron didn’t really disagree with them. When he’d looked at himself in the mirror that morning, he almost wanted to throw himself back into bed. His cheeks were a flushed red, and there were slight bags under his eyes from lack of proper sleep. He looked and felt a lot less energized than usual. It took a lot out of him just to sit up in bed and watch a movie to pass the time.

Cameron sighed. “Some day this is turning out to be.”

A hollow rapping sounded at his door. Using his arms as leverage and support, Cameron sat up in his bed, his optimism levels rising at the thought of a visitor. The door opened. “Knock, knock,” a voice drawled from the doorway.

Cameron smiled. “Hey! Come on in. Watch out the mountains of Kleenex—don’t want you getting lost,” he said with a weak, tired laugh.

“Hey,” Alison greeted. She took a look at the described “mountains of Kleenex” and made a face and let out a small laugh. She side-stepped around them and went to Cameron’s side. “Cheryl let me in. Said you were in need of some cheering up. How’re you feeling? Any better?”

“A little. Dad said it's just a fever, so I should be fine for tomorrow. It’s not contagious either, so no need to freak out,” he joked, his laughter dying too soon. He then scratched the back of his head. “how’d the meeting go?”

Alison shrugged and, after shuffling aside a few comic books, made herself comfortable on Cameron’s bed. “It went.”

“What happened today?”

“Nothing much.” She pulled off her backpack and dug out a small binder. “We have about thirteen new members.”

Cameron whistled. “So we have about thirty members in total now? Damn.” He couldn’t imagine that many people being interested enough to join the club, but it cheered him up a great deal. “That’s great! I guess the advertising last week really paid off.” He crossed his arms behind his head, smiling at the thought of his club growing. Maybe they’d get even more members next week. “Sorry I couldn’t make it to today’s meeting.”

“It’s alright. You’re sick, that’s a pretty good excuse.”

“No it’s not. It was the second meeting—it’s the second most important meeting,” he said, grinning when Alison chuckled and muttered back a “No duh” and made a face at him. Cameron stuck his tongue out at her.

“Was anyone angry I wasn’t there?” he asked.

A smirk appeared on Alison’s lips. The smile on Cameron’s face faded. When Alison smirked, it was usually because she knew something that he didn’t (and probably took some sort of amusement out of the hidden knowledge, too).

“Alison?”

She waved her hand to dismiss the slight alarm in his voice. “Nothing of extreme consequence.”

"And that means?…?”

“Well, he asked where you were. Seemed pretty upset about it, too.”

“Oh.” That didn’t make him feel any better, knowing for sure now that somebody was angry with him. He sighed, already beginning to feel a heavy guilt settle in the depths of his stomach. But then he paused. “Wait, whose ‘he’?”

Alison’s smirk widened. “Mr. Ass-hole himself.” When Cameron didn’t respond, she said, “You know, Elliot.”

“H-He did?” A sudden giddiness overwhelmed him, like his chest was filling up with extra-strength battery powered butterflies. Cameron almost smiled—truly smiled—at the thought. Elliot had really asked where he was? He’d probably done it with a scowling expression and annoyed voice, but somehow that part didn’t matter as much. Cameron felt a warmth settle in his cheeks, and he was most definitely sure that it wasn’t just his fever.

The smirk disappeared from Alison’s face, replaced with her usual blank expression. “I don’t think you need to worry. I think he was just looking for something to complain about to his precious President.”

“O-Oh.” The fluttering, giddy feeling left his chest, leaving behind a distinct emptiness. He laughed it off. “Yeah, that's probably true. Poor guy. I almost feel bad for him. He seems so dead-set against this club and yet I can’t see him finding any way of getting us to shut down.”

Alison stared at Cameron for a minute or two. He inwardly froze, wondering what it was she stared so intently at. But she tore her inquiring eyes off of him. “He’ll just need to learn to accept it. But it might take a while. He seems pretty stubborn.”

Cameron nodded in agreement, pondering too hard and too long on those words.

After Alison bid him good-bye and went home, Cameron went back to staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom while a turbulent of thoughts swirled in his head. So Elliot had asked about him… Of course it was because he wanted reasons to shut down the club, but Cameron couldn’t help but hope otherwise. What was so bad about his club? Last week had been a success and even more people were joining. What did Elliot see in the club that made him feel so strongly about shutting it down?

Cameron closed his tired eyes, exhausted but unable to fall asleep. He’d barely gotten a few hours sleep the night before, especially because of that dream. One thing was certain: he could never tell anyone about it. Not that anything intensely strange had happened in it. It was just who had been in it that made Cameron feel so…peculiar. Worse yet, he didn’t understand why.

Whenever he thought of the dream, he never once thought of what had been going on around him. All he could really think about was how Elliot had looked in his dream with those fierce, predatory-like eyes, and the way he had leaned in, his face so close it almost touched his neck. There had even been the slightest hint of a coy smile on Elliot’s lips. The very majestic air that had followed Elliot wherever he went seemed to surround them in an alluring mist. Cameron couldn’t move without some part of him being only too aware of Elliot’s warm presence. And when Elliot had slyly opened his mouth, about to speak words that he had felt could’ve revealed the ultimate truth about the world, about them both...

—Cameron had woken up. With a fever.

At that thought, Cameron rolled over in his bed and glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand. The red glowing numbers read eight PM. Cameron covered his face with his hands. He wished he could rip out the queer feelings that assembled inside and toss them out his bedroom window. He wanted to fall asleep and wake up with a fresh start, without wondering about some guy that he hardly even knew (and, as far as he could tell, hated his guts).

His hands fell from his face. Cameron stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows slowly grow dimmer and denser as sunset steadily approached.

As exhausted as he felt, no part of him felt capable of sleep, which meant a long night ahead.

His restlessness finally pushing him to action, Cameron sat himself back up in bed and grabbed a nearby binder and a pen. He began to write down ideas, anything that came to mind. The ideas birthed from the pen and put to paper were for his club, but as Cameron wrote, another idea began to form in his head, one that him hoping it would help him deal with the dirty-blond haired problem he had at hand.


~+~


To Be Continued