#you BET the batch uses this as blackmail later

[toucheholland23]

Uncle Cross “i hate everyone” hair. Based on one of our moments of inspiration with @lostjediis

[iam93percentstardust]

hey alle, so for the prompts i'd love some cute and funny winteriron with bucky wanting to impress tony with his cooking, but tony being a very picky eater. which leads to a lot of frustration on bucky's side, and obliviousness on what is even going on from tony's. if you feel like it. thank you! <3

Here it is! The long-awaited His Girl FRIDAY remix! I hope you love this as much as I do!

As always, everything I write is on ao3 too

~

The first time Bucky left food in Tony’s workshop and come back to find it untouched, he’d figured it was a fluke. Tony had probably been caught up in a zone—like Steve had warned him about when Bucky had decided he was going to woo Tony with food—and hadn’t noticed the food was even there.

The second time, he made sure to catch Tony’s attention as he was dropping off the plate—lasagna because Natalia had said Tony’s mother was Italian and Bucky made a pretty decent lasagna if he did say so. Tony had glanced at him and then at the plate before turning away with a slightly bewildered frown. Bucky had taken the frown to mean that no one else had ever bothered before to take care of Tony, which was a fact that had just about broken his heart, and left the plate there. He’d gone back later that night to find the lasagna untouched. That had been a little harder to explain away, but he’d eventually decided that maybe Tony was one of those food snobs who only liked Italian food made by actual Italians.

The third time he made oatmeal with a little bit of honey and cream, perfect for someone with as much of a sweet tooth as Tony had, and brought it into the workshop for Tony, who had spent the entire night working on new arrows for Clint.

“Tony?” he called softly, not wanting to startle him. Tony was uncomfortable enough with all the new people moving into the tower after everything with SHIELD and Hydra; being Hydra’s pet assassin, he didn’t want to make it worse by sneaking up on him. “I brought you some breakfast.”

Tony popped up from underneath a table, visibly brightening. “Oh good,” he said cheerfully, making grabby hands at the bowl. “I was just starting to get hungry.” His hair was mussed, two perfect rings of black smeared around his eyes, likely where the goggles currently perched on top of his head had been resting earlier.

Bucky smiled at the adorable display and held out the bowl. Tony eagerly grabbed it, only to blink at it as soon as he saw what was in it.

“Oatmeal?” he asked delicately.

“I thought you’d appreciate having something a little more delicate after not eating for a while,” Bucky explained.

“…Oh.” After another awkward moment, Tony said carefully, “Thanks.”

Satisfied, Bucky left him to his work. This time—this time—Tony would eat it all and then he’d see what an amazing cook Bucky was and how he would absolutely be able to provide for Tony and then he’d swoon into Bucky’s arms and demand that Bucky take him right there.

Okay maybe not right there—the workshop didn’t seem like the best location for amorous activities—but that was why they called it a fantasy, right?

Too bad Tony punctured that fantasy like a balloon.

Bucky went back downstairs long to pick up the bowl after Tony had come up to the common areas, yawning widely and telling everyone he was heading to bed for the next twenty-four hours so don’t bother him unless New York was on fire. It had been a bit of a disappointment that he’d just nodded at Bucky without saying anything about the breakfast or about his everlasting feelings for him, but not nearly as much of a disappointment to walk into the workshop to find the bowl as untouched as all the other meals he’d so painstakingly prepared.

~

“I don’t get it,” he whined to Sam later that day. “I’m a good cook.”

Sam gave him an unimpressed look. “Are you sure? It’s been, what, seventy years since the last time you made anything. Maybe you’re not as good as you used to be.”

Bucky gasped dramatically. “You take that back!”

“No. You promised me you’d offer dating advice with Natasha and instead you’re sitting here mooning over Tony’s ass again so I’ll say whatever I like about your cooking.”

“Sorry,” he muttered guiltily. Sam was right. He had promised that. Or, rather, Steve had promised advice and Bucky had taken one look at him still pining over Peggy and feeling weird about his current interest being Peggy’s niece (a valid way to feel) and declared him hopeless before telling Sam that he would help him out instead. After all, he remembered Natalia from the years she’d spent training with him during her childhood. Who else would be more qualified to teach Sam how to woo her? Well, besides Clint obviously, but he was taking some personal time away from the team.

“She likes the ballet,” he said. “She wanted to be a ballerina when she was younger, said they were as graceful as any Widow only they didn’t have to kill.”

“And you’re sure that won’t just make her sad?” Sam asked dubiously.

Bucky glared at him. “I might not like you very much—” Sam rolled his eyes—"But I like Natalia a whole lot. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. Take her to the ballet and take Steve and Sharon while you’re at it. A double date will help her feel less trapped and maybe Steve will stop moping and ask Sharon out.”

“It’s a little weird, you know.”

“Sure, but he kissed Peggy once and it’s not like he’s ever gonna go back to the war and live out the rest of his time there, so he might as well move on.”

Sam laughed. “Guess that’s true.” He sighed, smile fading away. “I don’t know why Tony’s ignoring your meals. Sorry about that though. It sucks.”

“If I may,” JARVIS cut in. Both of them jumped, though Bucky would deny to his dying day that he yelped. Sam, on the other hand, shrieked like a kid and Bucky reminded himself to go back and access the audio footage so he would have blackmail.

“Sorry, JARVIS,” he apologized. “Keep forgetting you’re up there. Didn’t exactly have AI back during the war.”

“Or even in other houses,” Sam added.

“My apologies,” JARVIS said, and he’ll be damned if JARVIS didn’t sound extremely apologetic. It was incredible, really, how much life Tony imbued in his creations. “I only wanted to offer my advice about Sergeant Barnes’ attempts at wooing Sir.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked. “Go right ahead. Can’t be any worse than any of the other advice I’ve gotten.” Seriously, Clint had even suggested truth serum, like that wasn’t the worst idea ever suggested.

“Sir is an extremely picky eater,” JARVIS explained. “He does not enjoy cooked tomatoes, ricotta cheese, or the texture of oatmeal.”

…All of which had been in at least one of the meals he’d prepared for Tony.

“Fuck.”

JARVIS wryly said, “Indeed.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“You requested that I remain inactive on your floor while you were recovering. But you’re in Sergeant Wilson’s quarters at the moment so I may share my expertise.”

He had said that, hadn’t he? It had been in the early days when he was still having trouble remembering what he’d said moments earlier, but he had a vague recollection of being overwhelmed by the idea of constant monitoring and asking if JARVIS could be turned off.

“Wow, way to go, Barnes,” Sam commented, hiding a grin behind his hand.

“Fuck,” he said again, more emphatically. “Best tool at my disposal and I’m not even using it. JARVIS, I bet you could tell me all sorts of things about Tony.”

He got the impression that if the AI could sniff, he would have. “I would not dare to air Sir’s ‘dirty laundry’ so to speak.”

“No, no,” Bucky said, waving his metal hand. The hand made a concerning grinding sound and he frowned. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He’d probably need to ask someone to take a look at it. Sam was capable of performing basic maintenance, and Bucky trusted him not to sabotage the arm, but anything worse and he’d have to go ask Tony about it.

“Not what I meant,” he continued. “Just that you could tell me what Tony likes and doesn’t like. Uh, how do I turn you back on in my floor?”

“Your request is sufficient,” JARVIS said.

“Great. I’ll meet you up there in a bit. We’re gonna make something so incredible Tony will have to fall in love with me.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Sam said, kicking his feet up onto the newly vacated spot on the couch now that Bucky was standing. “I’m going to see if I can find reasonably priced tickets to the ballet.”

Bucky blinked. “I think you’re gonna have worse luck than me.”

Sam threw a shoe at him.

~

On JARVIS’ advice, he baked blueberry muffins because those were apparently Tony’s favorite fruit. Bucky didn’t really understand it. Frankly, he thought blueberries were almost as bad as bananas—nasty, taste-changing fruit that they were—but if Tony loved them, then he would be willing to have them in his kitchen for as long as it took to bake the muffins. Fortunately, he was just as good a baker as he was a cook, so it was a breeze to whip up a delicious batch that had him grateful he couldn’t get salmonella from the mix.

Unfortunately, Tony hated the muffins. Or that’s what Bucky gathered when he went to pick the plate up, hoping that it would be empty for the first time, and found it just as untouched as everything else had been.

“What the fuck, JARVIS?” he complained. “You said he liked blueberries.”

“I don’t know, Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS said, sounding as baffled as Bucky felt. “Sir has always appreciated them.”

That, Bucky reflected later that night, was possibly to be expected. For all that JARVIS had the inhuman ability to remember literally everything he’d ever seen or heard, he was still just a program. He couldn’t necessarily extrapolate about preferences or tastes. For all either of them knew, Tony did like blueberries but didn’t like muffins or something. It didn’t really explain why JARVIS knew that Tony didn’t like cooked tomatoes, but maybe that could be explained by Tony mentioning it out loud and the other stuff, JARVIS had had to figure out on his own.

He sat up in bed, thinking about it. Maybe that was it: Tony didn’t like muffins. But there had to be other recipes out there that used blueberries that Tony would like. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d come across a blueberry cupcake with brown butter frosting recipe earlier that day. And Bucky didn’t know anyone who could say no to his brown butter. He was incredible at it, and that was being modest. Just the other day, Thor had declared the brown butter sauce he’d made for their chicken to be worthy of an Asgardian feast. Thor was a god. He probably knew things like that.

“JARVIS, you up?” he asked into the dark room.

“Always, Sergeant Barnes.”

“You don’t gotta keep callin’ me that. Bucky’s my name. I’d rather answer to that.”

“Very well, Bucky.”

“Could you pull up some other recipes with blueberries in the flavor profile please? Filter out anything that has something Tony doesn’t like and recipes similar enough to each other that they could be repeats, uh, let’s say anything with a higher than 85% similarity.”

When JARVIS was finished compiling his list, there was a lot less than what Bucky had hoped for, but it was still something he could work with. He looked through the list: cupcakes, pancakes, cookies, more than a few salads, something called a Panzanella. He starred the ones he thought would catch Tony’s interest the most, putting the others aside to possibly try later down the road. Content with his plan, he laid back down, falling asleep within seconds of his head hitting the pillow.

~

None of it worked. Despite his supposed love for blueberries, Tony continued to turn away everything Bucky made for him. So he branched out, trying other foods that JARVIS said Tony was fond of. Nothing came back with more than a couple bites taken out of it and Tony had taken to giving him worried looks every time he appeared at the workshop door with another plate. Bucky was starting to lose hope that he was ever going to woo Tony with food and that was… not great.

Traditional dates were pretty close to impossible. Despite his rapid recovery in the tower, going outside was still too frightening with the crowds of New York, the inability to pick out threats around him, and the lack of sightlines all driving Bucky back inside and to the highest floors of the tower where he could look out over everything.

And as for anything else, well, Bucky was an ex-brainwashed assassin with no money to his name and only half the social skills he used to have (Sam said he had more than he thought but arguing with Sam wasn’t like trying to get someone to like him). He didn’t have much else to offer other than making food and giving Tony a project to work on. The first wasn’t going well and the second made Bucky feel too much like he was taking advantage of Tony to use more than once or twice.

Disheartened, he made his way up to Natalia’s floor to ask her for advice. She and Tony got along almost as well as she got along with Clint. Maybe she would have insights that JARVIS wasn’t able to offer. As he neared her room, though, he realized that she wasn’t alone.

“—to kill me,” someone—Tony, Bucky realized almost immediately—was saying. He stiffened. Who was trying to kill Tony? Bucky would kill them first! Was murder a good way to woo Tony?

“котенок,” Natalia said patiently, “he’s not trying to kill you.”

“You don’t know that!” Tony exclaimed wildly. He sounded like he was pacing. “He could be! He keeps bringing me things everyone knows I won’t eat.”

And now Natalia sounded amused as she said, “Antoshka, I don’t think he’d be trying to feed you if he wanted to kill you. It’s more likely an honest mistake.”

“It could be poison.”

“It’s not poison.”

“You don’t know that. You haven’t tried any of it.”

“It’s not poison because that’s more my style than it is James’.”

Oh, they were talking about him. Tony thought Bucky was trying to kill him. “Fuck,” he said mournfully, leaning up against the wall. No wonder Tony wouldn’t touch any of the food he made for him.

“Well, I don’t see why else he’s bringing me food!” Tony said.

“Really? Not a single reason?”

“It’s food I won’t eat! He clearly doesn’t like me or he’d be bringing me actual food I like.”

“Does he know why you won’t eat it?”

“No, but why does that matter?”

“Tony, darling, have you ever once informed him that you have a sensory processing disorder and you won’t eat a lot of cooked foods because you can’t handle the texture?”

Bucky straightened back up. Tony has a what? He’d never even heard of that before. Why didn’t JARVIS say something? He thought back to when he’d been building the list of blueberry foods and how he’d wondered if JARVIS didn’t necessarily know about the pattern for Tony’s likes and dislikes in his food. Maybe JARVIS hadn’t known about Tony’s disorder, so he hadn’t known to tell Bucky about it. That made the most amount of sense to him though he couldn’t imagine why Tony had never told his AI about his disorder.

“Why would I tell him that?” Tony asks, sounding confused.

He could just picture Natalia shaking her head as she said, “Oh, Antoshka.”

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Armed with his new knowledge, Bucky crept away from the door, already planning out new meals to bring to Tony.

~

That very night, he went downstairs with a bowl of salad. It had nuts to provide a small amount of protein, though he’d also put some baked chicken in a Tupperware as well, in case that was something Tony could eat. Tony’s music was playing at a manageable volume by the time he got to the workshop, likely because he was drafting plans for some sort of irrigation system, rather than any sort of consideration for Bucky.

Tony caught sight of him before he got the doors open. Bucky watched as his face fell for a moment before he plastered on a bright, fake smile. Hydra’s programming was still too ingrained in him to do anything as obvious as wince, but he still felt a twinge of shame. Why hadn’t he thought to ask Tony what he would like to eat instead of relying on his own preferences?

“Uh,” he said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. In his other hand, he held up the Tupperware with the salad bowl on top of it. “I brought you some dinner. It’s just a salad, but I included some baked chicken on the side if you want that. I hope it’s something you like.”

Tony blinked at him. “What?”

“I—okay, I’m just gonna come right out and say it. I overheard you and Natalia earlier. I didn’t know you couldn’t eat anything I was making for you. I wasn’t trying to poison you or anything, just thought you might like some food since you’re down here all the time. Sorry for, you know, eavesdropping and making you think I didn’t like you.”

A cautious smile spread across Tony’s face. “You could have asked JARVIS,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, I did, but I guess he didn’t know you don’t like cooked foods.”

“What?” Tony cocked his head to the side. “No, he should know that.” He spun around in his chair, waving the glowing blue drafts of the irrigation system aside in favor of pulling up JARVIS’ bright golden code. It was a beautiful display, and Bucky found himself moving closer, mesmerized by the sight. He had no idea JARVIS’ code was so complex.

“J, buddy, what happened to your code?” Tony murmured. He reached out a hand, groping for Bucky’s shirt to tug him closer. “Gimme food.”

“So you like salad?” Bucky asked, relieved that he’d finally found something.

“And baked chicken,” Tony added. “But it has to be baked. Otherwise, the texture’s too rubbery for me.”

“I can do that,” he promised. “Do you like breading or marinade with the baked chicken?”

“Marinade, yes. Breading, no.”

“Okay. I’ll remember that.”

Tony paused in tearing through JARVIS’ code to give him a small, genuine smile that made Bucky’s heart light up. He returned the smile, which grew bigger when Tony’s gaze darted down to his lips, snagging there as though caught by the sight. He knew he had a nice mouth; he’d been told that plenty of times back in the forties.

“I have another confession to make,” he said once Tony’s attention returned to the code.

“Uh-huh,” Tony said distractedly.

“I was—”

“There you are!” Tony exclaimed. “J, who made those changes to lines 894 through 1036 in your code?”

JARVIS immediately said, “The last time those lines were accessed was in 2008 by Obadiah Stane.”

Tony’s face fell. “Oh.”

It took Bucky a moment remember who Obadiah Stane was. He’d appeared in one of Bucky’s mission files as the Winter Soldier. Back during the nineties, following Tony’s parents deaths, Tony had been planning on shutting down SI’s weapons manufacturing division. Hydra, who’d been buying black market weapons from Stane for years by that time, had ordered the Winter Soldier to assassinate Tony to give Stane complete control of the company. But before he’d been able to complete his mission, Stane had convinced Tony to see “reason” and Bucky had been put back in cryo. That unfulfilled mission had been one of the reasons he’d been so hesitant to move into the tower before his programming had been completely removed. Steve had tried to push for the move anyway, but before either of them could successfully argue the point, Tony had put out a call to the world’s top experts on brainwashing and three whirlwind weeks later, Bucky’s mind was programming-free. And just like that, without even meeting the guy, Bucky had developed a crush on one Tony Stark.

“Sorry, doll,” he said, dropping a hand to Tony’s shoulder and squeezing it gently.

Tony sighed frustratedly. “Every time I think I’ve taken care of everything Obie fucked up, I find something else he’s done. He was probably hoping I’d starve to death or something without anyone making food to my exacting specifications, that asshole.”

“He sounds pretty terrible,” Bucky agreed.

“J, are you able to access the last backup on those lines to restore them?” Tony asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, let’s get those fixed, and uh—”

“And we’ll go out for dinner,” Bucky interrupted.

“Huh?” Tony asked, turning to look at him.

“Seems I owe you an apology and I figure taking you out for dinner is a little nicer than a salad. ‘Sides, if I take you out, I’ll have a better understanding of what you like to eat.”

“Careful there, Buckaroo, or I’ll start thinking this is supposed to be a date.”

Bucky would probably never know what possessed him to firmly say, “Yeah, that’s exactly what it’s supposed to be.” He certainly hadn’t planned to. He really had been planning on their dinner being a way to figure out what Tony liked so he could make it himself and continue with his wooing process from there, hopefully slowly easing Tony into believing that Bucky really did like him and wasn’t trying to poison him.

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “That wasn’t supposed to come out like that.”

Tony stared at him, then abruptly said, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That this is supposed to be a date.”

He could deny it and go back to his original plan. He’d probably even be able to pull off a lie like that. But there was a hopeful look in Tony’s eyes that stopped him from denying anything.

“You didn’t even know that I liked you until five minutes ago,” he pointed out cautiously.

Tony scoffed. “What, like you’ve never liked someone who hated you.”

“Uh, no. I’ve never done that.”

“Really?”

“Never.”

“Huh.”

“Are you… are you saying that you do like me?” Bucky asked.

“Well, yeah. You never mind that half of my engineering babble goes over your head and you bring me food even if you didn’t know it wasn’t something I could eat and you’re really fucking gorgeous when you’ve showered and your hair isn’t falling in greasy clumps around your face.”

“Look who’s talking,” Bucky said amusedly, reaching out to run his fingers through Tony’s hair, matted down with machine oil. Even filthy, he could feel how soft it would be when it was clean. Tony leaned into his hand, humming happily.

“So is that a yes on this being a date, Bucky babe?” Tony asked. “Cause I’ll be honest, I’m not usually left hanging.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding. “It’s a date.”

Tony grinned and turned his head just enough to kiss the inside of Bucky’s wrist, making Bucky shiver. “Let me get cleaned up.”

“You want me to join you?”

Tony winked at him. “Next time, honey.”

[oceanera12]

Star Wars Pizza AU

You read that right. In my defense, I saw a post about someone ordering pizza and their order was number 66. I decided to read the comments for a laugh. And then my brain exploded. Whoops.

Dominos (aka the Clones)

The franchise was technically bought by the owner of Little Senators years ago, but no one knows about that except the original owners (*cough cough* The Kamino family *cough cough*) who pretend they’re still in charge for a large hunk of money (ILLEGALLY)

Their best store (the one that makes the most money and has the best reviews) is in the city named after the Kamino’s (Kamino) and is run and operated by a different family, the “Fetts” (and no one is sure how it is legal, but so far no one’s gotten sued so...)

It’s a joke that the “Fetts” will run out of workers at some point but so far it hasn’t happened.

Also, weirdly enough, all of the employees are boys and look a lot alike

The manager’s name is Cody. He’s very strict on the dress code, very fair to the customers, and loves his job.

His brother, Fox, manages another Dominos across town and the two of them will often team up on especially large orders and hold a (friendly) yearly competition between the two stores (Cody’s team has won the last three years, something he will bring up whenever he can)

They have another brother, Wolffe, who manages another store as well, but he’s across the country so they don’t see him as much.

All three were taught how to make pizza, run the storefront, etc, by their grandfather (Ninety-Nine), who passed away a few years back. Their grandfather was one of the original managers during the franchises’ early years

Rex is the younger brother of Cody and acts as an assistant manager to him. Rex hopes to be promoted one day but he’s happy where he is right now.

Boil and Waxer (the cousins) are the best chefs they have. The kitchen is filled with bickering and teasing with flying dough and toppings but everything comes out perfectly (somehow).

Kix and Jesse are the head delivery boys. They are in charge of training the newbies and take the furthest orders (Jesse is known to run the speed limit at one point going 90 down a 35. Kix knows the city like the back of his hand and knows all the short cuts)

Nicknamed, “The Domino Squad” (aka, the thing that started this AU idea), is Fives, Echo, Hevy, Droidbait, and Cutup. (Fives and Echo are twins, with Droidbait as a little bro while Hevy and Cutup are cousins of theirs. All are nephews to Rex and Cody) Cody and Rex quickly learned the five of them could handle the day shift all by themselves. (hence the nickname) 

Fives is excellent on the front end, taking orders and answering the phone with a friendly smile and pleasant attitude.

Echo is the best on the register, his mind able to add up the order and give back change very quickly and efficiently. He also keeps the orders straight and has never given anyone the wrong slip/pizza.

Hevy can run the kitchen on a busy shift with help from Cutup (who doubles as a janitor when needed).

Droidbait is one of their fastest delivery boys and manages to rack in a lot on tips and good reviews.

Hadcase and Tup are also delivery boys, with Dogma helping in the kitchen. Tup is also trained on register and is quite good at it.

The advertising team is nicknamed “The Bad Batch” because why would anyone in their family go into advertising over pizza making? (Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Crosshair would, apparently)

Pizza Hutt (aka bounty hunters and scoundrels) 

Jabba is the owner (who else would it be)

Their best store is in the town of Tatooine, which is weird given how hot the climate is.

The manager is this really creepy guy named Bib Fortuna.

Employee of the month (most of the time) is the delivery boy Boba Fett (who deserted from Domino’s after his dad died in a car accident or something). Bobba is known for always delivering on time and with the food still hot. He’s also really good at getting extra on his tips.

The employees come and go on a regular basis, some staying for several years, others only a few days. Jabba is very particular about his place and if he doesn’t like the worker or how someone is doing something, he’ll fire them. Usually with no notice.

On the plus side, Jabba is known to give some pretty good bonus’ if you do a really good job.

Every once in a while, the company offers a special topping. No one is a hundred percent sure what it is but it tastes really good so it sells well. (Don’t ask me what it is)

The employees are not allowed to interact or affliate themselves with any of the other pizza places or Jabba will fire them. He’s very jealous of his company and will not risk losing his secret recipies (hence why only a few people actually know it)

Han and Chewy work there for summer jobs.

Little Senators (later Little Empire-- aka Palpatine and pals)

Palpatine “bought” the franchise years ago (he persuaded the previous owner to basically give it to him with some blackmail and a few other shady business moves, but hey. If no one can trace them, it never happened)

Their best store is in Coruscant (which also happens to be one of the biggest cities in the country) and are considered one of the largest franchises in pizza (if not the largest)

There are two managers that stand above the rest: Dooku and Padme.

Dooku runs the southern Coruscant Little Senators while Padme runs the one in the little off branch city of Naboo. Neither like the other one.

Dooku’s store is known to deliver on time and never mix up orders. The actual pizza’s taste fine, but they are a little haphazardly thrown together.

Padme’s store is known for having the “better tasting” pizza and their food is always hot. If the order is mixed up, they do full refunds and deliver the proper order with no charge.

Dooku’s store is one of the first experimenting with robotic help at the counter and in the kitchen. It goes... well enough.

Padme’s assistant manager is Bail Organa and her best employee is her daughter, Leia Amidala.

When Palpatine brings out the new name (Little Empire), Dooku fully supports it and continues under the franchise.

Padme doesn’t support it or the new company regulations (”These new rules and regulations are tyranny!”) and quits (along with Bail) to start their own pizza place (it’s like a local family joint, not a franchise but who knows). They call it “Pizza Rebel”.

Papa Yoda’s (aka the Jedi)

I can’t stop laughing at the name of this one, help

Yoda is the owner (duh) and most of the employees believe he’s at least a hundred and are shocked he’s still alive. And working. He’s short, walks around with a wooden spoon and will whack anyone who tries to eat the toppings. And yes, he is still involved in the kitchen (and hasn’t retired)

He taught Dooku all about the business of making and selling pizza’s. Dooku grew in skill and then one day left the company without a word. A few years later he showed up as a manager in Little Senators. Ever since then, Papa Yoda’s has been struggling to stay a float.

Some managers worth mentioning: Mace Windu, Obi-Wan, Plo Koon, and Shaak Ti.

Obi-Wan runs the store in Naboo, which had been run by his teacher, Qui-Gon Jinn until his sudden death several years ago. He is the youngest employee made into manager to date. His assistant manager is Anakin Skywalker, who really wants his own store but Yoda thinks he’s not quite ready (which he isn’t). Their best employee is Ahsoka Tano, who can do it all (cook, deliver, and serve) followed closely behind by Luke Amidala (who Anakin claims he’s not related to, but everyone knows otherwise)

(Anakin has been secretly married to Padme of Little Senators but when she leaves the company there’s not much of a reason to keep it a secret. Turns out it really wasn’t a secret because everyone in the store knew-- they also knew about Luke and Leia, apparently)

Mace Windu runs his store alone, but runs it efficiently. The closest thing he has to an assistant manager is his head cook, Deba Billaba. Caleb Dume (Kanan Jarrus) is their best delivery boy who has recently decided to start training some of the newbies (Sabine Wren, Ezra Bridger, Garazeb Orrelios). The front end is run by Hera Syndulla (who may or may not be dating Caleb, it’s a running bet).

Plo Koon and Shaak Ti run their store together (as business partners that’s it) and are known to treat their employees, customers, and their rivals with consideration and kindness. They have a shop very close to Wolffe’s Dominos, which does cause some contention at low points but for the most part, they get along fine. (Plo and Shaak Ti absolutely love the family dynamic between Wolffe’s “pack” of employees). The two will often help Wolffe and his crew in outside business affairs (finding open apartments for employees, helping buy a first car, etc) and they will do the same for the two managers. Most people don’t get how Dominos and Papa Yoda’s are both still open because of this relationship, but they are. (In the future, someone finally figured out Dominos had some legal issues in it’s ownership and was forced to merge with Little Empire or shut down. Wolffe chose to shut down and he and his pack were immediately offered jobs at Papa Yoda’s. They accepted.)

Yoda actually manages a store as well. It’s the “first” one he ever opened and he uses it as a training grounds of sorts for future managers and other job positions. He’s patient, but strict and will often speak in riddles which is annoying to no end. He finds it a great way to weed out the ones that don’t want to be there, and the ones that do.

Order #66 has been banned as an order number. The “why” is never to be spoken of ever again and all the newbies are confused and will ask, but no one will tell them because “they don’t talk about it”

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Z 219

So let me just recap the last twenty episodes.  Gohan went to high school, and he didn’t want anyone to know about his super powers, so he invented a superhero persona to disguise himself.   Videl learned his secret, and blackmailed him into entering the 25th Tenkaichi Budokai, because she also learned that he was the son of former Budokai champion Son Goku.    Videl is, of course, the daughter of former Budokai champion Mr. Satan, so she thinks it would be a dream match to fight Gohan, but she has no idea how much stronger Gohan is.   

Overhearing Gohan talking about the tournament, Vegeta invited himself to the competition, just so he can Gohan could have a real competition instead of Gohan just steamrolling the others.   Then Goku decided to join in, cashing in his one day to return to the living world.    And before you knew it, we had this feel-good reunion on our hands, with most of the Z-Fighters and their friends having a fun time.   

Except the Surpreme Kai is also in the tournament, as he and his sidekick Kibito have entered undercover, apparently for reasons having to do with two other entrants, Yamu and Spopovitch.    As far as anyone can tell, Y&S were once ordinary humans, but they’ve been drastically changed, and they seem to have some evil agenda for the tournament.   

And that brings us to this episode, the finale of the “World Tournament Saga,” as Funimation reckoned the story arcs back in 2001.    The irony is that the past ten episodes have been all about this tournament, but it’s actually been nothing but a sideshow.    The real story unfolds here, with Kibito facing Gohan in the fourth match of the first round.    Kibito just wants Gohan to turn Super Saiyan, and the Supreme Kai explains that this is because he expects Yamu and Spopovitch to assault Gohan.     Gohan could easily fight those two off, but Shin plans to psychically restrain Gohan, allowing Yamu and Spopes to do their business.    The point of all this, as we’ll see later, is that the Supreme Kai wants to follow Yamu and Spopovitch back to their boss.     

I say all of this because Episodes 200-219 are sort of a lull in DBZ.   I don’t know if everyone sees it that way, or maybe it’s just me, but it is tempting for me to write this part off as kind of boring.    Mostly, I look back on it fondly because I was excitedly buying these episodes on VHS tapes in the summer of ‘01, because I really wanted to know what happened next.    I don’t know why I’m so nostalgic for those days.    I felt kind of pathetic at the time: this huge nerd, fresh out of college, sitting alone in his apartment watching anime tapes.   A couple of liveblog posts ago, I used a joke that I’ve been sitting on for 18 years because I had no one I could share it with.   This batch of episodes is a little lower-energy than the rest, but they’re still special to me, and they do carry a heapin’ helpin’ of plot, even if it looks like it’s just the gang sort of whiling away an afternoon.  

Sometimes you can just do that, you know?    You can blow a day doing something fun instead of something that “keeps the plot moving”, and it’s not wasted time.   I don’t regret those nights watching these episodes on tape over a glass of milk and a bag of white chocolate macadamia nut cookies.   If anything, I regret that I might have ever regretted it.    Sometimes you just gotta chill out.   DBZ knows it, and we should know it too.   

Anyway, Gohan’s agreed to Kibito’s request that he turn Super Saiyan, but he decides to up the ante and offers to turn into a Super Saiyan that has advanced beyond a Super Saiyan by further overcoming the Super Saiyan wall that separates Super Saiyans from Ascended Ultra Super Saiyans who have surpassed the Super Saiyan.    In case you’re wondering, the term “Super Saiyan 2″ still hasn’t been coined yet.   It can’t happen soon enough.

When I watched these episodes the first time, I didn’t understand the distinction between SSJ1 and SSJ2, mainly because the show hardly bothered to distinguish them as separate forms.   I just assumed that Gohan powered up when he beat Cell, but he hadn’t actually transformed into something other than what he was when he first started fighting him.   You can tell the difference between SSJ1 and SSJ2, but it’s kind of tricky, and it helps to have a side by side comparison.    With Kid Gohan, it’s pretty easy, because you see him in both forms for several episodes, and he switches back and forth a couple of times.   

With High School Gohan, good luck, because his hairstyle looks about the same either way.

Here he is in Super Saiyan 1, back in Episode 205.   

And here he is again in Episode 200.   Not much of a difference.    Really, the only reason I think I can tell is because of context clues in the story.   Gohan only transformed in #200 to disguise himself, so why waste energy using his strongest form just to clobber bank robbers?    In #205, he was just training, and while he might have eventually worked his way up to training in SSJ2, Episode 205 was his very first day of whipping himself into shape, so it doesn’t seem likely.    And in Episode 210, I assume he went to SSJ2 because he offered to do it.     Why bring it up at all if he wasn’t planning to use the form?

Everyone’s amazed, especially Videl and Gohan’s other friends, who now realize that Gohan was the “Golden Warrior” and Great Saiyaman.   But Vegeta’s not impressed, becuase he senses that Gohan is actually weaker now than he was when he defeated Cell seven years ago.   

Lines like this are evidence that Vegeta must have mastered the SSJ2 transformation himself by this point.   I’ve seen this hotly debated in the fandom, since we really have no direct proof, but Vegeta was certain that he could beat Gohan here, and I don’t see how he could believe that unless he managed to replicate the power Gohan used to beat Cell.    Make no mistake, Gohan may be weaker than he was in Episode 192, but that’s still way, way stronger than almost everyone else here.   

The live crowd starts to figure out that Gohan must have something to do with those guys from the Cell Games, which is exactly why Gohan asked everyone not to transform at this event.  

Meanwhile, Yamu and Spopovitch ready some weird device and they prepare to go into action.    As they do...

The Supreme Kai uses some sort of power to immobilize him long enough to allow Y&S to do their thing.   

I’m not really sure how these two expected this to go.    They were scouting the tournament for strong powers, but did they really think Spopovitch would be strong enough to restrain such a person all by himself?    Shouldn’t they be a little suspicious at how easy this is?    They don’t know that the Kai is helping them right now, but you’d think it would occur to them.     In any event, they jab Gohan with some sort of bottle, and it sucks the ki energy right out of his body.  

Krillin tries to make the save, but Piccolo stops him because this is too important.  I do like that Krillin is the one to try to jump in.   He’s been riding with that kid for years, and he’s just used to having Gohan’s back.   You might as well as a fish to give up swimming.   

Videl tries to jump in too, but Goku stops her.    She’s pretty upset about it...

But Goku assures her that his son can survive this.    He doesn’t know what’s going on, and he may not entirely trust the Supreme Kai, but he trusts his son’s toughness.     There is something I really like about Goku and Videl’s interactions.    They barely appear together, but there’s a lot of untapped potential there.    For Videl, Gohan is this magical boy, a pure cinammon roll who can do wonderful things and sweep her off her feet.     But his dad is this Legendary Super Saiyan who grew up in the woods and pees wherever he wants.   Goku embodies a lot of the stuff Gohan is trying to hide from her, and that must surely intrigue and frighten Videl.

Cool shot of Mighty Mask (Goten and Trunks) watching this play out from the nosebleed seats.    I’m not sure why they don’t jump in.   I guess they figure if the adults aren’t getting involved then they shouldn’t either, but that seems contrary to what they’ve been doing up to now.

Then Yamu announces that their doohickey is full, so they can stop now.   Mission accomplished, whatever that was.

Kibito just stands there like a goof.   I guess they have no idea what he’s all about, so they must think he’s too scared to intervene.    They did threaten to kill anyone who got in their way, but it’s strange that they came here to steal ki from powerful fighters, and never considered that they might meet people stronger than themselves.

Spopovitch even remarks on how easy this was.    Seriously, they filled that whole bottle after attacking just one guy.    You’d think that would make them a little wary, but no.

Then they just fly away.   The Supreme Kai waits for them to get a decent head start, then he announces that he’s going to follow them, and he asks the Z-Fighters to join him if they wish.   

Goku’s in, because he wants to know what’s happening, and he’s not worried about Gohan, since he survived, just as the Kai promised, and Kibito’s going to stay behind and heal him, so they must be on the level.

Yeah, Gohan’s alive, but he looks to be in pretty bad shape.   See, this is exactly the skin color Yamu and Spopovitch have all the time, and I’m pretty sure that’s meant to indicate how physically messed up they are.   But Turles looked like this all through Movie 3, with no explanation given.   Was the Tree of Might’s fruit doing that to him?   Who knows?

Videl asks Gohan to shake it off.    I don’t think Taylor Swift songs can fix what’s wrong with Gohan right now, but I’m betting that usually perks him right up.   

Piccolo and Krillin are going to go with Goku, but Vegeta hates this idea, because their match is next, and Vegeta wants to fight Goku above all other business.    Whatever the Supreme Kai is up to, it could waste Goku’s whole day, and they might never get a chance to have their fight.  

So ultimately, Vegeta joins the Supreme Kai, since the only way he can ensure he gets his fight with Goku is by sticking close to him and making sure this situation gets resolved in timely manner.  

And 18′s staying behind, because the Tournament has a cash prize but the Supreme Kai is doing this pro bono.   

She also tells Krillin to bug out if things get too rough.   I’m pretty sure Krillin’s been fighting above his class for decades now, so it’s a little late for that.   18 knows that, but she’s gotta say it anyway.

So everyone leaves, and Kibito heals Gohan in the ring, promising a full explanation later.   

Then Videl asks if she can join Gohan and Kibito.   Gohan isn’t thrilled with that idea, but she insists,so they leave together.

Mr. Satan hates that, but he can’t really do anything about it.    Also, this is the first time he’s seen Videl fly, which is a shock.

Chi-Chi is worried.   I’m not sure why everyone in the stands is all beat up.   Maybe Chi-Chi did that while she was worried about Gohan earlier.    Tbh, I only took this screencap because I like Chi-Chi’s mussed-up hair.  

So... what about the tournament?    What about the tournament?   This is kind of a shame, really, because when I first watched these episodes, I just naturally assumed they were really going through with this event, and in a few episodes we were really going to see Goku fight Vegeta in a Budokai match.   But in hindsight, the 25th Budokai looked like a real clusterfuck of a tournament.   16 participants, many of them hopelessly outclassed, and the brackets were completely screwed up.    Was anyone really looking forward to seeing Yamu fight Goten and Trunks in a Might Mask costume?   The reality is that this tournament really was never meant to happen.  

Far away, the Z-Fighters catch up to the Supreme Kai, and he starts filling them in on the plot.    Long ago, there was an evil wizard--or “Madoshi”-- named Bibidi, who “accidentally conjured up” a monster.    Okay, that’s interesting, because the dub always said that Bibidi created Majin Buu, but I’ve seen other sources state that Buu existed long before Bibidi hooked up with him.    So that explains that.   

All Buu ever did was wreck shit, and he destroyed hundreds of inhabited worlds, which sounds kind of nostalgic to Vegeta, since the Saiyans basically did the same thing in the day...

But the Kai can hear his thoughts, and he quickly points out that Buu is far beyond the power of the Saiyan species.  Frieza killed nearly all of the Saiyans in one attack, and the four Supreme Kais could have killed Frieza in one blow, but Buu killed the other Supreme Kais, which is why Shin is the only one left.  

The problem with Majin Buu was that even Bibidi had trouble handling the guy, so he would store him in a magic ball from time to time.    I’m not quite sure how that worked, but I assume Bibidi would unleash Buu on a planet, then put him into storage before heading off to the next target.   

So this is a pretty big infodump.  It takes up half of this episode and half of the next one.    One thing I like about how this is executed is that we keep shifting from one group of characters to another.   It’s a little thing, but it keeps the scene from getting stale.   Also, Shin and Kibito are just telling the same story, so it’s not like we lose anything this way.  

So Shin managed to kill Bibidi while Buu was sealed up, and that ended the Buu crisis, except they never actually disposed of Majin Buu.    The thought was that there was no need, since only Bibidi had the ability to free Buu from his seal, and life on Earth was primitive and undeveloped, so this planet seemed like a good place to leave Buu.    They put the ball somewhere that Earthlings would likely never go to, and called it good.  

That’s a bit of a plot hole, though, because later, a major plot point will be that Buu might end up getting released prematurely, which implies that the magic ball is a lot easier to open than this, even without a wizard.   But we’ll get into that later.

As it turns out, the Supreme Kai recently discovered that Bibidi had a son, Babidi, who is just as evil as his dad, and has resolved to break the seal and unleash Majin Buu all over again.   

I have seen sources that say Babidi wasn’t actually the flesh-and-blood offspring of Bibidi, but actually a sort of magical duplicate of Bibidi, one that survived Babidi’s death and vowed to carry on where the original left off.   Sort of like how Piccolo Junior began as a virtual copy of King Piccolo, but gradually developed into a distinct being.   I suppose that’s more plausible than Bibidi getting laid, but otherwise, I don’t know that it really changes the story at all.

So Babidi wants to release Majin Buu, and he’s apparently getting close to reaching that goal.   So what does that have to do with Yamu and Spopovitch, and their mission to collect Gohan’s energy?   Well, that part has to wait for the next episode.   

And that’s the World Tournament Saga.   Next up is Babidi, and he’s a real treat.  

[perfectlyrose]

43, paladins.

sweet dreams are made of this

Hunk’s coping mechanisms wake Pidge up at three in the morning. She decides to make it everyone’s problem.

Paladins, some sort of college AU

From the prompt: “Frost the damn cupcakes.”

[ AO3 ]

“Hunk? What are you doing out here?” Pidge asked, rubbing her eyes. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Couldn’t sleep. Too stressed,” he answered, not looking up from whatever he was stirring.

“Exams aren’t for two weeks,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

“Exactly! They’re close! I’m not ready yet.”

“So you’re baking at three AM on a Thursday night because you’re stressed about exams.”

“Baking calms me down. And it’s technically Friday morning now,” he said.

“Whatever.” She flopped down on the couch and started texting their friends. If she had to deal with Hunk having a nervous breakdown, so did they.

She sent a group message to Lance, Keith, Shiro, and Allura.

Text from Pidge [3:09 AM]: Hunk has officially lost it. I don’t think anyone bet on exam stress getting to him first.

Text from Keith [3:10 AM]: my money was on lance

Text from Allura [3:11 AM]: Mine was as well. Sorry, Lance.

Text from Shiro [3:11 AM]: What’s wrong with Hunk?

Text from Pidge [3:12 AM]: He is baking. at three in the morning. with all the lights on.

Text from Pidge [3:12 AM]: i have a class in the morning

Text from Lance [3:15 AM]: i’m hurt, you guys. mortally wounded.

Text from Keith [3:15 AM]: i’m putting it on record that lance will be the second one to have a breakdown

Text from Lance [3:16 AM]: also, it is the middle of the night. why is this our problem.

Text from Pidge [3:18 AM]: tell that to the big guy in my kitchen.

Text from Pidge [3:19 AM]: also, since no one won the bet and i’m keeping book on this one, you all better get your asses over here asap

Text from Allura [3:20 AM]: ???

Text from Pidge [3:21 AM]: unless all of you come get your money from me within the next hour, i’m keeping it as compensation for my roommate being the one to break first

Text from Lance [3:22 AM]: that’s not fair

Text from Pidge [3:22 AM]: life’s not fair. get over it.

Text from Pidge [3:24 AM]: everyone has to be here for anyone to get their money

Text from Shiro [3:25 AM]: I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.

Text from Lance [3:27 AM]: same. probably more like twenty tho

Text from Allura [3:28 AM]: Can you pick me up on your way?

Text from Shiro [3:29 AM]: Was that directed at me or Lance?

Text from Keith [3:29 AM]: do we get to eat whatever hunk is baking? because i’m only coming if it’s chocolate

Text from Allura [3:30 AM]: Lance. My apartment is not on your way to Pidge and Hunk’s place, Shiro.

Text from Pidge [3:30 AM]: I’ll drizzle chocolate syrup on it for you if it’s not. Just get over here.

Text from Lance [3:31 AM]: yeah sure. i’ll text you when i’m outside, allura

Text from Keith [3:33 AM]: not the same

Text from Lance [3:34 AM]: if you keep me from getting my twenty bucks back we’re going to have a problem

Text from Pidge [3:35 AM]: you’re lucky you even have a chance of getting it back since you bet on me. I’m tempted to keep it just for that.

Text from Lance [3:35 AM]: you wouldn’t

Text from Allura [3:36 AM]: She would.

Text from Pidge [3:36 AM]: I would.

Text from Lance [3:37 AM]: you all suck

Pidge looked up from her phone to see what Hunk was doing. “What are you making anyways?”

“Cupcakes. Baking and frosting should keep me busy for a while,” he said, sliding a tray into the oven.

“Are they chocolate by any chance?”

“They are,” he confirmed.

“Cool.”

Text from Pidge [3:40 AM]: chocolate is a go

Text from Keith [3:40 AM]: i’ll be there in five

Text from Pidge [3:41 AM]: door’s unlocked. don’t knock.

Pidge tossed her phone onto the other couch cushion and got up to unlock the door.

“Uhh, Pidge? Are you going somewhere?” Hunk asked.

“No, but everyone else is coming over here and I don’t want to have to deal with getting up to let them all in individually.”

“Why are they coming over here?”

“To distract you from stressing out too much, to eat your cupcakes, and because I blackmailed them. Mostly in that order, I think,” she said.

“Good thing I made a double batch.”

“Keith’s going to inhale at least three,” Pidge predicted. “Lance might too.”

Hunk’s answer was cut off by the door swinging open.

Keith walked in and nodded to both of them in lieu of a verbal greeting before claiming a spot on the couch. Besides his hair being slightly messier than usual, it looked like he hadn’t even tried to go to bed yet.

Shiro arrived next, somehow still looking Garrison-sharp at 3:48 AM.

“Smells good, Hunk,” he said, giving him a smile before joining Keith on the couch.

“He’s the only one here because you told them I was stressed, isn’t he?” Hunk asked Pidge in a stage whisper.

“I’m here for the chocolate,” Keith offered.

“You can have the first cupcake,” Hunk decided.

Keith made a half-hearted celebratory gesture.

They all heard Allura and Lance before the door opened.

“I’m just saying, why would you bet on me to have the nervous breakdown? I’m cool as a cucumber at all times.”

“You are almost always on the verge of a breakdown, Lance. It was the smart bet,” Allura argued as she opened the door. She had changed into sweats since the Pidge had seen her that afternoon. Lance was in pajamas.

“Obviously not, since you didn’t win.”

“Seriously, you guys were betting on this?” Hunk asked. “Why did nobody tell me?”

Lance shrugged. “Blame Pidge, she was the one keeping book.”

“Nobody bet on you,” Pidge informed Hunk. “And we had too many bets on Lance and I knew you’d put your money there too.”

“I would have,” Hunk agreed.

Lance scowled. “Hey!”

“Allura would’ve been my second guess,” Hunk said, leaning back against the counter as he thought about it.

“Hey!”

The oven beeped and Hunk pulled out the first tray of cupcakes, setting them on top of the fridge to cool.

“Are they ready?” Keith asked, not looking up from his phone.

“No, still have to cool and be frosted.”

Pidge looked over Keith’s shoulder. “Hey! That’s my phone!” She snatched it back from him and started scrolling through it. “How’d you even get it open?”

“I have my ways,” he said with a one-shouldered shrug and a slight smile.

“He saw you enter it during lunch on Monday,” Shiro said. “He’s been waiting for the opportunity to use it.”

Keith kicked Shiro’s knee. “Don’t give away all my secrets.”

Pidge rolled her eyes and stuffed her phone in her pocket, mentally plotting what she was going to change Keith’s background to next time he left his phone or laptop unattended.

The oven beeped again and Hunk pulled the second tray of cupcakes. “Okay, everyone, since you’re here you have to help.

Keith and Lance both groaned but Allura perked up. “What do we do?”

“You’re all going to frost your own cupcakes,” he said. “I’ll teach you how to do it right.”

“I still get to eat the first one, right?” Keith asked, pushing to his feet.

“Why does he get the first one?” Lance cut in.

“Because he’s here for the chocolate instead of because of blackmail,” Hunk said with a sniff.

“Suck up,” Lance whispered. He looked at Pidge. “Can we get our money before this starts?”

“No.”

“Awww, come on.”

Hunk set a bowl of icing down in front of him along with a cupcake.

“Frost the damn cupcake,” Pidge said, “then you can have your money.”

Lance was about to just plop a spoonful of icing on top of the cupcake when Hunk grabbed his wrist.

“No, you have to frost the cupcake correctly or you forfeit whatever money you’re getting to me,” he said. “My breakdown, my rules.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“How do we do this?” Shiro asked.

“Thank you for asking, Shiro. Let me show you.” Hunk demonstrated how he wanted the cupcakes frosted and then left them to it, critiquing their work as they went.

Keith barely waited for the go-ahead before sinking his teeth into his frosted cupcake. He gave Hunk a thumbs-up and continued to devour it.

Everyone dug into their cupcakes soon after that, complimenting Hunk as soon as they’d tasted his creation.

By the time the cupcakes were gone and Pidge had doled out the money, as promised, Hunk’s eyes were starting to droop.

“Alright everyone, out of our apartment. I have class in three hours and I would like to get some sleep before then,” Pidge said.

“What possessed you to take an 8 am on a Friday?” Keith asked, horrified.

“The fact that it was the only time the advanced math I want to take is offered. Apparently everyone assumes that the math department is crazy,” she said.

“I’d agree with that,” Lance said.

“Out!”

“I’m going, I’m going,” he said. “We all still on for drinks tonight?”

Everyone confirmed that they were and Pidge finally shut the door on her friends, promising to see them later. When she turned back to the apartment, Hunk was snoring on the couch and their kitchen was still a disaster.

Pidge eyed the mess, shrugged her shoulders, and went to bed. It was definitely a problem for later.

[tosybelle-blog]

The Boys of Summer, Chapters I-V

He said, “Son, I’ve made a life Out of readin’ people’s faces Knowin’ what the cards were By the way they held their eyes Kenny Rogers, The Gambler

Margo

I knew something was up the day my brothers and Vanessa got back from spring break. Let me state for the record that I plan to have a much cooler road trip when I am a senior. Me and Karen are already planning it. It’s going to be awesome.

Though I guess their trip was pretty cool, too. The first thing I noticed was that Jordan came back with a girlfriend. Everything to come out of his mouth since then has been Haley this and Haley that. He was pretty boring before, but he’s really super boring now.

But the real difference has been with Byron. He’s always been really easy to tease because he takes everything way too seriously. He thinks way too much. You also have to watch what you say and do around him because he is a worse tattle-tale than my sister Claire, and she’s in middle school.

Ever since they came back, though, Byron’s been kinda cooler than normal. He jokes back with you when you mess with him, and he’s come out of narc mode—sometimes. He still ratted when he caught Claire with cigarettes, but he didn’t say a word when I came in after curfew.

One day, maybe a week or two after spring break, Karen and I decided we needed to go to the mall. Jordan and Adam were at a baseball game at school. Mom and Dad were at work. No one was free at Karen’s house, so Byron was the only driver left. I went to the room he shares with Nick to butter him up.

Vanessa had taken her camera’s memory card to the drug store the day before and had come home with a thick envelop full of pictures. She, the triplets, and Haley had spent a few hours sorting photos and exclaiming over them. Byron in particular had come away with a huge pile of pictures and said he was going to spend the afternoon framing them.

When I knocked on the door, though, Nick answered. He was alone in the room, reading some weird sci-fi book. Pretty normal Nick.

“Seen Byron?”

He shook his head. “He went down to the basement to find frames in the junk room. He’s been gone a while.” Nick went back to his book and ignored me.

I sat down on Nick’s bed and bounced for a while. I might as well have been alone, for all Nick noticed.

A few minutes later, Byron came back up with a pile of dirty old picture frames. “Oh, hey Margo,” he said cheerfully. “I was thinking of decorating these old frames so they match. You have an artistic eye. Any ideas?”

I looked over the drab old frames, a mishmash of colors, shapes and sizes. “Buy some colorful stickers and cover them so you can’t see the original background,” I suggested.

Byron nodded. “Not bad,” he replied. He picked up the largest frame and pulled out the glass and the mat. Dusting everything off, Byron pulled out an eight by ten photo from the trip.

I was surprised. All the other pictures I had seen from this batch had been four by six. Adjusting the glass and mat back into the frame, he took the photo and taped it into place. When the frame was finished, Byron lifted it up and gazed upon it happily and then he set the hideous, ostentatious puce colored frame down on his bedside table so it was aimed at his pillow.

When he picked up the next frame and began cleaning it, I jumped off Nick’s bed and sat down next to Byron’s pillow. I picked up the frame and inspected it. It was Byron and his friend Jeff, posing in front of the ocean. Byron’s arms were around Jeff, and Jeff was resting his cheek on Byron’s temple.

I looked from the photo to Byron and back. “You and Jeff?” I asked.

He didn’t look up. “Yup.”

I pressed on. “Are you, like, a couple?”

Byron looked at me over his project. “Is he my boyfriend? No. Have we kissed and stuff? Sure.” It was all very casual. Very nonchalant.

“So, you’re gay then?”

“Yup.” Byron looked up at me and then Nick, waiting to see how we responded.

I think we surprised him. I reached over to Nick, hand out, palm up. “Pay up!” I demanded.

Byron’s eyes went wide and his face went crimson. “What in the world is going on here?” he asked.

I grinned. “I made a bet with Nick that you’d come out one day.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “And how long ago was this?”

I shrugged. Nick put his book down and spoke up. “I dunno. Maybe a year? Maybe closer to two.” He pulled a twenty out of his wallet and plopped it, grudgingly, into my hand.

I couldn’t tell if Byron was irritated or amused. “Twenty bucks? Is that all I’m worth to you two?” Nick and I looked at each other, not sure how to respond. Before we could reply, Byron started to laugh. “I gotta ask, Nick, why you bet I was straight,” he said as he chuckled.

Nick had picked his book back up but hadn’t opened it yet. “You’re not exactly the flamboyant type,” he replied, and then he started reading.

Byron and I looked at each other and he shook his head. Nick is such a space cadet some times. I smiled back at him and he put a framed picture of the triplets next to his giant photo of Jeff. He stopped when he saw that smile, as if it had just occurred to him that I was actually voluntarily sitting on his bed. “Did you come in for something, Margo?” he asked.

“Yeah. Can me and Karen get a ride to the mall?”

Byron sighed and rolled his eyes. “I guess so, as long as Karen can find you a ride home.”

He gathered his car keys and we headed down to the stairs. The Civic was parked out on the curb, but Byron stopped outside the front door. “Margo?”

I nearly ran into him. “What?”

“Do me a favor, okay? I’m still coming out, so not everyone knows yet. Can you keep it to yourself a bit? I don’t mind if you tell, say, a couple friends, but I haven’t told Mom and Dad, or Mal or Claire. And I’d prefer if they found out from me, rather than you or someone else. Got it?”

I grinned at him. “I think that picture by your bed is going to give everyone all the information they need,” I teased.

“Still. Don’t tell anyone in the family, and make sure that if you do tell Karen or whoever, they know not to mention it at the house?”

“No problem. It’ll be our secret or now. I’ll just use the information for blackmail purposes. Rides to the mall whenever I need them.”

Byron smiled back. “What is it with you? First gambling, then blackmail.” He shook his head. “Kids these days.”

We got in the car and drove off toward Karen’s house.

  Fantasy could never be so giving I feel free, I hope that you are willing Pick the beat up, and kick your feet up Dance with me Orleans, Dance with Me

Byron

I can easily tell you my favorite day of the week. It’s Wednesday, because that’s when Jeff calls.

We have a set time. Usually, he calls me—his dad doesn’t watch the phone bill like a hawk the way mine does. Plus, he actually encourages the calls. Apparently, Jeff has been a lot happier since he came back from spring break, and his dad is all for anything that keeps that up. I guess it’s not too surprising that he’s been happier. I have, too.

We were on our fourth call, four weeks since he’d flown back to California and away from me. Jeff was telling me about how his friend Oliver was slacking in the prom department. “He hasn’t even rented a tux yet, and prom is Saturday.”

“Really? That’s early. Ours isn’t for, like, another month.”

Jeff laughed. “Yeah, well, I think we graduate a week after your prom.”

I thought about that for a minute. We didn’t graduate for another month after prom. “So, are you going to prom?” I asked.

He sucked in a breath. “No. Why would I? There’s only one person I want to dance with, and you won’t be there.”

“Awww.” Jeff always knows just the right thing to say.

“Well, what about you, By?” he asked. “You going to your prom? It won’t be so bad now that you’re no longer a loud music virgin.”

“Oh, ha ha,” I said in response to the virgin crack. That’s one of Jeff’s favorite jokes—to tell me the kinds of virginity I’ve lost thanks to him. “But really, why would I want to go to prom? I have the same problem you do about it, plus the whole ‘giant introvert’ thing I’ve got going.”

Jeff laughed again. “That’s all for show,” he said. “Anyway, you could hang out with Adam, Jordan and Hay.”

“Like I don’t do that every weekend anyway. For free!”

“Honestly, By…I think you should go. It might be fun to expand your horizons some more.” He was eating a snack while talking, something chewy.

I sighed loud enough for him to hear me. “Okay, okay,” he said, his mouth empty now. “I’m only going to say one more thing on the matter. Think about going to prom. If you decide to go, I’ll fly out and go with you.” There was a pause and I could hear him drinking through a straw. “Did you catch 24 this week?” Jeff asked, and I knew the subject was closed—at least for now.

We hung up about twenty minutes later. I told him to take care, same as always. Jeff always responds with “love ya.” I never know how to reply to that. I know that what I feel for him could be love, but it could also be infatuation. Or even lust. Who knows? Besides, I suspect he says it out of reflex from talking on the phone with his mom.

Either way, whether Jeff meant it or not, I decided I was still a love virgin.

***

Jeff might have serious personal issues that he’s dealing with, but his advice is always worth listening to. He’s almost always right. But this time, I wasn’t so sure. I know I’m gay, and I’m okay with people knowing I’m gay, but did I really want to parade in front of all the kids at school with another guy on my arm? It was like asking someone to beat my ass.

But I’ve always been a bit chicken and so my instinct is always to run away from stuff that’s scary. I needed a second opinion.

The reason Jeff and I talk on Wednesdays is that Nick is out for the evening. He and a few friends play Dungeons and Dragons every Wednesday night. He wouldn’t be back until curfew in a couple hours. I could talk privately on any topic I wanted to anyone I wanted.

I dialed a number from memory. Hay’s mom answered on the second ring. “Hi, Mrs. B, Is Hay home?” I asked.

“Well, hello Byron! No, I’m afraid Haley is out with Jordan tonight. I’m surprised you didn’t know that. You’ve usually got her schedule memorized.”

I smiled at that. “Well, I’ve been a bit busy myself recently. Must have just gotten the days confused.”

Mrs. Braddock chuckled. “Do you want me to leave her a message?”

“No thanks. I’ll talk to her tomorrow after school. You have a good evening, though.”

“You too, Byron. Good night.”

So much for that idea. I put the phone down next to the photo of Jeff and me on my nightstand and walked out of the room. Mom had taken Margo and Claire for haircuts and Dad was working late. Nick was at D&D and who the hell knows where Vanessa goes when she’s not at home. Jordan was out with Hay and Mallory wouldn’t be home from Sarah Lawrence for a few more weeks. I wandered down the hall to my brothers’ room. The door was closed but the light was on. I knocked and Adam answered. “Come in.”

I opened the door and entered. Adam and Jordan still have a set of bunk beds they’ve used since we outgrew cribs some sixteen years ago. I can still remember them making fun of me for being scared to sleep on the top bunk when we were about four. Adam was doing his homework at his desk. I sat down on Jordan’s bed, which was the bottom bunk. “Can I ask you an opinion on something?” I asked.

Adam put down his chemistry book and looked at me. “Always.”

“Do you think I should go to prom?”

He cocked his head to one side. “Of course. You only get one senior prom. Why wouldn’t you want to go?”

I sighed. “I basically have two options. I can either go alone and watch everyone else dancing and be all pathetic on the sidelines. Or I can…”

“Yeeeees?” He dragged the word out, trying to drag the words out of me.

“I can invite Jeff. He said he’d go with me if I wanted.”

“Oh, I see.” Adam turned in his chair so that he was completely facing me. “I’m guessing you’d like to invite Jeff, but you’re worried about what other people will think.” He paused for a moment, waiting or a response. I gave him a tiny nod. “Well, a lot of people already know, Byron. And what’s the worst that has happened? That idiot Dan Reiber now sits as far away from you in the cafeteria as he possibly can, like he’s afraid ‘the gay’ is catching. That’s a big loss, that one.” He laughed a sarcastic chuckle. Adam has been one of my biggest supporters since I started coming out. There’s a reason he’s the first person I ever told. But sometimes I think he sees the world through rose colored glasses.

“I’m not worried about the Dan Reibers of the world,” I commented.

“As you shouldn’t be,” Adam replied, “but then, what are you scared of?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s a dandy way to live your life.” Adam picked up his chemistry book and wrinkled his brow. “Think that over a bit. Meanwhile, you took this class last year, didn’t you? Wanna help me a bit?”

“Loan me a chair and show me what you’re stuck on.” I love when I go to Adam for advice. I always end up helping him with his homework.

***

I guess I was just looking for someone to tell me I was right to be scared, but no one was cooperating. Hay piled more on when I saw her the next morning. “My mom said you called,” she said as she shifted her school bag from one shoulder to the other, standing in the hallway outside her first period class.

“Yup. I also told her she didn’t need to leave you a message.”

“Oh, you know my mom. You tell her no message and then you give her information, and she leaves me a message.” Hay chuckled. “What was on your mind, By?”

I shifted my books from one arm to the other. “Jeff offered to fly out and go to prom with me.”

She cocked her head from one side to the other. “You said yes, of course,” she replied.

I frowned at her. “I said I’d think about it.”

“Oh, By,” Hay shook her head in despair. “You need to think less, do more.”

“Isn’t that the opposite of what they taught us in sex ed?”

“Ha ha.” Hay rolled her eyes at my lame joke. “What is there to think about? You care about Jeff. He cares about you, obviously. I know you miss him, because he’s all you talk about most of the time. Invite the man!”

Well. There you were. Three opinions, all unanimous. “Okay, okay. I know when I’m beat. I’ll get the two of us tickets.”

Hay squealed. “Great! We’re going to have so much fun. You’ll save me a dance, right?”

“Sure, Hay. Whatever.” She shoved me and headed into her classroom. The first bell rang and I walked the other way to calculus.

***

There was just one more thing I had to do before I could buy those tickets. I had to have a talk with a couple people.

Dinner was a small affair at the Pike house that night. Just me and Nick and Claire and our parents. I like those nights sometimes, but I was so nervous that I didn’t really talk at all during dinner. Nick never really talks to any of us unless you start the conversation, so he was quiet too. Luckily, Claire didn’t notice, and she talks enough for eight kids anyway. So it wasn’t as if the meal was completely awkward.

Claire and Nick cleared the table while I loaded the dishwasher. My parents had gone to the living room and when I was done, I followed them. “Hey guys,” I said as I sat down next to Dad.

“What do you want, Byron?” Mom asked.

I shook my head. “Don’t worry, I’m not asking for permission for something…this time. I actually just wanted to give you a heads up instead.”

That got their attention. “A heads up?” Dad repeated.

“Yup.”

“What kind of heads up?”

I took a deep breath. “I’m flying in a prom date from out of town, and I wanted to warn you.”

Mom and Dad looked at each other. I couldn’t read Dad’s expression, but Mom looked concerned. “You wanted to warn us you were going to prom?”

I wrinkled my forehead, trying to figure out how to say what I needed to say. “No. I wanted to warn you about who I was taking.”

Dad was starting to look irritated. “What exactly is the problem, here, Byron? You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and I’m sure anyone you’ve picked to go to the dance is fine. I’ve never seen you with a girl besides Haley, but I can’t imagine you picking up someone that your mother and I wouldn’t approve of. Are you planning to take a wanted fugitive? A stripper? A hooker?”

I laughed nervously. “No, no. It’s not like that. I’m just…Mom, Dad, I’m taking Jeff.” There. I said it.

They looked at each other again. “Jeff? Are you going as friends?” Dad asked, although the look on his face told me he knew the answer to that question.

I shook my head slowly and the words came out in a tumble. “No, not as friends. I’m taking him as my date. My first real date.” I realized my hands were shaking. For some reason, it was much harder to tell my parents than my brothers. But I had to finish. “I’m gay.”

Mom reached across Dad and put a hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“Definitely.”

“Oh, Byron.” She got up and pulled me into a hug. I hugged her back, feeling like a little kid again, sitting in her lap. Then I realized she was crying.

“Mom, what’s the matter?” I was afraid of how she would answer that. Luckily, my mom is pretty cool.

She pulled back from the hug and brushed the hair out of my eyes. “I had a feeling someday you’d tell me this,” she said, her voice steady despite the tears, “but I had hoped I was wrong. Don’t worry, I support you either way. It’s just…some people are so backward about gay rights. I had hoped you weren’t gay because I worry about you getting cursed at or beaten because of it.” Mom hugged me again and then let me go.

Dad stood on my other side. “I have a hard time accepting that you and your brothers are legally adults now. You’re a grown man, and gay or straight, I couldn’t have asked for a better son.” He put his hand on the back of my neck. “But if you ever need anything, you know Mom and I are here for you.” I hugged him too.

“Thanks guys, for being so understanding. I’m going to go finish my homework. Good night.”

“Night.”

I went up to my room. Nick was at his desk, working on an essay about Julius Caesar. I pulled an envelope out from under my mattress and counted out enough money for prom tickets. I put it in my wallet and vowed to buy the tickets first thing the next morning. Before I lost my nerve again.

***

Haley

My parents have some rules they’re pretty strict about. My homework has to be done before I leave if I want to go out at night. I’m not allowed to be out on weeknights after ten o’clock. And I’m never, ever, to drive my car with just me and Jordan inside.

My mom has always been really cool about me hanging out with By. He could probably spend the night in my bed and she wouldn’t care. But she also knows he’s gay. It also helps that he is such an Eddie Haskell when my parents are around. He’s a little too polite almost. He makes me—and anyone else I bring by—look bad.

For some reason, I thought it would be the same way when I brought Jordan over. I mean, other than their hair and clothes, By and Jordan are identical in appearance. And they really aren’t that different in personality either. They just find different ways to cover their sensitivities. By burrows into his shell; Jordan lashes out. Neither one of these matters with my parents around, because it’s not like Mom and Daddy are picking at them.

But things are definitely different when I bring Jordan by. Mom knows he’s straight—me introducing him as my boyfriend must been a big hint—so he’s not even allowed in my bedroom. And like I said, I’m not allowed to drive anywhere with him in the car unless we have a third person with us. I think Daddy has been taking some lessons from the Pikes, who basically have the same rules at their house.

But Jordan and I found a way around this. I drive to this wooded street that’s all quiet, a few blocks from his house. He walks over and joins me. We then have privacy for a while, without breaking a single rule, because we don’t drive anywhere. And we take full advantage of it.

I can’t compare making out with Jordan to anything, because I’ve never really made out with a guy before. Except Dominic, and he doesn’t count. At all. But I think I’ve been missing something all these years. Maybe hanging out exclusively with a gay guy wasn’t the best move on my part. I feel repressed.

We were in the backseat of the car Friday night, stretched across the seat. I was lying on my back and Jordan was pretty much sitting in my lap, which is pretty funny if you think about it. He leaned back over me and kissed my neck. It’s one of his favorite spots, but I always live in fear of him giving me a hickey. It’s too warm for a turtleneck.

We rolled over on our sides a moment later and he just wrapped his arms around me tightly. I get this tingling feeling every time he does that, especially when we’ve been in the backseat for a while. I can always feel him pressed against me, especially the lump in his shorts. There are parts of me that want to just rip his pants off at times like this and do whatever comes to mind afterward. But there are other parts that live in fear of that actually happening.

We’ve only been together a month, but I know a lot of girls who move a lot faster than that. I have this need for balance in my life right now, and having a boyfriend throws such a monkey wrench into that. I don’t want to move so slowly that I’m a tease or a prude, but I also don’t want to move so fast that I’m a slut or regret things after they happen. I’ve told Jordan I want to take things slow, and he understands.

I compromised this time by pressing my leg between his as we resumed kissing. There are some nights we hardly talk because we’re too “busy.” Tonight was not going to be one of those nights. We’d shifted again because my arm was going numb when he stopped and pulled a short distance back from our embrace. “Will you go to prom with me?” he asked.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

Jordan’s face grew serious. “What?” he asked, referring to the laughter.

I reached out and touched his forehead. His hair had started growing in, and it was at that “sticking-out-in-directions” stage. I smoothed my hand across his furrowed brow. “Well, first I’m laughing because you thought you actually had to ask me if I’d go to prom instead of assuming I’d go with you.” He lightened up a bit and gave me a half smile. “Second, you asked in mid-make out. You have to admit, that’s pretty silly.”

He pressed on. “So you’ll go with me?”

“Of course, goofy. Am I your girlfriend, or what?”

He smiled fully. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

I grinned at him. “You sound relieved. Did you really think I’d say no?”

He looked away, which is hard to do when we’re that close together. “Not really. I didn’t think you’d want to go with someone else or something like that. I was more worried you wouldn’t want to go at all.”

I kissed his nose. “No, it’s going to be great. By’s bringing Jeff, you know, and I’m sure Adam will be there. I’m going to try to talk Vanessa into coming, too.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you love me or my family.”

“Who says I love you at all?”

Jordan pulled back a little farther and turned his head slightly to one side. I wiggled a little closer to him, careful not to tip the two of us off the seat entirely. It’s happened before. “So, what is prom like?” I asked. I’m a junior and I’ve never had a chance to go. Jordan went last year with some cheerleader named Amanda.

He thought about that for a second. “You eat, you dance, you get your picture taken. You spend some time with your friends and some with your date.” He shrugged. “I think it will be different this year.”

I snuggled my head next to his neck. I could hear every breath he took that way. Very soothing. “How so?”

“Well, I’m a senior. This is the last dance with everyone. I’ve known some of these people since kindergarten.” Jordan kissed the top of my head. “And then there’s you. I wanted to ask you go with me last year, but I thought you were dating Byron.”

That was something new. “You thought I was with By?”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know he was gay back then.”

“Okay, then. I could see how you’d make that mistake.” I put one hand on his back, right between his shoulder blades, and pushed hard with the butt of my hand. He groaned as if I were doing something dirty instead of massaging him. When I was done, we lay there for a few minutes, quiet. He ran one hand up and down my side, from the band of my jeans up to the side of my breast. “So what about after prom? What do people do then?”

Jordan didn’t stop moving his hand. “There are a couple options I’ve heard of. The school hosts a post-prom, where you pay five bucks and then do whatever in the basement at the university for a couple hours. I think there’s bowling and video games and cards and prizes and stuff. The point is to prevent us from going out and drinking.” He shifted slightly, and the hand was on my breast. He kept talking. “Of course, there’s always Dan Reiber’s party, which is exactly the type of debauchery that the school wants us to avoid.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I am not a fan of Dan Reiber,” I said, thinking of the way he’d written ‘Byron Pike is a fag,’ in one of the boys’ bathrooms at school.

Jordan’s hand found a nipple and he twirled two fingers around it, slowly. “I’m not exactly good friends with him either these days. But there will probably be a hundred people at this party. Mr. Reiber is rich and likes to throw money around. I think he knows it’s the only way Dan can make friends. So he gets him a huge suite with a hot tub and buys a shit ton of alcohol. It’s fun for a couple of hours, then everyone’s wasted and there are literally people doing it on, like, every surface. Kinda tacky.”

“Isn’t prom night when you’re supposed to lose your virginity?” I don’t know what made me say it. I had no intention of deflowering Jordan (isn’t that a funny word?) at prom, or any other time soon. I think it just naturally followed what he was talking about. But Jordan retracted his hand as if my boob had just turned into a hot coal. He pulled his arm out from underneath me and sat up suddenly on the edge of the car seat. His butt was right by my side.

“I’m sorry,” I said, sitting up beside him and rumpling my messy hair, attempting to make it look less like sex hair (as Vanessa would say.) “That was totally a joke.”

He moved closer, still looking down. Without a word, he reached over and moved his hand up the back of my shirt, pushing the shirt up. I turned my back to him and he fastened my bra back up. “I know. I just…”

“Yes?”

Jordan changed directions. “Have you ever heard of the Faith League?” he asked.

I nodded. It sounded vaguely familiar, like I’d seen kids at school wearing the shirts. “It’s a Christian group at school, right?”

“Yeah. They meet every Tuesday all year long. Until baseball season, I was going every week. It’s not just Bible and Jesus; we actually talk about a lot of things that affect our lives as teens.”

I put one hand on his knee while he talked. “Sounds like a good group of friends to have,” I commented. Actually, it sounded dead boring. My parents never really raised my brother and me in any kind of religion, and I’m not sure I even believe any of it. Some of the stories in the Bible are pretty silly, after all. I know the Pikes go to church every Sunday and encourage their kids to come with. By usually goes about once a month to keep his parents off his back, but he never seemed too interested in it. He seems to be a Christmas-and-Easter type of Christian.

But I guess Jordan is different. Since we’ve been together, I think he’s gone to church every Sunday with his parents. I know he played the piano at one of those services. He’s never been pushy about religion and he doesn’t talk about it much, so I wasn’t really worried about it. Until now.

“Yeah, there’s some really neat people in Faith League. You’d like some of them.” He looked out the car window as a set of headlights flashed by. I thought he was done, but just when I was about to change the subject, he started talking again. “Back in October or so there was a lot of talk about sex and the amount of thought that needs to go into the decision to have sex. Some of us got to talking, and we decided to take a pledge.”

“A pledge?” Several images ran through my head and none of them were particularly pleasant. I was actually imagining Jordan joining a cult. Sometimes my imagination runs away from me. “What kind of pledge?”

He looked away from me again, but began running one fingernail up and down the outer seam of my jeans, making a strange sound. “A purity pledge. We vowed to remain virgins until marriage.”

Wow. “Really?” I asked. I never think about marriage, particularly. I’m seventeen—I don’t plan on getting married for another ten or fifteen years, if ever.

Jordan looked embarrassed. “I’m not saying I’ll actually make it all the way to marriage,” he said, blushing a little, “but basically, I wanted to take sex off the table for now. There’s really too much else going on for me to even be thinking about it. Baseball. College. You.” He was still running his nail on my jeans. I caught his hand to stop him, because it was making my thigh really warm. He finally looked me in the eye. “Of course, you do complicate things. Before you, I’ve never actually wanted to…”

He didn’t have to finish the thought; I felt the same way about him. “I know what you mean,” I said.

“And I don’t know how fair it is to you to continue to honor that pledge. You didn’t make one, after all.”

I still had his hand and I squeezed. “It’s okay, Jordan. I’m not ready, either. I really was just kidding about prom night, anyway.” He didn’t look soothed. “Tell you what. I’ll make my own version of the pledge. I vow that I will not make jokes about things that are serious to you, and I vow to take anything sexual slowly, and not pressure for anything we don’t both agree on. Sound fair to you?”

He smiled. “You are the best, Haley.”

I grinned back at him. “I know.” I wasn’t quite ready to tell Jordan that I wasn’t making that pledge for him, but for me. When you have my lousy history with guys, it’s sometimes hard to even trust a guy to touch you at all, as much as you might want him to. But I wasn’t quite ready to tell Jordan he had a rape victim for a girlfriend, so it was easier to let him think it as all his idea. “I have fifteen minutes before I have to head home for curfew. Got any ideas on how we can spend it?”

Jordan leaned over and kissed me. “I have a few…”

***

Jeff

Brrrrring.

“Hello, Schafer-Olson residence.”

“Jeff?”

“By! What’s up? It’s not Wednesday already, is it? Heh heh.”

“No, but I was so excited, I couldn’t wait. I’m glad you were home. I bought us tickets to the prom today.”

“Really! Last time we talked, you were still waffling over it.”

“Well, I decided, fuck anyone who doesn’t like it. I’m as entitled to go to the prom with the person I’m dating as they are.”

“Good for you. What did they say when you put our names down?”

“No one said a word. But I also don’t think they even looked at the names I wrote down, either.”

“Well, that’s one hurdle down.”

“Two actually. I told my parents the other night.”

“Told ‘em you were gay, or told ‘em about us?”

“Both. My mom is doing that overprotective mom thing, where she’s all worried about me. But they were pretty cool.”

“That’s great. Listen, By, you’ve inspired me. I need to go talk to someone, but I’ll call you Wednesday, okay?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Take care, Jeff.”

“Love ya.”

Click.

Knock, knock.

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Can I talk to you?”

“Sure. I’ve got a few minutes before I have to pick Gracie up from soccer. What’s on your mind, son?”

“I’ve got something I have to tell you.”

“This sounds serious. Do you want to sit down?”

“No, it’s not like that. Well, it’s important but I don’t think you’d call it serious, really…”

“Jeff, you’re babbling. Why don’t you just tell me what you came in here to say?”

“I got invited to prom back in Stoneybrook. Mom said she would pay for the tickets if I wanted to go out for the weekend.”

“Is that all? Of course you can go to Stoneybrook for the prom. Which one of the girls are you going with? It was Vanessa and Bailey on that trip, wasn’t it?”

“Actually, it was Vanessa and Haley. But I’m not going with either of them.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Haley’s dating Jordan and I think Vanessa’s got some weirdo boyfriend I’ve never met.”

“So then, you’re going with…”

“Byron.”

“Byron? He’s one of the triplets, right?”

“Yup.”

“Jeff, are you trying to tell me you’re gay?”

“No. Well, maybe.”

“You’re not making much sense, son.”

“What I’m trying to tell you is that I don’t know. Maybe I’m gay. Maybe I’m bisexual. I just haven’t figured that out yet. But what I do know is that I really like Byron.”

“You like him? You guys are friends, right? You’re supposed to like your friends.”

“Dad. I’ve kissed him a few times. Okay, maybe more than a few. Byron is definitely gay, but I liked him even before I knew that. All I can tell you for sure is that By and I really care about each other and we’re more than friends.”

“I guess that’s what really matters then, isn’t it? Listen, I have to go pick Gracie up. When you decide what you ‘are’, you’ll be sure to let me know, right?”

“Sure, Dad.”

I’d never heard my dad sound so sarcastic before. After he left, I put my head down on the arm of the couch and cried.

 Oh how strong can you be With matters of the heart? Life is much too short To while away with tears Queen, Jealousy

Jordan

On the sunny Tuesday after the prom, I met Haley at the corner. For some reason, she wanted to walk downtown. Usually, we drive or bike, but she was insistent. I find it’s easier just to do what she asks, if it’s not too outrageous. I want to keep her around.

I’ve been in love with Haley for a long time. She’s just perfect—so sweet and spunky and full of energy. She also tells it like it is, but in a nice way. If I’m ever worried that something I want to do or say will make me seem like a dickhole, I ask her about it first. She’s always nice about it and doesn’t hold it against me, even when I’m way off base. Plus, she’s cute and an amazing kisser. I can’t believe how lucky I am.

We walked for about a block, holding hands and not talking. I watched her as we went. She looked at everything, almost in an ADD kind of way. Someone would walk by and she’d flick her eyes that way; a bird would tweet and the eyes went the other way. When Haley does it, though, it doesn’t look scatterbrained. She just appears bright and aware.

I found out before too long why we were walking. There are a couple of vending machines for newspapers up the block from our houses, on the way to town. Haley stopped in front of the machine and pumped a couple coins into it and pulled out a paper, which she folded in half. I grimaced as she stored the paper in her armpit. She saw my face and explained, “My mom saw By’s picture and she wanted another copy.”

The grimace turned to a scowl. “What for?”

Haley caught both the expression and the tone and she raised an eyebrow. “Maybe she wants to frame it and put in on her wall with one of those crazy religious candles,” she suggested sarcastically. “You know. St. Byron.”

I snorted. Haley put her arm—not the one she was using to hold up the newspaper— around my hip and pulled me close. I can’t resist when she wants to touch me. I put an arm around her tiny waist and she leaned into me. We started walking again, and I thought she had let the subject drop. I was wrong.

“What exactly is your issue with By now?” she asked.

I sighed. “I don’t have an issue with him.”

Haley laughed. “You could have fooled me.” She squeezed my side as we continued walking. Haley is about the only person I know who can be unhappy with you and still want to keep feeling you up.

I repeated my last statement as we kept walking. “I do not have a problem with him. What I have a problem with is the way everyone else treats him.”

“Oh?”

I couldn’t tell exactly what that “oh” meant. Oh is one of those words that can have so many meanings and emotions behind it. This one didn’t sound too upset, but it did sound edgy. I figured I could probably explain myself without the oh going too far over the edge. “He does something that the rest of the world does and it’s such a big deal that even the news media covers it.”

Haley put her head on her shoulder and looked up, which is pretty much the only way she can see my face when we’re walking like that. “Is it just me, or do you sound jealous?”

I snorted. “What the hell do I have to be jealous of?”

Haley smiled. “You are so jealous!” she teased. She pulled away from me for a moment and opened up the paper to the picture her mom was apparently going to frame. “You wish that were us in the newspaper.”

I took another look at the newspaper article, although I’d seen it about 1000 times already that day. It was headlined “Gay teens make splash at SHS prom” and was topped by a picture of Byron and Jeff dancing. Somehow, the local paper had found out that there was going to be a guy/guy couple at the prom and they’d decided it was news. That’s what I have a problem with. I mean, fuck, the guy just wanted to go on a date with someone. In that, he’s just like every other teenaged boy. Why’d they have to go and make such a big deal out of it? Byron eats (like a pig) and goes to the bathroom, too. Do they want to write stories about those things?

Haley touched my arm. “I know you say you’re not jealous, and for the most part, I believe you. But there may come a moment when you do get tired of all this special attention being thrown at your brother.” Haley knows what she’s talking about. Her little brother is deaf, and she spends a lot of time translating for him. I know there are days she resents the hell out of him.

“What I don’t get,” I began as I took her hand again. Haley folded up the newspaper again and stuck it back under her arm. She was wearing a light blue shirt that brought out the brown of her eyes and a pair of capri jeans. She turned her face to me and watched me intently as I spoke. “What I don’t get,” I repeated, having lost my train of thought looking into her eyes, “is why the paper was even interested in the story. The school didn’t even blink at Byron and Jeff. It wasn’t an issue. And it shouldn’t be. There’s so much bigger shit in life than who someone wants to date.”

Haley looked thoughtful. “I’ve asked myself the same question. Partly because of what you said. Partly because of By. He’s not exactly a publicity hound, right?” That’s kind of an understatement. Byron is one of those people who goes out of his way to avoid talking to strangers. There’s nothing wrong with him; he just prefers a small circle of friends and his privacy. “Did you actually read the article? They talked to Jeff. They talked to Adam. They talked to the principal. They have one line from Byron, and that’s just something Adam told them he said.”

“Isn’t that cheating when you’re writing a newspaper?” I joked.

Haley smiled, but then she looked serious. “I love the fact that you are supporting By, and I know what he appreciates it, too. I think that in some ways, the shit is going to hit the fan after this. He’s going to need as many people standing in his corner as he can get.”

“Well, he’s got me. Even if I am a little bit jealous.”

Haley lit up. “Ha! I knew it! Don’t ever try to lie to me, Jordan,” She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ve got a sixth sense for that sort of thing.”

I pulled her closer and gave her a real kiss. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

 There's too many people you used to know They see you coming they see you go They know your secrets and you know theirs This town is crazy; nobody cares

Beck, Lost Cause

Tiffany

My sister came home from college the day before my last final exam for the year. When you go to community college, like I do, there’s no big homecoming and you finishing the year is no big deal. But Shannon goes to NYU and we only really see her for summers. I’m surprised to find I actually miss her when she’s gone, but it’s annoying how my mom and Maria fawn over her when she comes back. Yet I know when I finish exams tomorrow, my mom’s gonna be like, Good job honey. Go take out the trash like I asked you.

I was panicking about my algebra final because I just don’t really get numbers. I had been going to all the tutoring sessions they offer for free at the school but I still had a really low C in the class. If I was going to pass, I needed to do decent. And me and tests do not get along. It’s like all the information just flies out of my head when I sit down with a test in front of me. Add to that the fact that I had been ridiculously tired recently and you’ve got a bad combination.

The morning of my exam—the morning after Shannon came home—I was studying as hard as I knew how, going over notes and checking formulas. Shannon came to stand in my doorway. She watched me for a while, a newspaper in her hand, before I noticed her. “Hey Tiffany! Haven’t seen you since I got home. How’s it going?”

I shrugged. “Exams,” I said listlessly. I was wishing she would just leave me alone, partly because I needed to study and partly because she was trying to bond with me in an annoying big sister way.

“Oh.” Shannon looked pained, like she was trying hard and not succeeding. I watched her for a while, waiting to see if she was finished. I don’t understand why, but she didn’t start talking again until I went back to my textbook. “Did you see the paper today?” she asked, holding out the newspaper she’d been holding.

I put my pencil down and gave her a long, blank stare. Shannon recoiled a little bit, but acted like I wasn’t acting like a crazy bitch. “No,” I finally replied, “I have not had time to read the paper today.” Like I read the paper even on days when I’m not busy.

Shannon sat on the side of my desk and opened the paper, pretending I was being a pleasant human being. She flipped a while and then looked over a page. “Didn’t you date one of the Pike boys?” she asked, almost idly.

I looked out the window. Why was she asking this? “Yeah.”

My sister waited for elaboration that I had no intention of giving. “Which one?” she asked. She was starting to get pissed; I could tell by her tone and how rigid her back was.

“Adam.”

Shannon smiled even though I was still on her nerves. “That’s right. This family has a history of Adams.”

I rolled my eyes internally. Shannon dated a guy named Adam for a while about a million years ago, and now she has another Adam. They’ve been together for about two years, and they are totally nauseating together. He is one of those rich guys like the ones I went to high school with, the ones who are so smarmy and fake you really don’t know anything about them after four years of high school with them. There’s a reason I mostly dated public school boys.

Adam Pike and I dated when I was a sophomore and he was a freshman. I’d actually really liked him, but I was pretty stupid back then. I had told my friends he was a junior, and even though he was short, he had a way of handling himself that made him seem older. What’s the word? Poise? He was funny too, and my friends all liked him…until they realized he was younger and his family had no money. I gave in to my friends and dumped him. He’d been pretty hurt. It’s one of the things in my life I regret most.

It suddenly occurred to me that I wasn’t going to be able to finish my much-needed studying until I got her to leave. “Why did you bring the Pikes up?” Shannon used to sorta be friends with Adam’s older sister, who is my age, but I don’t think they’d seen each other since Shannon started high school.

“Oh,” she said, as if she’d forgotten we were even talking about it, “there’s an article in the paper today about one of the Pike triplets and I wasn’t sure which one was which.” There was a time, back in the day, when the Pike boys all pretty much looked the same. They had the same hair and the same style of clothes, so it was pretty easy to confuse them. By the time I was dating Adam, he and his brothers all had different hair styles and different ways of dressing. I hadn’t seen the Pikes in several years, but I bet I still could have known which triplet I was looking at after just a glance.

“Let me see,” I said, gesturing for the article. Shannon folded the page over and handed it to me. A quick look at the photo showed two guys. One was tall and blonde and I didn’t recognize him. The other boy was clearly a Pike. He was dancing with the first boy and appeared ill at ease with having his photo taken. He wore his hair far too long and it hung into his eyes. He was slouchy and hunched over a little bit. All in all, he looked like someone who was unhappy in his own skin. “That’s Byron,” I said, checking the caption to prove I was right.

“Yes,” Shannon said. She was more relaxed now that I was cooperating with her. “Did you read the story?”

I looked up at her. “You know I don’t read that fast.”

“Okay, then, did you read the headline?”

I sighed and skimmed the headline. Gay Teens Make Splash at SHS Prom. “Yeah, so?”

“I was just wondering if he was the one you dated.” I could read what she really meant: she wanted it to be Adam so she could lord it over my head that I dated a gay guy. “They quoted Adam in the story, too. You should read it.”

I scoffed inside. “I’ll read it after my exam.”

Shannon popped off the desk. “Dad called. He wants to take us out to dinner tonight.”

Well. That was surprising. My mom kicked Dad out a couple years ago when she found out he was cheating on her. They never divorced, though. He has an apartment in the city and even though Shannon lives in the same town he does, she only sees him once a month or so. And I think Maria and me have seen him three times since he moved out. I wrinkled my nose. “Can’t. I have to study.”

Shannon eyed me critically. “It’s dinner, Tiff. Isn’t your exam this afternoon?”

“Then I just don’t want to go.”

Shannon rolled her eyes. “Then you get to explain that to him. I’m not doing your dirty work for you.” She looked over at my notes. “Algebra? I do pretty well at math. Do you want me to help you study?”

I shook my head. Even though I could have really used the help, I didn’t want to give Shannon one more thing to lord over my head.

“Suit yourself. Let me know if you change your mind.”

And then she was gone.

***

Adam

The phone rang about eight thirty Tuesday night. When both Margo and Claire are home, they fight over who gets to answer the phone. Makes it pointless for any of the rest of us to even reach for it. Plus, I wasn’t expecting any phone calls and I was about a week behind in chemistry. So I was pretty surprised when Claire called, “Aaaaaaa-dammmmmmm! It’s for yoooooooooooou!”

Jordan and I were both sitting at our desks. He was writing his literary analysis paper for English and it was due the next morning. The look on his face said, “This is worth twenty percent of my grade; talk on the phone in here and die.”

I greeted Claire outside the bedroom door. “Who is it?”

She grinned one of those annoying baby sister grins, the one where she knows she’s about to piss you off and she’s taking pleasure in it. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask. But….” She held the phone over her head, trying to keep it out of my reach. That does not work when she’s just under five feet tall and I’m nearly five seven. “It’s a guuuuuuuuuuu-ruuuuuuul!”

I snatched the phone away from Claire. “Are you twelve or are you five?” I asked. She just giggled and ran off. “Hello,” I said into the phone. “I apologize for my insane sister. Someone dropped her on her head as a baby.”

“And it was probably you, so you should just admit it.”

I recognized the voice but couldn’t place it. “Uh, hi?” I said unhelpfully.

She realized what was going on. “It’s Tiffany Kilbourne. I saw you were quoted in the newspaper and wanted to see how you were doing.”

Ahh, Tiffany. She was my first real girlfriend. I dated a lot of girls in middle school—the kind of relationship where you tell everyone you’re dating but you maybe go to the movies once. You hang out with each other at lunch for a couple weeks and then you’re done.

But my relationship with Tiffany was different. We went out for about five months and I really liked her. She was one of those private school rich kids but she didn’t act like that. Her clothes were always nice but she never wore crazy labels or trendy clothes. She didn’t look down her nose at me and my friends, and she was nice to my brothers and sisters. I never did quite understand why we broke up. One day she was all into me; the next she said that she thought we should see other people and that was it.

“Tiffany! It’s been a long time. How is it going?” And it had been a long time. I hadn’t seen her since we broke up, and that was more than three years ago. The cynical part of me wondered exactly why she was calling.

I didn’t wonder long. She drew in a long breath. “I actually called because I wanted to apologize.”

Really? “Uh, Tiffany…that’s okay. It was a lifetime ago.”

“No, no. I have to get this out.” She sounded a little frantic. I’d never heard her like this before; usually, she was laid-back to the point where you’d occasionally wonder if she was even conscious. “There are a lot of things in my life that I really regret, but treating you that way is the worst of them.”

Okay. Now she had me scratching my head. “Okay,” I replied, just to say something.

“I wanted you to know, I really did like you. I was such an idiot back then. I never should have listened to my friends.” I could picture her the way she was three years before, wearing a pair of artfully ripped jeans and a top that was tight enough that you could see her figure but not so tight that she looked like she was trying too hard. She used to wear her hair long and loose, with thick blonde bangs hanging in her eyes and just a little too much eye makeup. I could see her with her knees pulled up to her chest, sitting on her bed, her bare feet sticking out in front of her, her toenails painted a sickening green. Wow.

Tiffany continued. “I was just such a joiner back then. Peer pressure and all that, you know?” She chuckled but it didn’t sound like she had back in the day. Even though she was crazed, her voice also had a lethargic quality, like she was half asleep. “I really, really liked you and I shouldn’t have listened to my friends when they said they didn’t think we should see each other…”

She’d lost me a while back, and she was starting to completely ramble. “It’s okay, Tiff,” I repeated. “Seriously. I’m not mad any more. You are completely and totally forgiven.”

I guess this was not the right thing to say. “Any more?!” she cried. “You’re not mad any more? So you were mad when it first happened.” She made a noise that I couldn’t really identify, something between a cry and a hiccup.

Oh, no. “No, not mad,” I said. Damage control time! “I was a little confused and that’s about it. You didn’t do anything that most other fifteen year olds wouldn’t have done. No worries.”

Tiffany sniffled and I realized that she had been crying. “You’re really sure?”

“Yes, I’m completely certain.” I sat down in the hallway, outside my bedroom door. “Listen, Tiff, is everything okay?”

She sobbed for a second and I sat there, wide eyed, wondering what to do next. Before I decided, she had pulled herself together. “No,” she said sadly. “Everything is pretty fucked up. But it’s nothing new, ya know?” She paused a moment and then continued. “I’m just so glad that you aren’t upset. It’s one more worry off my list.”

I had been on the phone with her for a very short time and I was already concerned about her. “Did you want to get together some time?” I asked, “For old time’s sake, of course.”

She laughed an uneasy laugh. “Sure. I could really use a sounding board, and it’d be great to see you again.” Tiffany took a deep breath and before I could make some vague reply about calling her sometime soon, she plunged ahead. “Are you free Thursday night? We could go for coffee.”

Oh, shit. It’s not that I hadn’t really meant it about getting together with her, but if she was as big a mess as she seemed, then I wasn’t sure I wanted to go hang out with her. But I just knew that if I told her I was busy that night, she’d either retort with another night or go back to thinking that our break up had made a basket case out of me. Plus, coffee? That could be a twenty minute get together or several hours, depending on how things went. I could always escape as soon as my cup was empty. “Sure. That sounds great. About seven okay with you?”

“That’s perfect. I’m glad we talked, Adam. See you on Thursday.”

“Bye, Tiff. Have a good night.”

I put the phone back on its charger in the hallway and went back to my chemistry book. Jordan looked out from behind a wall of books and notes. He was obviously ready for a break. “So who was it?”

“You’ll never guess.”

Jordan pretended to look pensive. “Madonna?” he suggested. I crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at him. He’s been a lot more fun to be around since he started dating Haley.

“No, Shithead. Tiffany Kilbourne.”

“Tiffany?” Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you drag her out from?”

I laughed. “I didn’t drag her from anywhere. She saw that story about Byron in the paper and called.”

For a moment his face clouded over, and then he shook himself. “So how’s she doing these days?”

I shrugged, making a face. “I think she’s having some problems right now.” I picked up my chemistry book and looked at the assignment for a moment. “I’m going for coffee with her in a couple days.”

Jordan wrinkled his nose. “What for? Thinking of picking her back up?” I didn’t reply to that, just adjusted my half-finished assignment so that I could maybe get it completely finished sometime soon. “If she’s as fucked up as you say, that doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

I shrugged again. “I guess we’ll see after Thursday.”

***

Tiffany

I hung up the phone after talking with Adam and stretched out across the bed. Shannon and Maria were still out with Dad, but I knew they’d be back soon. I had decided I didn’t want to deal with Dad so I had stayed on campus until I knew he would have come and gone. Mom always leaves when she knows he’ll be coming by, so I’d been alone all evening.

I’d completely and totally bombed my final and I knew it. I figured there was a good shot I’d be taking algebra again next year. Not anything I could do about it now, but it was pretty depressing. I’d come home and eaten a whole carton of Ben and Jerry’s for dinner. I was pretty nauseous now, but I wasn’t sure if that was the ice cream or the test. Maybe a little of both.

I’d picked up the newspaper when I’d finally come back upstairs and read the article. It didn’t really tell me anything about Adam, other than he loves his brother. That’s something I’d already known. I’d ended up feeling really guilty, though. Adam’s grown up even better than I’d imagined he would have.

Speaking with Adam had made me feel better. He has seemed almost a little alarmed that I had even called, but he was cool about it. He’d even asked if I was okay and agreed to have coffee with me in a few days. I was hoping we could be friends; I could really use a friend right about now.

Just about all of my high school friends went away away to college. Pretty much no one stayed in Connecticut. One girl did go to Stoneybrook University, but she joined a sorority and made a bunch of new friends, so we lost touch. I’d met a whole bunch of new people at the community college, but I didn’t really get close to any of them. Most of them worked and went to school and already had friends. I guess I could have gotten involved with some activities, but that’s not really my style.

I did hook up with one person this year. Eric was in my English class first semester, and he had a whole crew of friends. I had thought that his friends were my friends, but when we broke up, I learned the truth. We’d dated for pretty much the whole school year and we’d only broken up a couple weeks ago. I’d caught him cheating on me with his best friend’s girlfriend. That was a hot mess, let me tell you. I was still recovering from that and I didn’t really even have anyone to talk to about it.

The wave of nausea I’d been experiencing for the past hour passed and I jumped off my bed and looked in the mirror. I wasn’t wearing any makeup and there were bags under my eyes. My whole face looked a little gray. It was not attractive at all. My hair was messy, and I realized I hadn’t combed it that day. My bangs hung greasy against my forehead. I had a big old zit on the side of my nose. I was wearing a grubby, old tank top without a bra, but my chest is small enough that I can get away with that. The tank top was paired with a faded pair of sweat pants. I would say I wasn’t looking my best, but I didn’t really look any worse than I had for the past week or so. I would have blamed exams, but I think the breakup had had a lot more to do with it than the tests had.

If I was going to have coffee with Adam, I was going to have to do a serious clean up. He remembered me from my glory days. As sad as it was to admit, I’d reached the peak of my life when I was fifteen. I’d had a whole crew of friends, my grades were decent, and I’d had a great boyfriend. And I’d been sane, which is something I didn’t feel I could say anymore. I wanted him to see me as close to that person as I could possibly get. I might not be able to regain my sanity, but I could regain my looks.

I needed to get started right away.

 And these children who spit on you As they try to change their worlds Are immune to your consultations They’re quite aware of what they’re going through David Bowie, Changes

Mallory

I woke up my first morning after my freshman year of college to the sound of Byron’s girlfriend singing.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love Haley, I really do. I’ve known her for years and she’s grown from a bright, sociable kid to a lovely young woman. But I had had classes at nine am every week day for the past semester and all through May term. All I wanted on my first day home was to sleep in.

I’ve been living away from home for quite a while now—more than seven years. There are all those clichés about coming home, you know: home is where the heart is, there’s no place like home. Etc., etc. But really, when you’re an adult used to a certain set of circumstances, coming home is quite frankly awful.

Going to boarding school was absolutely amazing. I was free to be who I was without any preconceived notions, and I was also free to change who I was without anyone judging me. But college has been even more liberating, simply because we’re all adults and for the most part, the only rules we have to follow are the laws of the land and the rules of society. I have no curfew and I can do whatever I want within my dorm room as long as it doesn’t get me arrested or kicked out of school.

Home is in no way like that. I don’t think my parents realize that I had my eighteenth birthday over a year ago. While I have no intention of smoking pot or drinking in my bedroom— I don’t do drugs and I’m not really into the drinking scene, though I’ve been known to have a beer or two—it would be nice for my parents to respect my privacy and adulthood. I just don’t think it’s going to happen any time soon.

And I guess if I think about it, living with the Pikes is similar in some ways to living in a college dorm. There are a lot of people around, some of whom are very loud and/or very annoying. There’s no such thing as quiet time at the Pikes unless it’s between 1 am and 6 am, and even that’s not a guarantee.

So when Haley started singing, I just gave up on sleep. I half-way got dressed—basically, I put some undergarments on under my pajamas and made sure I was dressed at least as well as the people in my 9 am classes—and headed down to the kitchen.

I stopped in the doorway and looked at everyone. It was morning on a Saturday, so some family members were still sleeping and others were already gone for the day. Claire was frying some eggs in a frying pan. She’d pulled her hair up into a pony tail on the top of her head and had obviously slept in it that way from the way it was falling down. Adam was sitting on the counter, eating a sandwich of some variety. He was dressed for the day and looked like he was about to jump off the counter and head off to some activity or another.

Nick was sitting at the table, eating a bowl of cereal. He too was dressed, but I doubted he was going anywhere. He hadn’t said two words to me since I came home, but I’ve already heard from Claire that she thinks he’s going to be the Pike family member to always live with Mom and Dad—the creepy relative who lives in the basement.

The only other people in the kitchen were Jordan and Haley. She was obviously dressed, as she’d come from down the block. Her hair, which she’d always worn short, was longer than I remembered and she’d pulled most of it into a ponytail, with the loose pieces on the side tucked behind her ears. She was standing so that she was mostly turned away from me, tucking dishes into the dishwasher, and she was still singing. I didn’t recognize the song, but obviously Claire did, as she was humming along here and there.

Jordan was sitting on another part of the counter. He wasn’t eating—he was watching Haley. And I don’t just mean watching; I mean out and out staring. It was almost creepy, but at the same time, I didn’t really blame him. She was really belting it out and the song was beautiful.

“Will they miss me when I’m gone?” Haley finished up the song and closed the dishwasher. Jordan jumped off the counter and went to her. She flashed him a smile and he kissed the top of her head.

And that’s when I got horribly confused.

Claire, who had been eating her eggs straight from the pan with her fingers, turned around to say something to Jordan and spotted me in the doorway. “Mally!” she shouted.

I smiled faintly at her. “Morning, everyone,” I called casually to the room as a whole. One skill I’ve acquired in all my years at school is not showing surprise outwardly. I turned to Haley specifically. “That was beautiful. I didn’t know you had such a nice voice. I could hear you from my bedroom.”

She instantly looked guilty. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” she asked remorsefully.

I shook my head. “No, I was already awake,” I lied.

I might be good at faking casual, but apparently I am a terrible liar. “That’s a yes,” Jordan said with a smirk. He grabbed Haley’s hand and pulled her toward him and away from the conversation. “We’re going for a bike ride if Mom and Dad ask,” he said generically. “Adam, you want to come join us?”

Adam had finished his sandwich and was now eating a pickle. Sometimes, I swear my brothers were garbage disposals in a past life. “No thanks,” he called with his mouth full, “Robby, Shane, Scott and I are playing two on two down at the elementary school. I’m actually just waiting for them to come pick me up. Surprise, surprise, they’re late.” Just then a car horn honked on the street. Adam looked at his watch and faked being shocked. “Well, only ten minutes late. That’s a record in being on time for Robby. Catch you guys later, okay?” He, Jordan and Haley all left the room together, Haley and Jordan still holding hands.

Claire left her still-hot pan in the sink. “I’m going to take a shower while the bathroom’s free,” she called. “I’ll wash my dishes when I get back.”

That left me alone with Nick, who was still very slowly eating his cereal. I saw that he’d left out the milk and a box of Shredded Wheat, so I grabbed a bowl and joined him. “What’s the deal with Haley?” I asked as poured cereal into my bowl.

Nick may not be the most social person in the world, but you can have a conversation with him—if you start it. “What do you mean?” he asked.

I poured some milk. “You know what I mean. Her and Jordan, Nick.”

He looked at me funny. “What’s to tell? They’ve been going out since spring break.”

“But….” I trailed off for a moment as Nick took another bite. “What about her and Byron?”

For a moment, I thought Nick was going to laugh, but he caught himself. “Oh,” he said, looking surprised, “He didn’t tell you yet.”

Sometimes, Nick is so cryptic it’s not even funny. “Tell me what?” I asked.

I wasn’t sure exactly what the look on his face was. I think part of it was a feeling of having said too much. “Well, it’s not my story to tell. Let’s just say that Byron was not dating Haley. He would have never dated Haley.”

What the hell? Any time I’d seen Byron in the last three years, Haley hadn’t been far away. Either the two of them were together, or he had just come from Haley’s, or he was going to Haley’s. I rarely saw him with anyone but Haley.

An image began to form in my mind. I remembered Mom talking about how the boys at school were teasing Byron and calling him names in the locker room. I remembered being home last year when Adam and Jordan left for the prom and Byron sat up in his room with a book. I remembered Adam and Jordan commenting on the “hotness” of some photos of my friends getting ready to go to a dance, while Byron just said they seemed nice. “Oh,” I said in sudden understanding.

Nick nodded. “Yup. But if he asks, you didn’t find out from me. There’s about 30 copies of an old newspaper over there; read that and then you ‘accidentally’ found out, okay?” His cereal had turned to mush and it looked like he’d given up on it; he dumped the leftovers into the sink and added his bowl to the dishwasher. Without saying goodbye, he ran upstairs.

I left my cereal on the table and put the milk away before it soured. While I was up, I grabbed a newspaper from the stack Nick had indicated and started turning the pages. Nick was right; there were at least ten copies of the same paper in the stack. I returned to my seat, still looking for the article that Nick seemed to think would clear things up.

Finally I found it, and it confirmed the ‘ah-ha’ moment I’d had earlier. The picture showed two boys—one of whom could only have been Byron—and the accompanying text was all about how Byron had invited a boy to the prom. The surprise, I think, was the identity of the other boy.

Jeff Schafer was the younger brother of an old friend of mine. I hadn’t seen or spoken to his sister Dawn much since I’d gone off to boarding school, because she and Jeff lived in California and we were just never around at the same time. We used to belong to a club back in the day and whoever was around and free got together about once a month, but Dawn hadn’t come visit Connecticut since around the times the get-togethers started. I’d heard something about a giant fight with her stepsister, who’s also a friend of mine. I thought about calling Jeff’s stepsister and asking her about it, but I didn’t. I wanted to talk to Byron first.

And I got that opportunity sooner than I expected. As I was reading the article, Byron appeared in the kitchen, quietly enough that I didn’t notice him. He was wearing his pajama bottoms and not much else, and his eyes were half open. He grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl and stuffed some in his mouth. While he chewed on that, he popped some bread in the toaster.

Byron turned to get some peanut butter and spotted me reading the newspaper. He blushed down to the roots of his hair but didn’t say a word. I folded the paper—I’d finished the article and didn’t want to embarrass him any more than necessary. “Morning, Byron,” I said as he poured himself some orange juice.

His face twitched, and I couldn’t tell if he was about to say something or if he was trying not to cry. Maybe a little of each. Just then, his toast popped up and he used that as an excuse to drop eye contact and turn around. Finally, he brought his food and juice to the table and sat across from me. After he spent a moment futzing with his plate, he looked up at me. “So…” he began, fading out.

I put him out of his misery. “I read the article,” I said, stating the obvious.

Byron made a sour-lemon face. “I hate that article,” he said, and then took an angry bite of his peanut butter toast.

I thought about that while he took a few more bites. The article mostly quoted Adam and Jeff. Haley was also in there, but it looked to me like she’d made a single statement and then run like hell. Byron obviously hadn’t spoken to the reporter at all. “What’s a matter with it?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Publicity,” he sighed and took another bite. “A lot of people I’ve never spoken to in my life have come over to talk to me since it came out. Most people have been nice, but not everyone.”

I eyed him critically. One thing that you need to know about Byron is that he claims to be an introvert and to prefer to be alone. But when he does decide to be social, he knows just what to say and makes friends easily. I personally think that he just rejects others before they reject him, and that’s really why he spends so much time alone. “So what kind of ‘not so nice’ have you encountered?” I asked.

Byron returned the critical eye. “Nothing too bad…yet. Just some people who want to quote the Bible at me, mostly.”

I laughed. “I’ve found that you can never argue with the Bible. Just nod and walk away.”

“Yeah, that’s about right.”

He had finished his breakfast already and he took his plate and my bowl over to the sink. I was afraid he’d leave the room before I was done talking with him, so I went ahead and blurted out my other thought. “I’m proud of you, you know.”

Byron turned around. “What for?” he asked suspiciously.

“For being so brave about this. For coming out so publicly.” He snorted. “No, really. What if some younger guy reads that article and feels more secure about who he is because of it?”

“So I’m a role model,” he said sarcastically. He slammed the dishwasher shut, harder than I think he meant to do, and the fight went out of him with it. “I don’t look at it that way,” he said quietly. “I don’t think I’m brave. Mal, it took me some four years to accept who I am and another four years to tell a single other person. Doesn’t sound like a brave person to me; sounds like a chicken shit.”

I looked him over. “Hey, little brother,” I said, squeezing his shoulder, “Think about this for a second: Bravery isn’t the lack of fear. It’s being afraid and doing something anyway.”

Byron’s lips twitched into a small smile. “What book did you steal that quote from?” he asked.

I laughed. “Probably a whole bunch of them.”

“You took psychology last term, didn’t you?” I blushed. He was right. “Anyway, I don’t think it matters much. I am gay. I have always been gay. I will always be gay. It doesn’t matter if people know or not, but it’s easier now that I have some people on my side.”

I smiled at the resolve. There was no going back into the closet for my brother. “So, how was prom?”

A dreamy look passed over his face for a moment. “It was great. Jeff apparently loves to dance. He didn’t want to sit down at all.”

“He probably just wanted to spend as much time as possible with you.”

Byron gave a proper smile at that one. “He’s graduating today and flying in tomorrow.”

The shower had stopped upstairs and I headed for the doorway, determined to be the next one in the bathroom. “Summer of romance for you this year?”

Now, his grin was massive. “Stranger things have happened.”