Ask High School Jedediah/Octavius

((A compilation of all the entries on the HSAU Jedtavius ask blog. Reads as a consecutive story from beginning to end.))

Teddy, Sac, Nicky, and Mr. Perfect-Hair sit down silently, all looking at Jed and Octy.

“Oh, for god’s sake-” / “Seriously-”

Both Jed and Octy move to yank the other into a kiss, just to show off in front of the rest of the group. But as both of them are trying, they both miss, foreheads cracking together.

“Ow, fuck,” Jed mutters, rubbing his head.

((oh my god you guys you have no idea how long ive been saving that last ask T.T

the ending wasn’t just a cheap shot to excuse me from having to write more; I started the blog with the intention of having this ending, as it was based on this conversation with tinyotphell 

thanks to everyone who followed, sent prompts, or liked/reblogged any of my posts!! it brings a smile to my face every time I remember that this little blog got up to 83 followers

this blog will stay up so that anyone who wants to can read through jed and octy’s adventures through high school and maybe imagine that the last post never happened hahaa and I will also probably end up putting all of this up onto AO3 at some point, to make it easier to read

It’s been a year,now.

Jedediah sits inthe grass, staring blankly at the block of marble in front of him. He doesn’tknow what to say. It’s been a year, now, to the day. It should feel different,somehow, but it doesn’t. It feels like every other night he’s spent in front ofthis damn thing.

Something shufflesin the grass next to him and he turns to see-

“Teddy,” he says,quietly. His friend smiles sadly, nodding.

“I knew you’d behere.”

“Yeah?”

A moment passes.And then-

“He’d be proud ofyou.”

Jedediah doesn’tsay anything to that.

“Jed.”

Still nothing. Heknows what Teddy’s going to say and he doesn’t want to listen. He’s heard itbefore- from his friends, from his parents, from his friends’ parents- and hedoesn’t care.

He shakes his head.

“Jed, I know youdon’t think-”

“I’m not gonnaforget about him,” Jedediah says, voice thick. “I’m not, Teddy.”

“You don’t have toforget,” Teddy says quietly. He scoots closer, puts a hand on Jedediah’sshoulder. “But sooner or later you’re going to have to move on.”

“I ain’t moving on,Teddy.”

“He’d have wantedyou to.”

Heknows Teddy’s expecting him to burst out with tohell with what he would have wanted; I’ll never know what he would have wantedbecause he ain’t here, but he doesn’t. Jedstares at the marble stone sat in the grass, tucks his knees up to his chest,wraps his arms around them. The ring digs into his finger, begins to rub theskin raw. The necklace beats against his chest silently.

“I know,” he says.

o0O0o

Octavius is late.

Jedediah taps hisfoot on the floor, irritated. His Octy’s never late. What’s going on?

He looks at theclock- one minute until the late bell; it’s first period, he thinks. Maybe Octyjust slept in. Yeah, that’s it. Any minute, Octy’s gonna come running in allred faced and out of breath and pleading to Ms. Orsay not to mark him latebecause he’s never been late before and it’ll show on his permanent record andplease it won’t happen again-

The bell rings.

Jedediah raps hisfingertips over the table. The seat next to him is empty, and it’s never beenempty before. Octy’s never missed a single class, not one. Even if he had tocome armed with a box of tissues and a bottle of DayQuil, he’s always beenthere.

What the hell’sgoing on?

By the time fiveminutes have ticked by, he’s lost track of the lesson. Granted, as it’s firstperiod, most of the class has as well. Ms. Orsay tries valiantly, but there’snothing that’ll bring him back to the present- nor the rest of the class,really. All the seniors are gone; they all graduated a week ago, the ceremony’stonight. Plus, since it’s the first week of June, nearly everyone’s moreinterested in the sunshine and the summer breezes than they are about English.

And even Ms. Orsayseems off. She gives the empty seat next to him a glance every so often, thenlooks away- and he can almost see some emotion in her face each time, but hecan’t quite make it out.

When theannouncements tick on and there’s nothing but static for a good five secondsinstead of the national anthem, Jedediah knows something is wrong.

Somethingis catastrophically wrong.

“Jedediah Smith, please come to the MainOffice,” the voice says, andJedediah has never run faster in his life.

He tears out of theclassroom, abandoning his bag, and sprints down the hallway. He ignores thebuzz that billows in his absence, instead making a beeline for the main office.The hall leading to the double doors has never seemed longer, and it’s likehe’s stuck in a nightmare, unable to gain speed even though his legs arespinning and his feet are pounding into the ground again and again and again-

Heopens the door and looks.

Octavius’sparents look back.

Helooks between the two of them helplessly, looks under their legs but sees notrace of-

“Octy?”he says, and his voice is so little and so broken.

“Octavius,”Octavius’s mother says, “was walking to school this morning.” Something coldand sharp slams through his chest. “He was-” She stops, collects herself.Octavius’s father pats her on the back, rubs her shoulder. She takes a breath,lets it out, looks at him. “He was hit by a truck.”

Jedediah’sknees turn to rubber. He sways on the spot, grabs onto the nearest chair.

“He’sin the hospital right now,” Octavius’s dad says, taking over. Octavius’s momholds onto his arm, clenching her eyes shut. “He’ll go in for surgery in a fewhours, but. He asked for you.”

“He’sokay?” Jedediah croaks.

Octavius’sdad looks first at the floor and then at him. “He’s sustained a lot ofinjuries; surgery is his only chance.”

“Butit’ll work, won’t it?” he asks, looking between the two of them.

Neitherof them answer.

o0O0o

“Twominutes,” a voice says, and he’s led through the doors.

“Octy,” he says, seeing Octavius from across the room. He fallsinto the chair beside his bed, eyes racing back and forth, back and forth, overhis body. There are bandages everywhere; Jed’s no medical man, but he knowsthat this is bad. Jedfinds his hand- one of the only parts of him that looks to have gotten awayunscathed- and covers it with both of his own. Octavius’s fingers curl uparound his hand, slowly but surely.

“Hey,”says a tiny, tiny voice.

Oneof Octavius’s eyes is covered with a square bandage, so he finds the other.

“Hey,”he says back, voice cracked and broken but not nearly as small as Octy’s.

“Youcame.” Octavius gazes up at him as if he’s the only light left in the world.

“CourseI came.” Jedediah squeezes his hand. “What’re you doin’ in here, Octy?”

Octaviusstares at him in confusion, unable to construct a response. Maybe he has aconcussion, Jed thinks- Octy always has to have the last word.

“I’msupposed to be the one lyin’ in the hospital bed,” he says, blinking backsomething that’s making it hard for him to focus his eyes. “An’ you’re the onewho’s supposed to tell me off for bein’ dumb.”

“Jed-”

“You’regonna be okay,” Jedediah says, shaking his head. “I promise- you’re gonna go inand those people are gonna fix you up, and you’ll be good as new.”

“Jedediah.”

“Youan’ I are gonna go back to class an’ you’re gonna help me, all right? I ain’tgonna pass Ms. Orsay’s without you, I-”

“Jed,listen to me.”

AndOctavius is smiling and no that’s not right why is he smiling stop it Octy stopit stop it stop it-

“Jed.”

Jedediahcloses his mouth. He can taste the salt of his tears on his lips, licks itaway. He realizes his hands are shaking as they hold Octavius’s. Octy’s thumbrubs over his own, gently, surely- rubs over the ring. Jedediah blinks, realizeshe’s got to say something, he’s got to say it now or else he might never get the chance to-

“Time’sup,” the voice says from the doorway. His hands tighten, knuckles turning asickly green.

“Youstay out of trouble,” Octavius whispers, not taking his eyes off of Jedediah.“Promise me, yeah?”

“I-”

“Promiseme you’ll keep out of trouble, Jed.”

“Ipromise,” Jedediah says, nodding. He blinks, and tears splatter onto Octavius’sface. “I promise. Octy, I-”

He’spushed away by the Voice from the door, and a set of hands land on hisshoulders and they smell like Octavius’s house and will he ever smell thatagain and Octavius is being wheeled away and out the door and he can do nothingbut watch and oh god he’d never said it-

Thedoors close, and Octavius whispers out of sight.

o0O0o

Octy’slate.

Jedtaps his foot on the carpet floor, grumbling under his breath. He raps his pendown over and over and over on his books, leaving tiny dents with each hit.It’s not as if he has to pay for it- the school’s got a shitty budget sothey’re stuck with these old-ass books that have ripped pages and dicks drawnon the side and-

Thebell rings, and he remembers.

Octaviusis never late. Every once in a while, he’ll slip in seconds before the bellrings and mutter something about the lights being slow or his alarm notworking, but he always gets here before the bell. But Jedediah looks up at theclock and knows, stomach sinking, that Octavius is never coming through thatdoor.

Hedrops his pen on the floor but doesn’t bother picking it up, hands shaking toomuch to even grasp at it. He folds his arms on the table and buries his head.

He’ssupposed to be ready, now. They’d let him take a whole week off of school; he’ssupposed to be ready. He’s supposed to look up at the board and copy down theassignment and ignore the fact that the chair to his right is empty, he’ssupposed to walk home alone and not think about Octy’s voice and how he’s nevergoing to hear it again, not ever. He’s supposed to make it through the lastweek of school, supposed to finish what he started that September-

Hedoesn’t realize he’s crying until something in the bottom of his stomach pulls and he can’t breathe and he sucksin air down his throat and into his lungs and coughs it right back up and-

“Jed.”

Heshakes his head vigorously, sitting up. “I’m fine.”

“Jed,you don’t have to be here.”

Therest of the classroom sits in uncomfortable silence, just watching as he tearshimself to pieces. Ms. Orsay hovers above him.

“Fine,”he repeats. “I’m fine.” His stomach twinges again, a short tug that leaves himbreathless and gasping, like he’s underwater but he can breathe but his lungsdon’t know that and the water’s filling him up but no matter how much hestruggles the air is still there, the air is still there, the air won’t leave-

“I’mgoing to call your mother, all right?”

Henods weakly.

His mumcomes by to pick him up ten minutes later, and he doesn’t say anything as shedrives him through the streets and into the driveway. He marches up to his room,ignores her offers for food, and lies on his bed, staring at the crack in hisceiling.

Heputs Octy’s cell on silent and calls it a dozen times, commits the voicemailmessage to memory.

This is Octavius, I can’t answer thephone right now. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as Ic- Jed, put that down you’re scaring the cat-

Beep.

“Hi.”

Thenothing blasts through the speaker and into his ear. He ignores it.

“It’s,um. It’s me.”

Hewaits. Any second, now, any second. Octy’s voice is going to come through thespeaker. He listens as hard as he can for the slightest shred of sound.

“Imiss you.”

Cmon,Octy, pick up.

“Comeback.”

Anysecond.

“Imiss you so much, boi, you’ve got no idea.”

Please

“Octy-”

It’shis name that does it. Jed sucks in a breath, clenches his eyes shut. The line’sas dead as it will ever be, full of nothing but static. There’s no one on theother end of the line because-

“I’msorry I never told you.” He holds the phone to his ear, as if it’ll bring Octycloser. “I wanted to, I swear, I guess I just… forgot. I dunno.” He sniffs.“Dunno if I would have told you, even if I’d remembered. I do, I mean. I do. Ido. I do.”

Hehates this.

“Imiss you,” he says again, because he can’t stop thinking it. “I miss you.”

The linesays nothing, and it never will.

“I’msorry.” He slides his eyes shut. “Goodbye, Octy.”

Hepresses the end call button and letsthe phone drop to the floor.

o0O0o

There’snot much his teachers can do- they excuse him for about half of the assignmentshe misses in the last two weeks of school, but they can’t legally give himcredit for things he doesn’t do. So his junior year grades dip a little, but hestill manages to pass all of his classes- even English (though he suspects Ms.Orsay might have altered a few of his grades out of pity.)

Hehates her.

Forthe first few weeks of summer, his phone never shuts up. The whole group- Sac,Teddy, Lance, Custer, and Nicky- want to know how he’s doing, if he wants tomeet up, if he needs anything. Coach Daley even calls him one time and leaves athree minute voicemail asking if he wants help. He ignores them, and by thethird week, he doesn’t hear so much as a text.

Hegets a job bagging groceries at the local supermarket and hates every minute ofit. He spends almost every penny on flowers for Octy, spends every Saturdaysitting by the headstone, reading. He finishes The Great Gatsby again bythe second week of summer and moves on to TheThings They Carried, then The Catcherin the Rye, then back to The GreatGatsby.

Sometimeshe reads it aloud, just like Octy used to.

Butmostly, he doesn’t.

o0O0o

OneTuesday, he breaks a carton of eggs. The cashier is apologetic but not upset.The customer doesn’t say anything, but he can tell she’s more than a littleangry.

Hecomes home and doesn’t talk to anyone for an hour, just pulls out the carton ofice cream and scoops himself out a bowl, because he needs it. He retreats intohis room and buries himself in Netflix, trying to ignore the world around him.

“Hey,you left an empty milk carton in the sink,” his dad greets him, when he’shalfway through the third season of MyLittle Pony. He groans and makes to get up off the bed.

“Ugh,fine,” he says, because he really really doesn’t want an argument right now.

“No,no, that’s all right,” his dad says, shrugging. “I’ll take care of it. You cansit on your ass and stuff sugar into your mouth. Go back to watching girlshows.”

Heshuts the door with a smug smile, leaving Jedediah alone.

Jedwants to break his computer. He wants to throw the bowl of ice cream at hisdoor and watch the porcelain shatter. He wants to punch through his window. Hewants to-

Hetakes his pillow, buries his face into it, and screams as loudly as he can.

He’spathetic. Here he is, screaming into a fucking pillow. He can’t watch hisstupid show now, he can’t eat his ice cream. He can’t talk to his father, hecan’t rant to his mother, he can’t rant to Octy-

Hescreams again, until his head begins to go numb.

It’sthe doctor’s fault. Octy was supposed to go in and come out good as new, shewas supposed to fix him. He wants tofind that stupid doctor and punch her in her stupid face, he wants to break herhands and ruin her career, make her know how it feels to have something sheloves brutally ripped away from her-

Hewants the truck driver (who had paid in full for the funeral and the headstone)to walk to work one day and accidentally walk under a bus. No, he wants thetruck driver’s husband to walk undera bus. No. No, he wants the truck driver to drive the bus that her husbandwalks under. Then she’ll know.

Hewants the whole world to just shut up forfive fucking seconds.

o0O0o

Hismum calls the doctor and lets Jed talk to her. He spends twenty minuteslistening to her explain the details; exactly what they’d had to do and whythey hadn’t been able to save him. He listens to her tell him, in the mostsickeningly sympathetic voice he’s ever heard, that she was very sorry and thatshe’s dealt with this sort of thing before and would he like a recommendedtherapist?

Hehangs up without thanking her.

o0O0o

WhenSeptember comes again, he goes back.

Hespends a week in his chosen classes before meeting with his counselor andswapping into two AP classes, arranging for a tutor, and setting up volunteerhour opportunities.

o0O0o

In September,as he walks home with his newest textbook under his arm, he realizes that ifhe’d offered Octy a ride to school that morning, he’d still be alive.

Hespends the rest of the walk thinking whatif.

What if he’d come over thenight before and stayed over?

What if Jedediah had gottenup early and convinced him to skip school?

What if he’d chosen adifferent route that day?

What if the truck driver hadchosen a different route?

What if the truck driver’sparents had never met?

What if there had been adifferent doctor?

What if Jed had walked toOcty’s instead?

What if Jed had been hit bythe truck?

Withevery step he takes, his mind explodes another magnitude higher in thought. Outof all the possibilities, out of all the millions and trillions ofpossibilities for that day, why had the universe chosen this one?

Whycouldn’t it have chosen another one? Any otherone? Why couldn’t Jed have been the one under the truck instead? Would theuniverse have been satisfied, then?

Impossibly,he thinks-

If I got by a car today, would it be afair trade?

Hemakes it to his house without incident and never thinks of what-if’s again.

o0O0o

In February,he quits the football team “to focus on my studies.”

Hespends the extra hours in his schedule hidden away in the graveyard, frostcovering the grass, trees barren and dead, bent over his book. His eyes glossover the words without reading them, snap to the pictures and diagrams, tryingto understand what they mean.

Helooks at the gravestone and imagines the work it must have taken to make. Heimagines the kid stuck with the summer job, digging up this grave. He remembersthe funeral, remembers how the church was decorated with red ribbons and aprofessionally framed photo of Octy. He remembers the stupid coffin and thebeautiful wood and the flowers and shit, how much did it all cost?

Hethinks about his mother, and about how he’s barely spoken to her since lastJune. He thinks about his father, and about how hard he works. He thinks aboutall the dinners he’s spent silent, about all the time he’s wasted alone in hisroom.

He’sbeen a horrible son.

Shouldhe even bother trying to fix anything? He’s off the football team, his ninth,tenth, and eleventh grade marks are terrible, he hasn’t spoken to his friendsin days- he spends most lunches alone in the back of the library, tucked in thesoundproof practice rooms, or in the back of Mr. Ahkmenrah’s classroom- andhe’s been terrible to his parents.

Promise me you’ll keep out of trouble,Jed.

o0O0o

Hesets his tray down next to Lancelot’s the next day and watches as the wholegroup goes silent and stares at him.

Wordlessly,he takes his plastic fork and shoves his state-issued mac and cheese around onhis tray before stuffing a forkful into his mouth. None of them say a word, buton Lancelot’s other side, Custer breaks the silence by rummaging around in hisbag and pulling out a PB&J sandwich. The rest of the table relaxes,accepting the fact that Jed’s back with them.

Onhis other side, Teddy smiles shyly and puts a hand on his arm.

Andhe leans into the touch, without control. It’s been so long since he’s touched anyone- his parents, his friends, Octy-that he’s forgotten how much he craves simple human contact. Teddy seems torealize this, because before Jed knows what’s happening, he’s being pulled intoa hug. And then Lancelot’s hugging him, too, and that’s Sac walking up behindhim, and-

Andhe smiles.

o0O0o

InApril, he sits through his two AP tests.

Twomonths later, he graduates with flying colors.

Hewalks down the aisle, gives a nod to each of his teachers, and sits down nextto the rest of his class. The band plays as they march off the stage and acrossthe field.

Heholds the diploma and imagines it burning the skin off his hands.

Thatnight is spent crouched in the middle of the graveyard.

“Idid it,” he says, setting the diploma down in front of the headstone. “I madeit, Octy, just like you told me to. Just like you always wanted.”

Theheadstone doesn’t say anything.

“Okay,so they ain’t the best grades in the business,” he continues, shrugging. “But Ipassed.”

Abovehim, a robin lands on a branch, ruffles its feathers. Jedediah watches thegravestone for a second before brightening, remembering.

“An’hey, I brought you a surprise.” He fishes around in his bag until he pulls outthe letter. He flips up the broken seal, extracts the piece of paper. “Best liberalarts college in the state- don’t ask me how, I got no clue. But they liked my portfolio.An’ I’ve got a scholarship.” He sets the letter in his lap.

Abreeze trickles through the headstones, swirls across the grass.

o0O0o

It’s been a year,now.

They sit in frontof the grave together, they watch the marble. If Jedediah squints hard enough,he can almost make out a reflection of the stars on the stone. He remembersstudying for an astronomy quiz, remembers studying for so many other things,remembers-

remembers-

“It weren’t fair.”

He buries his headbehind his knees, knocking his hat off to the grass. And before he knows whathe’s doing, tears have already begun to soak into his jeans.

“It weren’t fair,”he says again, voice wobbling on the second word.

“I know,” Teddysays, and he feels arms wrap around him. “I know.”

“I never got to- Inever got to tell him, you know that?” he says, lifting his head up and lookingat the marble as if it could understand him.

“He knew.”

“He- he kepttelling me stuff, I don’t even remember- and I just kept sayin’ ‘I’, Teddy. Ibarely said his name, I just-”

Jed laughs- ahorrible snot filled burst that quickly dissolves into a sob. Chest and lungsfluttering, he struggles to keep from actually crying in front of-

Teddy. In front ofTeddy.

As soon as hemanages to get his breathing back under control, Teddy eases off. They sit sideby side.

“Why are you here?”he asks.

“Why are you?”Teddy counters.

“You know why I’mhere- Teddy, just answer me.”

Teddy sighs. “Ijust… wanted to see if you were okay.”

Jed laughs again,moving the lump in his throat back up an inch or two. “Okay. Yeah. I’m jus’great.”

“You know what Imean.” Teddy crosses his legs. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t do anything-”

“Do anything dumb.”Jed finishes for him. “No. Octy wouldnt’a wanted that.”

They stay at thegrave for the rest of the night. Teddy, relieved that Jedediah isn’t going todo any further damage to himself, doesn’t ask any more questions. And the nightcrawls on.

When at last theindigo sky breaks free of its purple shell and the yolk of a sun melts out ontothe trees and the grass, Teddy stands. Jedediah looks up to see his friendholding out a hand.

“Smile,my boy,” Teddy says, looking first at the grave and then at Jedediah- andJedediah knows now that he has to move on. That he can’t live like thisforever. That he’s going to grow older and older, he’s going to move away andgo to college and learn something new and the memory of Octavius is going tofade until at last he’ll forget the sound of his voice, the shape of his face,the feel of his skin. He won’t forget- he’llnever forget- but he can’t livelike this.

“It’s sunrise.”

Jedediah takes hishand, stands. He walks from the grave, through the gate, and out into the restof the world.

Of course they go to prom together.

There isn’t even a spot of drama- no one asks either of them out beforehand, Cassius doesn’t say a word about it, they buy their tickets and submit the same song suggestions to the list, they get matching outfits (Jed borrows his dad’s old suit and Octy settles for a suit jacket and a blue skirt that falls to his feet in waves).

Jed lives closer to the school, so they meet there before going.

“Hello, Octavius,” Jed’s mother greets, as Octy shows up five minutes before they agreed. Of course he does.

“Hi, Ms. Smith,” he says, taking her hand and shaking it. Jed rolls his eyes.

“Hey Octy,” he says, poking his head out of the bathroom. “Make yourself at home, there’s some leftover cake by the fridge- I’ve just got to fix my hair up.”

“Yeah, you haven’t quite reached the ‘dead cat’ look yet,” Octy calls after him, then snorts.

Jed turns back to the mirror and is about to reach into the drawer for that thing of defining whip his mother uses when she wants to look nice for company when he hears his father’s voice.

Ah, shit. He’d forgotten dad was home.

“Hi, Mr. Smith,” he hears Octy say, and it dawns on him that his dad’s never actually met Octy before.

“Hello…” his dad says, trailing off. Jed can just imagine him looking Octy up and down, judging.

“Octavius,” Octy says, all smiles.

“Right. You’re.”

“His date. Boyfriend.” Octavius sounds so sure of himself, Jed can’t help but smile.

“Yeah.”

“He said there was cake?”

“Yes- it was the cat’s birthday yesterday. He wanted to, ah, celebrate.”

Jed’s ears burn.

“Really.”

“Yes, really. He loves that thing.”

The bathroom door pushes open apparently of its own accord, and Jed looks down to see Henry, looking up at him expectantly.

“What do you want?” he asks her, frowning. “I’m busy.”

She rubs her head against the bathroom wall and snakes herself between his feet, purring.

“I don’t have food here. I’m not even on the toilet- what are you doing here-”

“She’s pretty cute,” he hears Octavius say, along with the sound of a plate and a fork clanging together.

“So,” his father says, slowly. “How long have you and him been…”

“Together?” Octavius finishes for him. “Since, uh, November. I think. It might have been September?”

Yeah, come to think of it, it has been a while. Since Christmas, at least. And since Thanksgiving. Crap, Jed realizes, they’ve been together for almost the whole school year. He’s never been with anyone this long before.

“Huh. That’s nice.”

What?

“Yeah, it is,” Octy says.

“So what do you like to, uh, do? Jed’s on the football team.”

“Oh, I know. I’m on the cheerleading squad, we go to games together.”

“Huh. And you like that?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s hard, we’ve got practice almost every day. But it’s worth it.”

“Right. So. Do you. Do you share classes?”

“I’m in his English class, first period, but nothing after that. We eat lunch together, though.”

“Good.”

They seem to have run out of topics. An Awkward Silence descends over them, and Jed decides to put them out of their misery.

“There we go,” he says, loudly coming out of the bathroom. “All done.”

“You look nice,” his father says, proudly. “All dolled up like that.”

“There’s the dead cat,” Octavius coos. “I missed it.”

“My hair does not look like a dead cat.”

“It does, a little.”

“Mom.”

o0O0o

The football team is all too exhaustedto talk on the bus ride home, as are the cheerleaders. There’s a static sort ofroar as the bus rolls along towards home, making it had for Jed to hear anyonebut the person directly next to him.

Luckily, that person happens to beOctavius.

They’re about a minute onto thefreeway before Jedediah actually musters up the courage to speak.

“So, um,” he says, and Octavius looksaway from the window at him.

“Yes?” Octavius’s eyes are full ofsomething- mirth, it might be. “What?”

Jed raises an eyebrow. “You knowwhat.”

“I know you came in your pants afterabout fifteen seconds of-”

“Shhhh!”

“Oh, come on, Jed, no one can hearus.” Octavius rolls his eyes.

“Whatever.” He’s burning red now-which is not fantastic, because they’re on a bus full of people and they’vestill got at least an hour left to go and he does not want to be overheated.

Octavius sighs and puts a hand on hisleg.

Jed’s mind slips into overdrive,repeating a mantra of oh god please notnow Octy what the hell are you doing are you sERIOUS, but Octavius justfinds his hand and grabs it.

“Jed,” he says, voice barely audibleover the din of the bus as it roars over the freeway.

Jed squeezes his hand back.

“I’m sorry,” Octavius says, looking athis lap. “For being- you were just trying to help.” He shakes his head.

“I shouldn’a pushed you,” Jed says,shrugging. “I mean, I saw you were uncomfortable, but I jus’ thought if I gaveyou a push, then maybe you’d-”

“You were right.” Octavius shakes hishead again, a little more vigorously. “If Cassius hadn’t shown up, everythingwould have been fine.”

“Cassi- oh, right.”

“Anyway.” Octavius shrugs. “I don’treally care what he thinks anymore.”

“Yeah?” Jed grins. “An’ why’s that?”

“Cause I’ve got you.”

There are only two seats for everyside of the bus, so there’s not a whole lot of room- but Octavius still managesto lean down so his head is resting in Jed’s lap-

And again, the mantra starts up againbecause is Octy going to suck his dickwhat the fuck what the fuck what the fucK-

But Octavius just looks up at him,still smiling. Jed smiles back, and by the look on Octy’s face, that mantra’sas good as printed on his face. He can damn well feel his ears turn red.

“Shut up,” he mutters. Octaviusgiggles, honest to god giggles.

“I brought a headphone splitter,” hesays, reaching under their seats and pulling out his iPod. He hands it to Jed. “Picksomething.”

“Come with me.”

He drags Jed back past the bleachersand into the locker rooms- the ones for their team, that is. And because theirteam’s won, they’re empty.

Good thing, too, because there’s noone around to see- or hear- as he shoves Jed onto the nearest locker and kisseshim soundly. The locker door slams shutewith a bang, rattling the whole set oflockers around them. Underneath his hands, Jed shudders.

He slides a hand under Jed’s jerseyand grabs blindly. He’s still sweaty from the game and Octavius’s hands have notrouble slipping up and down his skin.

Jed’s hands, on the other hand, haveno idea what they’re doing. They grab at Octavius’s jacket, tugging him closerstill.

They break apart with a gasp, Jed’shead thumps back onto the locker andOctavius hovers over him, their noses brushing.

“I.. I…” Jed pants, staring hopelesslyup at him.

“You’re such an idiot,” Octavius says,laughing breathlessly. When Jed doesn’t say anything, he panics. “Are you okaywith this?”

“Yeah,” Jed says, “but I don’tunderstand. Weren’t you mad at me?”

“A little.” Octavius shrugs.

“So why-”

“Shut up.”

He slams Jed back into the locker andkisses him again, this time shoving his leg up between Jed’s. Jed groansunderneath him, eyes squeezing shut. Octavius tugs his bottom lip between histeeth, pulls gently, and is met with another guttural moan from Jed.

He shoves his knee up harder, and Jedjerks underneath him, sliding a few inches down the locker. Octavius dives forhis neck, nips with his teeth, and sucks hard. Jed grits his teeth and hisses,still gripping Octavius’s jacket.

He pulls off and licks the bruise he’sleft, then fastens his lips down again next to it, humming softly.

“Fuck, Octy,” Jed pants underneathhim, and Octavius runs a hand from his chest to his back, slides it down a bitfurther until he finds the waistband of Jed’s football shorts. He runs hisfingers around the rim until he reaches the front- he cups Jed through the skintight shorts and-

“Oh, fuck!” Jed grunts, and slides about a foot down on the locker,grabbing Octavius around the torso. They both fall awkwardly onto the lockerroom floor, Octavius landing on top of Jed.

“You okay?” he asks, looking Jed over.Jed’s gone as red as his uniform, won’t even meet his eye.

“Fine,” Jed says, shaking his head. “Yeah,I’m fine, don’t worry.” He clears his throat and tries to cross his legs.

It isn’t until Octavius sits back onhis feet and actually looks at Jedediah that he realizes exactly what’s happened.Jed’s red football shorts are… well. Soiled is probably the best adjective todescribe it.

“You-”

“Yes.” Jed’s still brightred, arms crossed now. “Yes, all right, shut up.”

“I think it’s adorable.”

Outside the locker room, he hears afaint shout, followed up immediately by a hearty chorus of cheers.

“Guess we’ve got to get on the bus.”

“Are you- are you serious,” Jed says, trying to stand and failing miserably. Heslumps back down on the ground, legs apparently not quite up to the task ofstanding just yet.

“Yeah?” Octavius frowns.

“I can’t go out there like this!” Jedgestures down between his legs, where it’s painfully obvious what they’ve justdone.

“So tie a jacket around you orsomething.”

“I ain’t got a jacket!”

Octavius huffs, crossing his arms. Hehas to admit, he does like the idea of Jed running around with come-stainedfootball shorts, but oh god this is notthe time.

He unfastens the button on his pantsand slides the zip down, then begins to shimmy the pants off his legs.

“Octy, what the hell are you-”

He throws the pants at Jed. “Use mine.”

Jed stares at him.

“I, uh. Brought my old outfit,”Octavius admits, reaching for his bag. He pulls out the old red pleated skirt,because of course he couldn’t bear to leave it behind. It’s just so… red.

Jed lights up like a million suns, theway he always does when he’s happy.

“You can put your shorts in my bag,”Octavius says, sliding the bag across the floor as he steps into the skirt.

“You,” Jedediah says, squeezing offhis football shorts, “are the best boyfriend. In the entire fuckin’ world, youknow that?”

“I might.”

Octy doesn’t talk to him for the restof the week.

They sit apart from each other in Ms.Orsay’s, Jedediah eats lunch in the back of Mr. Kahmunrah’s classroom and noone comes to see him. Octy doesn’t invite him over, he doesn’t invite Octyover. The only texts he gets are from his mother, asking if he wants a ridehome from school.

Octy always seems to leave early fromcheerleading practice, because Jed can never catch him at the end of footballpractice. They’ve got another game soon, timed perfectly with the arrival ofMarch and (hopefully) the reappearance of spring. So he’s got practice nearlyevery day.

He ignores all the work he’s beengiven and speaks less and less in class. His teachers don’t seem to care- Mr.Ahkmenrah doesn’t call on him quite as often anymore, but he seems to be theonly exception. He knows it’s going to take a lot of work to bring his gradesback up but he can’t think of that now, he just has to focus on here and now.

He doesn’t take off his necklace.

o0O0o

The bus ride to the game isn’tterrible, per se. But both the cheer team and the football team share the samebus, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who Jed’s not sitting next to.

Who he is sitting next to, however, isanother matter.

An exchange student from… somewhere(Jed never really bothered to ask), Attila was the sort of type who’d share hislunch money with his friends but bully it out of people he didn’t like. CoachDaley had allowed him on the team only because he had about forty pounds oneveryone else- especially Jed. But luckily, everyone on the team seemed to beimmune to Attila’s wrath, as Jedcalled it.

Apparently, except now.

And it’s worse than having his lightspunched out- of course Attila can’t do anything like that here, not on a bus infront of the coach, not at a game where he’s likely to get suspended fromplaying. So he settles for giving Jed the silent treatment.

Yeah, yeah, it’s immature. But itsucks like hell. Especially when he tries to get the whole “is that the wind”part- because the rest of the team catches on, thinks it’s hilarious, and then ignores him too.

Seriously, what the hell did Jed everdo?

o0O0o

A few days earlier

He hadn’t meant to yell at Jed- it hadjust been a sort of instinctual thing.

Octavius glances over his shoulderdiscreetly- Jed’s head is in his hands. Perfect. Octavius turns back to thefront, hugging himself. Now he’s done it. He’s dressed like an idiot, indetention for maybe the first time in his life, and he’s just yelled at hisboyfriend. His boyfriend who is also his best friend. His boyfriend who hadconvinced him to wear something like this to school.

Octavius rubs his eyes quietly, makinga note to dash out as quickly as possible, so as not to face him.

“Hey,” comes a deep accented voicefrom his left, and he turns to see that exchange student looking at him-looking at him in a very concerned manner.

“Hey, Attila,” he says, and wow, is his voice really that dry?

“You are crying,” Attila says,frowning. “Why?”

“I’m fine, I’m… fine.” He shakes hishead, rubbing at his eyes again. “It’s nothing.”

“It is something,” Attila insists.“You are crying, why?”

“Look, it’s just.” Octavius sighs. Hetries to tell the condensed version of everything that’s happened, startingwith his old school and ending with detention. He crosses his legsunconsciously, tugs the skirt tight around them. Attila nods and makes mmhmm sounds every so often- so he mustunderstand most of it.

“You want to be a…” He searches forthe word for a moment. “A skirt boy?”

“No, no, I just- keep your voicedown-” Which, of course, is a ridiculous request, as the room’s full of chatterand other such noises. Octavius sighs. “Jed talked me into it, I never shouldhave listened.”

“So it is Jedediah’s fault you arecrying?” Attila pieces together, and because Jed doesn’t want to talk any moreabout it (and maybe a little because he’s still kind of angry at Jed), he justgoes with it.

“Yeah,” he says, crossing his arms andslumping in the chair. “Jed’s fault.”

Attila doesn’t even reply to that,just goes back to reading his book in монгол

o0O0o

So, yeah, Jed’s got no idea why Attilaapparently hates him, now.

o0O0o

The game goes by all right- they’re inthe lead, fall back (because Jed drops the ball again), but then pick up again in the beginning of the second halfand carry their lead to the end.

Jed doesn’t notice the cheer team- nomatter how bright the sun might shine on their bright red uniforms- and so hedoesn’t notice the set of legs hidden behind bright red pants swirling aroundthe skirts.

“Good job, team,” Daley says, as theyregroup to celebrate. “Very good- make sure you’ve got everything back in yourbags; be back on the bus in forty minutes, that’s forty minutes…”

Jed tunes him out.

He goes to get his bag from thebleachers when he hears voices- specifically Ivan’s and Al’s- coming closer.They’re both on the team- Ivan never passes to Jed, not even if Jed’s in theperfect position, and he’s pretty sure Al sells all of their strategies to theopposite teams. Jed grits his teeth and waits for it.

“Hey, Jed-head,” Al says, leaningagainst the bleachers as Jed bends to pick up his bang.

“We saw your boyfriend the other day,”Ivan adds, and it’s clear that they’ve rehearsed this conversation. Jed braceshimself.

“Better start calling him toga-boy,huh?” Al snickers. “Always knew he was a fruit, never thought he’d actuallyadmit to it.”

“To what?” Jed says, taking the baitwithout even blinking.

“To being a girl,” Ivan sneers.

“Come on.” Al punches his shoulder. Ithurts, but Jed’s clearly not supposed to let that show. “We all know you go forthe chicks around here, yeah? Figures he’s a girl at heart, no wonder you wentfor him.”

Jed slings the bag over his shoulder,trying to ignore them. Ivan jogs in front of him, stops him in his tracks.

“Stop,” Ivan says.

“Get outta my way.”

“Nah, Jed-head, you misunderstand.” Alstrides to his side, rubs his shoulder. “Ditch the toga-boy.”

“What?”

“Ditch,” Ivan repeats, folding hisarms, “skirt-boy.”

“Hey, he made progress today,” Alsays, as if Jed isn’t even there. “Did you see him? Pants and everything.”

“He what?”

“But.” Al pats his head. “The pointstill stands, Jed-head. You’re making the team look bad.”

“Maybe the team wouldn’t look so badif you didn’t sell us out!”

“You little-”

Jed swings to the side and punches Alin the jaw.

They’re two on one, and Ivan’s gotmaybe ten pounds up on Jed, so he only manages to land a couple more blowsbefore Ivan grabs his arms and holds them behind his back, leaving him wideopen.

“You’re a girl, just like him,” Alspits, hair askew. His chin’s gonna hold a bruise for a week, and really, thatmakes it all worth it.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Jed says-he almost shouts, but Ivan twists his arm in a clear warning.

“This ain’t about us, Jed-head, it’sabout you.” Al aims a kick to his chest and he slumps forward, winded.

“Go fuck yourself,” he growls,suddenly glad Ivan’t holding his arms- he’d probably fall over otherwise.

“Come on, Jed-head.” Al pats his cheekand Jed resists the urge to spit in his face. “Hey, he already hates you.”

“The hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t think you’re the only one indetention.”

Ivan. Of course.

Al’s too smart to land himself indetention, but Ivan isn’t. And of course, he must have sat right behind them-or beside them- or something.

“That ain’t none of your business.” Heglares at Al, wondering how much trouble he’d get in if he actually did spit.

“Wouldn’t take much. Hey, he mightwant it to be over already.” Al shrugs. “Who knows? Women, you know? Never canmake up their minds.”

“Shut up about Octy.”

“Why? Because you know I’m right?”

“No, because he’s my boyfriend.” Jed looks Al straight in theeyes. “Because he can wear a damn skirt if he wants to, because what the hell’sthat got anything to do with you, and because-” He breaks off, pretending tolook somewhere over Al’s shoulder. Al takes the bait and looks, too.

Jed spits.

Ivan puts both hands on his arm andtwists them different directions and Jed can’t help it, he lets out a shout andfalls to the ground because an Indian Arm Burn is not fair.

Ivan drops him, and he and Al bothsprint away- as if there’s anything on the field that could hide them fromplain sight. The only reason no one’s noticed, Jed thinks, is that the rest ofthe team’s probably still celebrating the win outside with the free Gatorade.

He picks up his bag again and hikes itover his shoulder, getting ready to follow them, already thinking of where theband-aids in his bathroom are, when-

“Jed?”

He drops his bag.

From behind the bleachers, stillhalfway shrouded in shadow, comes-

“Octy,” he says, stupidly. “I… Ithought you were over with-”

“I was getting my stuff when I heardyou coming,” Octavius says, shrugging. “Look, just- just.” Octavius steals aglance at the doors leading into the locker rooms.

“Octy?”

“Come with me.”

o0O0o

“You are.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Without a doubt.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“The worst kisser I’ve ever seen.”

“Mmh- hey!”

Octavius laughs and Jedediah whacks him with his hat. Octaviusleans back against his bedroom wall, arms behind his head.

“Well, then, you’re the worst boyfriend I’ve ever had,” Jedpouts.

“I’m the only boyfriendyou’ve ever had,” Octy points out, giving him a look.

“Well, I’m the only boyfriend you’ve ever had,” Jed retorts. Octavius just raises an eyebrow.“Oh,” Jed says, blinking.

“Not everyone waits until they’re in junior year to have agay panic.”

“I didn’t have a gaypanic.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“I had a gay… moment.”

“Well,” Octavius says, leaning over and kissing hisforehead, “even though you’re not my first one, you’re definitely my favoriteboyfriend.”

“You’re dumb.”

Octavius snorts.

o0O0o

“Hey, Jed, scoot over.”

Jed fiddles with his earbud- it’s caught in the string ofhis necklace. He frowns at Teddy, who’s making a vague gesture that could meananything from ‘please move’ to ‘fuck me up the asshole.’

“What?”

“Move,” Teddy repeats. “Scoot over, make room.”

Puzzled- so puzzled that he doesn’t notice Octaviusstiffening beside him- Jed slides his backpack to the left and scoots over-just in time to allow the stranger, helloto sit down at their table, between Jed and Octavius.

He’s taller than Jed, but shorter than the teachers. Hishair is slicked back in a way that should be annoying but somehow manages tolook good, and the navy blue dress shirt he’s wearing just screams “I’m smarterthan you.” Okay, it also sort of screams “I like to suck dick in my sparetime,” but obviously that’s not why it catches Jed’s attention.

The guy grins around at them and god damn it, even his teethare perfect.

“Hi,” the guys says, in the silkiest voice Jed’s ever heard.“My name is Cassius.”

“Hey,” he says, offering his hand. “I’m Jed.”

The others introduce themselves in a circle, and Jed jumpsin before anyone else has the chance.

“So, uh,” he begins, immediately regretting the decision tospeak. “You new?”

“Transfer,” Cassius replies, nodding.

“Please tell me you’re here on a trip,” Octavius says in themust un-Octavius voice Jed’s ever heard. “And not for a semester.”

“Oh, calm down, Octy,” Cassius says, and Jed thinks excuse me?

Octavius huffs and doesn’t reply to that, and suddenlyCassius’s hair looks incredibly slimy. And his shirt really says “punch me inthe face.”

The rest of the table seems to have gotten the message thatsomething’s wrong, because Teddy jumps in to change the subject.

“Where are you from?” he asks, giving a smile that Jed knowsis genuine- Teddy’s like that, always nice even when he doesn’t have to be.

“I was born in America,” Cassius says, shrugging, “but myparents originally lived in Italy. I spent a few years there in school, butFather got a job offer and so we moved back.”

“And you just happened to find out which school I was goingto?” Octavius interrupts, scowling.

“Octy, stop it,” Cassius says, rubbing Octavius’s shoulder.Jed straight up sees red. “I heard this place has a good music program.”

“Sure,” Octavius says, frowning into his lunch bag.

Jed scoots a few more inches away from Cassius as he stabshis fork into his cafeteria pizza.

o0O0o

“So,” he says, pushing the door to his room open andushering Octavius inside, “what was up with Assius?”

“Cassius,” Octavius corrects.

Jed rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He drops his backpack ontothe ground as Octavius flops onto his bed.

“He’s my, um.” Octavius clears his throat. “Ex-boyfriend.”

Jedediah stares.

“I’m allowed to have ex-boyfriends,” Octavius huffs.

“He seemed like an ass,” Jedediah says, crossing his arms.

“I saw the way you were looking at him.” Octavius shrugs. “Iget it, he’s handsome. Anyway.” He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. As long ashe isn’t looking for trouble, I won’t be, either.”

Jedediah wants to ask about their relationship so badly. He opens his mouth twice,almost says something, almost says the words so why did you, but stops himself.

“Do you want to-” talkabout it? “-watch something? Do… work?”

“It’s not like you have to walk on eggshells, Jed,” Octaviuschides. “I won’t go to pieces if you ask me.”

“But I don’ wanna ask you if you don’ wanna talk.”

“I’d be more than happy to talk,” Octavius assures him. “I’mglad to be rid of him, anyway.”

“Yeah?” Jed flops down on the bed and hikes both of his legsup expectantly, criss cross. Octavius sighs.

“Yes.” Octavius scoots over to allow Jed a little more room.“He’s not the kindest person.”

“With a name like Assius,I ain’t surprised.”

“Cassius.”

“Whatever.”

“Anyway.” Octavius folds his arms. “We used to go to thesame school together. And I… well, I joined the cheerleading squad there aswell.”

Jed snorts. “Hoo, I’d love to see pictures o’ that.”

“That’s just the thing,” Octavius explains. “Much like it isat this school, I was the only boy on the team. So, since they didn’t want toorder a new uniform, I wore a girls’ uniform.”

“Only I bet it don’t look as good as the one you’ve gotnow,” Jed butts in, unable to stop himself. “After all, red’s sorta yourcolor.”

Octy shrugs. “The blue and black might not have done mejustice,” he agrees. “But, in any case. Cassius didn’t exactly… approve.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“The idea of me in a skirt rather… intimidated him.”Octavius shrugs. “There was one day in particular where the team had to wearthe uniform to school- as a sort of message to everyone that we’d be performingthat day.” Jed doesn’t comment when Octavius crosses his legs unconsciously.

“And?” he says, gently.

“And so I wore the uniform.” Octavius shrugs. “And Cassuis,he.” He pauses. “Didn’t like it.”

“What an ass.” Jedediah huffs.

“Yes, well. Later that year, I wore a skirt- it was mymother’s; I stole it from her closet.” Octavius laughs a little at that.

“Bet every guy had his eyes on you,” Jed teases. Octysnorts.

“It didn’t, ah. Go well,” he says, quietly.

“Oh.”

“We had gym together- I had to change into shorts- when Iwasn’t looking, he stole my skirt and, um.” Octavius scratches his chin. “Cutit up. Then soaked it in the toilet.”

“Oh.”

“He told me his friend Nonus had done it- and I believedhim.” Octavius shrugs.

“Octy, that’s…” Jed can’t come up with an adjective that candescribe how awful and stupid and horrible Cassius is, so he just trails off.

“Anyway, when I heard we were going to move, he got upset.And- he told me the truth.”

Octavius brings up his legs to the bed and crosses them,mimicking Jedediah.

“So,” Jed says, carefully, “you… like skirts?”

“I don’t dislike them,” Octavius says. “Obviously I don’twear them around school.”

“Well,” Jed says, reaching for Octy’s hand and hoping thathe’s not crossing some sort of boundary. “Why not?”

Octavius fixes him with a look. “I think I’ve just told youwhy not.”

“Well, Cassius ain’t here- I mean, he is, but not really. He’sa dick.” Damn it, this is all coming out wrong. Sort of like Jed. “I think youshould, um,” he shakes his hands, trying to articulate what it is he’s tryingto say. “I think you should wear them if you want.”

Octavius raises an eyebrow.

“I mean,” Jed says. “I think you look really nice, whateveryou wear. And if anyone gave you a hard time about it, I’d kick their asses.And- and I know the rest of ‘em wouldn’t care- you know, Teddy, Wea, Lance, allof them.”

“That’s very kind of you, Jed,” Octavius starts.

“I’m serious, though,” Jed insists. “Cassius was an asshole,right?”

“Well, sure.” Octavius shrugs. “It’s fine that he’s here, Idon’t really care. I’ve got you now, haven’t I?”

“Course you do.” Jed shrugs. “But I… like you in youruniform.”

“I did notice that,” Octavius teases, “when you were benchedfor a week for dropping the ball.”

“Shut up.”

“I appreciate it, though,” Octavius says, smiling shyly.

“Will you wear a skirt for me?” Jed asks, ignoring anyworries he’d had about crossing lines. “Tomorrow?”

“What?”

“I wanna see- I only get to see you in your uniform, I’mcurious, now.” Jed grins, waggling his eyebrows.

“You’re ridiculous,” Octavius huffs.

“I’m serious.” Jed takes his hand, now, properly. “Will youwear a skirt tomorrow?”

“Jed-”

“For me?”

Octavius sighs. Jedediah sticks out his bottom lip, fixinghim with his best pleeease face.

“Pleeease?”

“Oh my god, fine.”Octavius rolls his eyes. “For you,” he agrees.

Jedediah gasps dramatically, beaming. “You’re the bestboyfriend ever.”

Octavius snorts. “Love you, too.”

He doesn’t seem to expect Jed to say it back- come to thinkof it, Jed doesn’t know if he’s just joking or if he’s actually serious- but itdoesn’t matter, because Octy’s changed the subject to Ms. Orsay’s class and Jedjust nods and smiles, already on cloud nine.

o0O0o

Octavius waltzes into Ms. Orsay’s the next morning in a rubyred skirt that doesn’t quite reach the floor. On his feet is a pair of sandalswith straps that wrap up his ankles, and Jedediah is not imagining what his legs would look like shaved or what his toeswould look like with nail polish on them.

Octy sits down and pulls out his books, fixing Jed with alook that says happy, now?

Jed just grins back.

o0O0o

In the end, Jed doesn’t know whether Lunch ends horribly or amazingly.

“Octy,” Cassiusgreets, and wow, how did Jed not notice how annoying this guy was from the start?“Nice dress.”

It’s not a compliment, and somehow everyone knows that.Teddy in particular, Jed sees, finally gets the vibe that something’s wrongabout Cassius.

“It’s not a dress,” Octavius says, sitting down and notfacing Cassius. “It’s a skirt.”

“Your mother’s skirt, right?” Cassius snorts.

“Yes,” Octavius huffs. “She was nice enough to lend it tome.”

Cassius laughs, a harsh, mean sound that makes Jed’s jawclench and his shoulders tense. From across the table, Lance’s smile falls offhis face.

“Maybe you should be nice enough to give it back,” Cassiussays. Octavius doesn’t say anything, just pulls out a sandwich from his paperbag. “Oh, come on, Octy,” Cassius says, smiling. “You know you look ridiculous.”

Octavius grits his teeth.

“I think he looks fine,” Jed butts in, leaning forward.

“Yes,” Sacagawea adds, seeming to understand exactly what’sgoing on. Good old Wea. “He does. It suits him.”

“All right, all right.” Cassius takes his half empty lunchtray and stands, then winks at Octavius. “Seeyou in gym, Octy.”

And that’s it. That’s all Jed can take.

o0O0o

“You didn’t have to do that,” Octavius says, from the backof Mr. Kahmunrah’s classroom, where they’re both serving detention.

“Course I did,” Jed says, shrugging. The room’s abuzz withchatter from all the other kids- Cassius is sitting in the front, readingquietly.

“This was a bad idea.” Octavius picks at the skirt,uncomfortably. “I should have brought a pair of jeans or something-”

“It was a fine idea.” Jed shakes his head, then winces ashis nose protests the movement. He touches it gently, picks off a few flakes ofdried blood. “Cassius’s just a dick.”

“But I’ve gotten you in detention.”

“Not like I’ve never been here before.” Jed shrugs. “Besides,you’re here with me, too.”

“That’s not really a good thing.”

“Hey, lighten up. Detention’s not so bad, once you get usedto it.”

“Jed, I’m… not going to wear something like this again,” Octaviussays quietly.

“Why not?”

“Because!” Octavius leans back in his chair. “Because ofwhat happened last time and because of what happened this time.”

“Well, do you like it?”

“I feel stupid.”

“But do you like it?”

“Jed-”

“Because I like it-”

“Jedediah, stop it!”

It’s not loud enough to make the rest of the room quiet downand pay them attention, but it’s loud enough that Jed is stunned into silence.He’s crossed a line, now, he knows it- shit, shit, he fucked up, he fucked upso bad, what the hell is he going to-

“Sorry,” Octavius says, but Jed barely hears him. “I’m justgoing to- um.”

Octavius’s seat scoots backwards with a horrible squawk, and Octy takes his stuff andjust leaves. Sits in the second row.

High school couples are disgusting.

“Seriously?” Jed grumbles under hisbreath, as the door is thrown open to reveal Lancelot clad in a toga, completewith a set of fake wings strapped to his back. The rest of the class laughs andclaps, and Mr. Ahkmenrah just sighs, acknowledging that he’s not getting anyfurther into his lesson today.

“Go on,” he says, waving an arm.

“Cupid’s arrows!” Lancelot proclaims, and the two girlsbehind him giggle. They’re all holding tiny white baskets filled with heartshaped lollipops. And as there was no way to make “candy-gram” into aValentine’s day themed catch phrase, the student body council had decided on“cupid’s arrows.” Which is dumb. Cupid’s arrows are dumb.

Lancelot goes up and down the aisles, reading off names andhanding out the lollipops- Sacagawea gets one, of course, as does that one kidJed can never remember the name of. And when Lancelot passes by Custer, hepauses for a moment before handing him a lollipop.

Custer looks as if he can’t quite comprehend what’shappening- he doesn’t even pick it up, he just stares- but before he can askwho sent it, Lancelot’s spun around and headed for the door.

He twirls, and the toga flutters around his legs.

“A very Merry Valentine’s Day to you all,” he proclaims, andswishes out the door.

Mr. Ahkmenrah clears his throat.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” he says, shuffling a stackof papers- possibly just to make it look like he’s saying something important,because he shuffles papers kind of a lot- “I’d like to return to this week’svocabulary list.”

But how the hell did Custerget a stupid lollipop? Oh, no, Jed knows. Lance and Custer are perfect foreach other, the idiots. Yeah, they’d spend hours together braiding each other’shair.

Jed mushes the heel of his palm into his cheek and pretendsnot to be upset.

o0O0o

“Jed, what the hell are you doing?”

Jed jumps at the loud and braising voice of- oh god, it’sAmelia.

Stupid Amelia. She’s got near perfect grades and a nearerdeafening voice and an even nearer ego-shattering attitude. Amelia transferredover just after winter break and, as she happened to be Sacagawea’s old friend(probably from the internet), she’s been reluctantly added to their group.

Well, most of the group likes her.

Actually, everyone in the group likes her, save for Jed.

“You didn’t sign up to help organize the-”

“Amelia, just-” He holds a hand out, and Amelia stops in hertracks. “Just. Slow down a second, ‘kay?”

Amelia huffs and puts her hands on her hips. “You said lastweek when we had lunch outside that you were going to help organize the gym forthe Valentine’s fundraiser this weekend, but the list went up on Monday and youstill haven’t written your name.” She frowns. “Why not?”

“Cause your name was already written on it,” Jed says,deadpan. Amelia rolls her eyes.

“Come on, Jed. Live a little.”

“I don’ exactly call decorating the gym ‘living’, Amelia.”

“You’d help rack up community service hours- if I’m notmistaken, you’re sorely behind, and you’ve only got-”

“Why do you care so much?” he shouts, crossing his arms.Amelia goes quiet immediately, shrinking back a little. Jed sighs. “Sorry. Didn’tmean to shout. But-” He shrugs. “Why is this stupid thing so important?”

“Well,” Amelia says, in the quietest voice Jed’s ever heardher speak in- until now, he hadn’t known it was possible for her to sayanything without the air of having rehearsed it several hundred times- “Everyoneelse on the list is- well, I don’t know them.”

Jed blinks.

“And I just thought that maybe if you’d come along and help,then I wouldn’t feel so gosh darn out of place.”

Well, shit.

The vote is in, the tallys have been counted. Jedediah Smithis a Grade-A, picture perfect, definition of an asshole.

“I guess,” he says, unfolding his arms a bit, “I couldprobably use a few more service hours.”

The smile Amelia gives him is worth every minute he’s goingto have to spend cooped up in that stupid gym.

o0O0o

They fill the gym with heart balloons ranging from white topink to red to purple, streamers draping from the ceiling, glitter in places itabsolutely should not be, and athousand other annoying pink bullshit things.

Both Jed’s hat and his hair are liberally coated in glitterby the time they’re sent home.

But hey, he’s got five hours of community service stackedup.

And actually, if they could get a few lights in here tocolor up the place, it wouldn’t look to bad. Jed squints, trying to imaginewhat would happen if they could dim the lights down, maybe get some red andblue highlights, maybe get a discoball to spice things up a little-

Huh. He almost feels bad that he’s not going to the dance.

o0O0o

Jedediah’s mood drops significantly over the next week.

The dance is Friday night, so the gym’s off limits- which ofcourse means that every time he passes by it or has to take a gym class outside(in the fucking freezing cold), hehas to think about the fact that it’s covered in pink and purple and balloonsand streamers and he’s probably never going to see it look this good everagain.

He doesn’t even try to stay awake in first period. And hedoesn’t notice Octavius giving him side glances the whole time.

Lunch rolls around and he can barely bring himself to eathis sandwich. He chews off a bit, and just… lets it sit there. Congealing onhis tongue. After wallowing in blank thoughts for long enough, he forceshimself to chew and swallow it.

The group’s probably eating at their usual table. Jed’stucked away in the last place anyone would suspect- the library. He knows he’sin a rotten mood and he knows the rest of them will pick up on it. And it’s notlike it’s their fault he’s like this, so why should he sit there and be gloomyaround them?

He picks at the edge of his sandwich, watches the crumbsfall to the floor. He’s not going to eat it.

“Hey.”

The sandwich slips out of his hands and lands on the librarycarpet. Oh, now he’s definitely notgoing to eat it.

“Octavius,” he says, sitting up. Octy just sits right nextto him, no invitation needed.

“Thought you’d be here.”

“You did?” He thumbs over the ring on his finger (the ringthat he only takes off to sleep and to shower) and tries a smile.

“Well, you weren’t in Mr. Kahmunrah’s classroom,” Octaviussays, shrugging. “So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nope.” He doesn’t even bother denying it.

“Come on, you’ve been gloomy all week.” Octavius folds hisarms.

“Octy-”

“I know you hate school dances,” Octy says.

“It’s not the dance,” Jed says, shaking his head. “It ain’teven a dance, it’s a fundraiser. An’ that’s not it.”

“Oh, isn’t it?”

“It’s not.”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“Octy, seriously-”

“And why did you even go set it up, anyway-”

“I want to go to the dance, all right?” Jed bursts out.There’s in the back of the library, so no one turns to look at them- but it’sjarring enough that Octavius actually takes a moment before speaking again.

“You what?”

“I want to go.” Jed shrugs. “I dunno. I don’t like dances-and this ain’t even a dance- but. I just thought. If.”

“If you went with me?” Octavius suggests. Jed looks up, meetshis eyes.

“You don’t like dances,” he says.

“I like you.”

Octavius snatches his hand- the one with the ring that healmost never takes off- and squeezes it.

“You want to go to the dance with me?” he asks. Jed justnods slowly, manages a real smile this time.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding again. “Yeah, um. Yes.”

“Good.” Octavius pecks his cheek. The bell rings, signalingthe end of lunch. “Well, I guess we should go- mmmpth!”

Hidden behind the rows of bookshelves, they kiss and kissand kiss.

Both of them are late to fifth period.

Neither one cares.

o0O0o

Mr. Ahkmenrah doesn’t even bat an eye as the door’s thrownopen the next morning, just sits back and waits for it to be over.

Lancelot- complete with toga and fake wings- prances aroundthe classroom, handing out the lollipops. He gives one to Custer again, handsone to Nicky- probably from his dad, Jed thinks-  and Jed’s about to pull out his phone to passthe time when-

“Jedediah Smith?”

A lollipop- red and heart shaped and full of more chemicalsthan the Chem Lab- drops onto his desk.

Jedediah looks up, but Lancelot just winks before flutteringout of the classroom.

Jedediah unwraps it and sticks it in his mouth, not evenbothering to hide the smug smile simmering behind his lips.

o0O0o

And the dance might not have perfect colored lighting, butit does have a disco ball. And a pretty decent soundtrack. And Octy’s dancingin his arms for the most part of it, so.

Jed actually forgets about New Year’s.

His family doesn’t do anything for the holiday- they don’t make resolutions, they don’t go over to the neighbor’s house, they don’t even get champagne- so when he hears a sudden tumultuous roar from outside his window, Jed thinks for a moment that something’s gone horribly wrong, that there’s someone out there with a gun going crazy.

And then, of course, he remembers. He snorts to himself, going back to his computer.

The fireworks don’t stop, which makes it all the more difficult to focus on these stupid chapter review questions. They’ve finished with The Great Gatsby and are supposed to get through the first three chapters of their next book, The Things They Carried, by the time they get back from break.

The fireworks pop and fizzle, scream and clatter.

Well, he doesn’t have to have these questions done for another four days.

He shuts his book and saves the document, closing it as well. He stretches his arms behind his back, groaning as the ligaments crack into place. It’s only midnight, he reasons. He’s got three or four hours left before he’s going to get tired. So that just leaves him with a puzzle of what to do.

As if on cue, his phone buzzes.

He unlocks it and swipes to the text from Octy that’s just come in.

Happy New Year!!! Xoxo

He smiles to himself, thinking. It hasn’t been a year since they’ve been together- but will he get the same text next year? What about the year after that? He knows most high school relationships tend to break up pretty fast; sometimes they last a few months, sometimes a year or so. But he doesn’t see himself breaking up with Octy anytime soon. He’ll never get bored of Octy- and he can’t imagine them fighting.

happy new year :)

He hits send absently.

Mom and Dad are out with my uncle for New Year’s drinks; I said I didn’t want to go.

Jedediah snorts. Only Octavius would use a semicolon in a text. He’s about to send a picture of himself alone in his room, shrugging, when he gets another text.

Want to come over? We can watch a movie!

He chews his lip. His parents probably wouldn’t want him to go. Maybe. It’s really late.

id like to but i gotta take care of henry

It’s not even a good lie. Maybe that’s the point.

Bring her over, then.

are u serious

Sure!

Fuck it. It’s New Year’s. Maybe this year he can resolve to do the things he wants to do.

Like take his cat to his boyfriend’s house so they can watch a movie.

o0O0o

“Get off- Octy, make her get off.”

“She’s your cat.”

“Yeah, but if I shove her off, she won’t talk to me for, like, three days.”

“Or at least until she gets hungry.”

“Ha, ha. Henry, move- I can’t even see the dumb screen-”

Octavius circles his arms around all 23 pounds of Henry and heaves her up off Jedediah’s chest. He sets her in his own lap where she sits, content, and absentmindedly scratches behind her ears.

“See?” he says, when she nuzzles his hand. “She loves me.”

“Traitor,” Jedediah mutters. Octavius kicks his shin. “Anyway, you got it all set up?”

“Yep.” Octavius scrolls through the DVD menu and finds the ‘play’ button. “You ready?”

“Ugh.” Jedediah pouts. “Next time, we’re watching something else. Like. Toy Story.” He folds his arms, even as Octavius tosses the end of the blanket over him.

“You just like cowboys,” Octavius teases, setting the movie to go and leaning back. In his lap, Henry adjusts her legs.

“No, I just don’t like horror.”

“If you get scared, you can cuddle up with me.”

“With that dumb thing between us?” Jedediah glares at Henry. “I don’t think so.”

o0O0o

“Don’t just stand, there, KILL HER… what’s the knife got to do with anything… yeah, that’s it.”

Amplified stabbing sound effects fill the room. Jedediah scrunches up his nose. Henry decides she’s had just about enough of this nonsense and leaps to the ground with a very, very dignified FLUMP.

“Hey,” Octavius murmurs. Jedediah jumps about half a foot off the couch, tucking the blanket to his chin. Octavius snorts.

“Shut up,” Jedediah hisses.

“That offer for cuddling’s still up,” Octavius reminds him. “If you wanted.”

“Go cuddle yourself,” Jed snaps, blanket still pulled up beneath his chin.

“Whatever you say.”

o0O0o

“I got him, right between the eyes, Ally! I got the fucker right between the eyes.”

Henry jumps up onto the couch and Jedediah makes this sort of grunting noise- it almost sounds like the noise he’d make if he’d stubbed his toe on the wall. Henry immediately panics, fumbling around on the couch, and ends up trapped under the blanket. Jed tugs at the blanket furiously, trying to get her out, and at long last, she rolls to the floor.

Henry sneezes once and stalks out of the room, tail held high.

Octavius bursts into laughter, clutching his chest.

“Octy, don’t you dare-”

“That was- that was the funniest thing,” he pants, watching Henry turn around the corner. “You were so scared, oh my god.”

“She jumped up on me, Octy, the hell was I supposed to do?” Jed’s face is turning red now, Octavius just knows it. “Ain’t my fault.”

“She’s a cat, Jed.” Octavius rolls his eyes. “Come here.”

“I ain’t comin’ nowhere.”

“No, no, come here.” Octavius gestures to his side of the couch. “And gimme some of that blanket, it’s freezing.”

“I said I ain’t comin’.”

Octavius groans. “Suit yourself.”

o0O0o

It ends, as all movies do, and Octavius flips the lights on. Jed’s tucked into the corner of the couch, arms folded, chewing his lip.

“Well?” Octavius asks, shrugging. “What’d you think? It’s my uncle’s favorite.”

“Marius can go suck a dick,” Jed snaps.

“You’re impossible.”

“I told you I didn’t like that kinda stuff,” Jed protests. “An’ now I’m gonna go home an’ go to sleep an’ dream about a stupid owl mask, you numb-nut.”

“Well,” Octavius says, slowly. “We could watch something else, I guess. Take your mind off of owl headed murderers?”

“Yeah? Like what?” Jed lowers the blanket curiously.

“How about Cannibal Holocaust? It’s a classic.”

Jed scowls. “I hate you.”

“Hey, it’s more cheesey than anything else.” Octavius shrugs. “Come on, you like zombies, right?”

“Do I even get to say no?”

“Nope.”

Jed huffs and curls up on the couch, tucking the blanket over his head.

Octavius opens the wooden case below his television and sifts through the hoard of DVDs. He has to reach all the way into the back to find it. He pops the case open, takes the disc out, and swaps it with Stagefright: Aquarius.

He turns the volume all the way down, waits for the menu to show, presses play, and slides the volume back up.

The familiar strains of Randy Newman’s You’ve Got a Friend in Me wash over the living room, and Jedediah pops his head out of the blankets. He looks first at the screen, then at Octavius. And then-

And then his face lights up.

He scoots over next to Octavius and slings the blanket up over both of them, grinning stupidly.

“I’m only watching this for you,” Octavius reminds him. “So you’d better appreciate it.”

“Aw, hush. I know you like it.”

“I do not-”

“I know you like me.”

“That, I can’t deny.”

It doesn’t start snowing until the weekend, when winter break officially starts.

Of course, none of the teachers seem to understand that winter break means winter break, because Jedediah’s got at least an hour’s worth of work ahead of him this week. It’s absolutely inhumane.

Octy’s got more, of course. But he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Come on, Jed,” he says over the phone, that Sunday. “You haven’t done any of your break work, yet?”

“No?” Jed snorts. “Why would I?”

“Well, you don’t wanna be stuck doing it over Christmas, do you?”

“I am stuck doing it over Christmas- I’m stuck doin’ it over Christmas break!”

“Winter break.”

“Whatever. I’ll do it after Christmas.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Nah, I won’t.”

“Come to my house for Christmas.”

Jed blinks. “What?”

“I’ll help you get your work done- I’m not letting you copy, mind you, so don’t get any ideas.”

“You want me over for Christmas?”

Now it’s Octy’s turn to pause. Jed can only imagine his face- except he can’t, because what the hell? Octy wants him to come over for Christmas?

“I mean,” Octy says, and Jed can just hear his mind backtracking. “If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine- if you want to stay with your family-”

“No,” Jed says, shaking his head. “No, no, that’s- great, actually. I’d love to come.”

“Oh.” Octy laughs, sending a little static through the speaker. Jed laughs back. “Okay, um,” Octy says, sounding as cute as he ever has, “Just come by around nine or so, we’re having Christmas dinner.”

“Woah, you eat late.”

“No, no- nine in the morning. We eat dinner early, then do presents, then just sort of… hang out, I guess.”

Presents.

Oh, fuck.

“Cool,” he says, weakly. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Great! See you then,” Octy says, and then the line is dead and Jedediah suddenly has a much bigger problem than break homework.

o0O0o

“Glad you could make it!” Octavius greets from the door, pulling him into a hug. Jed hugs him back, trying not to look as nervous as he feels.

“Hey,” he says, smiling shyly as they pull away. “Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, Happy Christmas,” Octavius says, grinning brightly. He takes Jed’s hand and pulls him into the house, shutting the door behind him.

Jed sets his backpack on the floor by the door and follows Octy into the house, looking around. He’s been here before, of course, but it just seems different, now. It smells like Christmas, for starters. Octy’s mum must be baking gingerbread. And along with the delicious aromas wafting from the kitchen, there’s a fresh blast of pine from the living room.

The tree’s dusted with ornaments and tinsel- they never have tinsel at Jed’s house, of course; mum says the cats could eat it- and topped with a metal plated star. The ornaments are a mishmash of modern, metal spheres, old-fashioned straw figures, a few picture frames, and candy canes.

“Dad says it doesn’t look very neat,” Octavius says, leading him into the living room. “But I like it.”

“Yeah,” Jed says, staring at the tree.

“Anyway, you’re just in time for dinner.”

Oh, right. Dinner. As in, nine in the morning dinner.

He follows Octy into the kitchen and is greeted with the sight of both his parents and another man sitting beside Octy’s dad. In the middle of the table is a pan about the width of the table, filled to the brim with a golden topped lasagna, still bubbling at the edges. Jed can almost taste the cheese sizzling at the corners of the pan.

There’s a cast iron skillet with what looks like scalloped potatoes, a bowl of roasted carrots, a plate with rolls that send steam up through the napkins covering them. There’s a pitcher with ruby red juice inside, lemon slices dancing around the ice cubes. There’s an empty seat at the end, and beside it is-

Another empty seat. With a plate and a napkin and a Christmas cracker.

“Ah, so this is the famous Jedediah,” the man Jed doesn’t know says, and he knows he’s got nothing to worry about.

They eat and talk and drink and pop crackers and swap paper hats and tell the terrible, terrible jokes on the slips of papers- and for nearly an hour and a half, Jedediah completely forgets about the package tucked in the side of his backpack.

“Well,” Octavius’s uncle, Marius, says, clapping his hands and breaking through the gentle wall of laughter bubbling around the table, “I think we’ve exhausted this feast, so I say we move on down to the living room and open up a few of those presents, eh?”

“A few?” Octavius teases.

“Oh, yes,” Marius says, very seriously. “The rest, we throw away. It’s Christmas tradition, after all.”

Octavius snorts.

They don’t even clean up their dishes- when Jedediah tried, Octy’s dad had had to force him away from the table to stop him, saying that dishes could wait- it was time for presents, now.

They sit in a circle in the living room, and Marius plops on a bright red Santa hat, crouching by the tree. Jed’s barely finished setting his hastily wrapped present under the tree when Octy pulls Jed over to the couch. He presses a kiss to Jed’s cheek before tugging the throw blanket up over their legs.

“Well, let’s see who’s first,” Marius says jovially, and Jed can’t even bring himself to think he looks ridiculous, because it’s Christmas and the man’s wearing a Santa hat and Octy’s in his lap and he can still smell the remains of Christmas dinner and he’s so happy.

“Looks like our first present is for Camilla!” Marius announces, holding a bag aloft. “From…” he reads the tag dramatically, squinting his eyes. “Rufus!”

Octy’s father, Rufus, shoots Camilla a smile.

She takes the bag and sifts through the tissue paper before pulling out a hardcover book. Apparently it’s a book she loves, because she immediately opens to the first page and begins devouring it.

They go through the bulk of the gifts one by one, and Jed even gets a few. Camilla gives him a copy of The Catcher in the Rye, Rufus gives him a nice set of chocolates, and Marius even gives him a stuffed tiger. Attached by a string tied around its neck is a bag with a set of joke gifts- a pencil that doubles as a slingshot, a shock pen, and a small deflated whoopee cushion.

When there’s only a few presents left, Marius picks up Jed’s box, wrapped in crisp red-and-green striped paper, and hands it to Octavius.

“You didn’t have to get me a present,” Octavius says, picking at the wrapping.

“Course I did.” Jed shrugs. “It’s Christmas.”

He watches as Octy opens it, slowly, slowly- watches as he takes out the cardboard box from the wrapping and tugs it open, pulls out-

A copy of The Great Gatsby.

“Figured since I, uh, sort of stole yours,” Jed says, shrugging. Octavius looks in the box and laughs, pulling out another book. It’s emblazoned with the title The Love of the Last Tycoon.

“You got me-”

“It’s by the same guy,” Jed says, shrugging. “Thought you might like it.”

Octavius kisses him, then, right in front of his parents and his uncle, and Jed blushes redder than the hat on Marius’s head.

“And we’ve got just two left, let’s see,” Marius says, rubbing his hands together. “This one looks like it’s for- Jed!” He hands over a small bag, tissue paper spiking up out the top.

Octavius nudges his arm.

Jed pulls out a small box, and opens it to find-

“Oh, wow.”

He pulls out the ring and the necklace, looks at them both in awe. They’ve both got the same design- a circular pendant for the necklace and a circular addition to the ring. And as he looks at the design, he can see-

“That’s the moon,” Octy says, pointing at the ring. “And that one’s the earth,” he adds, pointing then at the necklace. “I didn’t know if you were a jewelry kind of person- I can return them if you don’t-”

“They’re beautiful,” he says, slipping the necklace over his head. “Thanks, Octy.”

Octy takes the ring and slips it on his finger shyly.

It’s an odd moment.

Because of course it’s not a marriage proposal, or anything. They haven’t even been together four months yet. But it’s something, and it makes Jed think. What if they got married, huh? What if they graduated and went to college in similar places and moved in together and got a dog or a cat and-

Yeah, it’s not an engagement ring. It’s not even a promise ring.

When Octy doesn’t show up for practice for the third day ina row, Jed begins to get concerned.

He goes through the motions, listens to coach Daley tellthem the preferred strategies of their opposing team for their next game, jogsalong the track, does lunges across the field- all while glancing at thebleachers every few minutes.

But Octavius is nowhere to be found.

Maybe, he thinks, it’s just too cold outside for Octy. Hemust just be staying inside because of the chill? After all, there’s a chanceof snow over the weekend and the grass has been consistently frosty. Yeah, hethinks. Octy’s probably just watching from inside. Or just inside. Or he’salready gone home.

He changes back into his regular clothes and laughsalongside the rest of his team, grateful to be inside again where it’s nice andwarm. He finishes up and he’s just about to head for home when-

“Octy?”

Octavius freezes in the middle of the hallway. Jed jogs upto him. He looks exhausted, his hair is- damp?- and he’s carrying a bag overhis shoulder. Jed glances down at it, but Octavius zips it closed before he cansee what’s inside.

“Hey, Jed,” he says, smiling brightly. “You just, uh- cameout of practice, right?”

“Yeah.” He frowns. “You weren’t there.”

“Oh, uh.” Octavius looks at the floor. “It was cold, so I.”He pauses. “Watched from the window.”

Oh. Well. Jed was right

“See you first period, then,” he says, leaning over andpecking him on the forehead. Octavius reddens and gives him a kiss on the nosein return. What a dork.

o0O0o

“All right, you guys,” Daley says, kneeling down. “Our firstbig game is this weekend. Do you think you’re ready?”

“The Smithsonian Academy is going to down!” Attila roarsbeside him, and the whole team cheers.

“Yeah, they’re going down,” Daley agrees, grinning. “It’sbeen a long few months, but I think you guys are ready. Now split into twoteams and get out on the field- I’ll be choosing who’s starting on Saturday.”

After this weekend’s game, it’ll be winter break- they usedto call it Christmas break before a group of parents wrote a letter to theschool- and he won’t have to worry about a thing. His family goes down to visithis mum’s sister every few years, but this year they’re staying home. He’sglad- he’ll miss his aunt and uncle, sure, but he’s relieved that there isn’tthe added holiday stress of packing and paying for the tickets and the car rideto the airport and the arguing in the terminal and the-

Christmas will be good this year, he can feel it.

Yeah, Octy’s gonna come over. They can give each otherpresents, right?

He looks to the empty stands again and watches for movementbehind the window, but Octavius never comes.

Jed runs onto the field, shaking his head to concentrate.

o0O0o

Saturday arrives, and though it’s beyond freezing, the sky’sclear and sunny as anything. Perfect game conditions. Coach Daley gives them aquick pep talk before they go out onto the field- their field, not some other school’s- and leaves them all with athrill of exhilaration that nothing but a game can bring.

Jed’s starting, this game- which seems incredible, becausehe really hadn’t thought he was doing that well, but maybe Coach Daley justwanted to give him a chance- but then again this is only the first real gamethey’ve had, wouldn’t he want the strongest players on first, and he’s doingpretty well actually, bringing the ball down the field, avoiding the otherplayers, until the second half starts and then the cheerleaders come on and hecatches the ball and he’s about to take it and run and-

-and-

-and Octavius is in askirt.

The football slips out of his hands and onto the grass,completely forgotten. He can do nothing but stare at Octavius, who’s jumpingaround and fucking cartwheeling in askirt that really leaves nothing to the imagination and oh god he can seeOcty’s ass-

“SMITH, WHAT ARE YOUDOING?”

He’s got a split second to register the fact that CoachDaley is yelling at him, really yelling, before something collides with hisback and sends him hurtling towards the ground. The ground is cold and hard andthankfully not wet, so he feels the dirt scrape across his face instead ofsmear all over it. He braces himself as about five other players pile on top ofhim.

Shit, he probably could have grabbed some ground if he hadn’tbeen so damn distracted-

Octy in a skirt. Right. That.

“All right, all right,” he hears Daley shout, as the teambreaks up. “Timeout!”

He gets benched.

But it’s not all bad, because from here, he gets a ratherfantastic view of the cheerleaders. And by that, he means he gets a fantasticfucking view of the certainly not fingertip-lengthcheerleading skirt that’s hanging off of Octy’s hips. He’s the only malecheerleader- they probably didn’t have any male cheerleading outfits, ha. Andhey, it looks fucking fantastic on him. It’s red and white- school colors, ofcourse- and it just swishes and sways with every second. The pompoms whipthrough the air- up, down, over, up again- and he’s god damn entranced.

“-Jed?”

He sits up a little straighter. Coach Daley’s looking at himsternly.

“Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, coach?”

“What happened out there?” Coach Daley demands. He’s notparticularly threatening, but Jedediah can’t help but practically cower underhis gaze. “You were on top of it, and then… you fell off.”

“I just, um.” He taps his helmet with his fingernails. “Igot distracted.”

Coach Daley eyes the rows of cheerleaders, all whooping anddancing. He raises an eyebrow. Jed blushes. Coach Daley sighs.

“All right, Smith. From now on, you’re starting on thebench. I’ll substitute you in, though.”

He nods gratefully as Daley leaves, and goes back towatching fucking Octavius in a skirt.

o0O0o

“You ruined it!”

“I didn’t ruin it- if anything, you ruined football for me.”

“You got sent off- I had a cheer ready for you, and everything.”

“Yeah, well, I ain’t gonna start any of the games anymore-least not until I get better. I gotta feelin’ like this was my big chance, andI blew it.”

“Well, you had a big chance to see me cheering you on, andyou blew that, too.”

“Can I blow something else?”

“You’re dumb.”

“You’re dumber- ow! The hell was that for?”

“I’m serious, you know. I’ve spent weeks making this stupidthing perfect. Wrote the thing myself, you know.”

“You stole a rhyming dictionary from Ms. Orsay’s- you saidthat was for an extra credit poetry assignment!”

“Well. It was.”

“You liar.”

“Maybe.”

“Hey, uh. If I’m real good, d’you think you could show methat cheer of yours?”

“If you’re really good.”

“Heh.”

Out of their group of friends, Custer’s the only one not inone of Jed’s classes.

Octy, of course, is in his first period English class. Butso are Teddy and Sacagawea. Lancelot’s taking the same pre-calculus class insecond period, Nicky’s taking AP Latin with him, and Sacagawea also happens tobe in his sixth period- Drawing and Painting B (he took Drawing and Painting Alast year.)

As the bell rings, he strides past the stack of canvases andreaches behind the bookcase. Inch by inch, he pulls out his canvas, making surenot to jostle it. Not, of course, that a jostle would do it much harm, butstill. He holds it beneath the back, taking long, slow steps back around theperimeter of the room, until he finds his table and lowers it down- ever soslowly.

When he’s finished, he looks proudly at it, letting out abreath.

It’s an abstract thing, covered in paint and pencilsketches. Some of it’s colored, some of it isn’t. But it all centers around…well, the center. There isn’t anything there yet, but he’s working on it.

“Wow,” someone says, from behind him. “That’s really good.”

Of course it’s Sacagawea. He smiles at her, rubs his neck.

“Thanks,” he says, shrugging. “It’s not really- I mean, I,uh. I’ve been working on it for a few weeks, so.”

“What’s it about?” She sits on the empty stool next to him,looking over the canvas.

“It’s, uh. An abstract sortathing,” he says, shrugging. “It’s got a buncha parts to it, an’ they’ve all gotto do with different songs. From, um. DarkSide of the Moon.”

“Oh, interesting.” Sacagaweapoints to a spot just above the center, where he’s penciled out and halfcolored a man’s face. “I like that bit.”

“Thanks,” he says, looking downon it. It is good, isn’t it?

He spends the day withheadphones over his ears, the familiar strains of Breathe pumping through him. But as hard as he tries, he can’t getthe pencil to say what he wants. He can’t picture the image of what the musicsays. He can’t mix the paint quite right to get a color that really meanssomething. He tries to touch up the penciled-in face and messes up the eye.When he erases it, the marks smudge together. He gets a proper eraser and getsrid of the whole thing, leaving behind the splotches of paint he’d colored itwith before.

You want to keep going?

He steals a sheet of heavy dutypaper and, setting the canvas to the side, mixes his colors together on thepalate. He begins slowly, brush testing out the paint’s consistency, the paper’s give.

You… don’t?

The brush staggers to the sideat the end of his stroke and gives the whole canvas a feel of misalignment. Hetries a circle and ends up with a half wobbly bean. He adds in another color totry to help the poor painting get on its feet.

It’s not that I don’t want to, I just- it’s not- I’ve never-

God, why is he so stupid?

The paintbrush flares up,striking down the page and cutting the green with an angry yellow line.

Why couldn’t he have just gonewith it? Octy wouldn’t have hurt him, or anything. There wasn’t anything to bescared about. He’d have enjoyed it, he knows he would have. So why had he beensuch a coward?

He shakes his hand, sending thepaintbrush to the side in a tight sinusoid.

If he can’t even do… that, thenwhat kind of a boyfriend is he? Why should someone like Octavius even bothersticking with him? And eating the dough hadn’t been charming, had it? It hadbeen annoying, probably. Octavius had bought that just for them- God, he’s anidiot.

He washes up his materials andcomes back to the table to find Sacagawea staring at his painting again. Hereyes swipe the top half, land on the empty smudge of color, and stay there. Helifts the canvas off the table and tucks it to his chest, defensively.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s not finished,” he says,shaking his head.

“I think it’s lovely.”

“It ain’t done.” He frowns.“I’m… gonna work on it. Tonight. You can see it tomorrow.”

“Fair enough.” Sacagawea shrugs.“It really is good, Jed.”

Jed forces his mouth the curveup into a smile. Because she’s Sacagawea and she always deserves a smile.

o0O0o

“WHY. CAN’T I. GET. THIS. RIGHT?”

With every word, he slashes the paintbrush onto the canvas. Thebristles bend under the force, smashing apart. The metal rim around the brushscrapes the canvas.

The intricate pencil lines are smudged beyond repair, thecareful blends and palates of colors are ruined, all smeared together with theangry red trail, creating a mixture of colors that swirls together to make-

Brown. An ugly, sickly brown. It’s mostly red, but Jedediahknows it’s brown. Even if it looks like it’s red and green and blue and yellowand purple and black, he knows it’s brown. It will always be brown. And theonly thing it can make is an ugly mark on the canvas. An ugly, permanent mark.

He throws the saturated paintbrush onto the floor, notcaring if he stains his carpet. The plastic plate he’s been using as a palatetopples to the carpet along with it, landing paint side down.

He slams his hand down on the canvas, into the paint. Hestreaks it sideways, splattering speckles of brown on the wall. He curves hisfingernails and scrapes them down, down, to the bottom of the frame, until thewhite base shows through in four thin lines. He heaves his arm back and punchesit, making a dent and another crater in the color. He punches it again, again,again, claws it with his nails so hard that it tears, rips at the tear untilthe canvas is torn in two, shreds the strip he’s pulled into a hundred pieces,throws them at the paint until they stick, takes a pair of scissors and stabseverywhere he can reach, tears and tears and tears-

And tears, oh, there are tears.

He drops to his knees in front of the painting, handsshaking. The scissors flop down on the carpet.

Slowly, he picks up the paintbrush and the palate, walks tothe bathroom, and washes them off.

o0O0o

That night, he tosses and turns until his bed is too hot.

He can’t get the memory of being in this bed with Octavius,of saying all the stupid, stupid things he’d said. He flops from side to side,blanket bunching up and falling off the edge of the bed.

So when he comes to class the next morning, he’s dead tired.

He tells Octavius he was up all night finishing Gatsby, but forgot the book at home. Andthank god, Octavius doesn’t seem to question him.

He makes it until sixth period before someone notices.

His canvas is stored behind the bookcase- he’d dropped bybefore first period and hidden it there for the day- and he doesn’t want totouch it. But he does, because what else is he going to do?

It’s horrible.

He looks it over for the first time since last night, takingin the last shreds of evidence that this painting once used to be something-anything. Whatever it had once been, it’s now destroyed. There’s no chance ofrepairing it. He’s going to have to start again.

Tears well up in his eyes- partly from exhaustion, partlyfrom the sheer loss of this painting, partly from the memory of that night.

“Wow. That’s… amazing.”

He startles at Sacagawea’s voice, spinning around to faceher. He doesn’t realize it, but his hands are shaking. He grabs the ruinedcanvas and holds it to his chest.

“This ain’t- it messed up, I gotta start again,” hestammers, shaking his head. “It ain’t nothing’ good.”

“Jedediah,” Sacagawea says, slowly.

“M’ sorry, I know I said you could look at it today but itain’t finished- it’s all ugly and ruined, I gotta do it again-”

“Jed, you’re crying.”

Oh. So he is.

He scrubs his sleeve over his eyes and screws them shut,looking away. He can’t stand this. No one else in class notices him butSacagawea, apparently, because he doesn’t hear anyone else commenting. Hethanks his lucky stars that he’s sitting in the back corner of the classroom,where no one can hear him over the din of the teacher’s music.

He feels the canvas being tugged gently out of his hands,hears it rest on the table. Sacagawea’s stool honks awkwardly as it scootscloser. She doesn’t move to hug him, she just sits and waits.

He tells her everything.

o0O0o

“An’ I- I just got so mad- I couldn’t do it,” he says,looking forlornly at the canvas. “So I just didn’t care anymore, I guess. I didthe first thing that came to mind and I just…” He gestures vaguely with hishands. “I ruined it.”

“I think it’s beautiful.”

“It ain’t. It’s ugly.”

“Jed.”

“I just- I can’t stop thinkin’ about it.” He shakes hishead, arms folded. “I wish I’d said somethin’ else- I must have looked so stupid.”

“Was he angry at you?”

“What?”

Sacagawea fixes him with one of her looks. “Was Octaviusangry at you when you said you wanted to stop?”

“Well. No,” he admits. “But he probably thought I was anidiot.”

“It sounded to me like he was perfectly happy.” Sacagaweasets a hand on the table. “And it sounds to me like the last thing he wants isfor you to beat yourself up like this.”

“Wea, you don’t understand,” he tries.

“I understand that you two are not only adorable together,you’re happy.” She smiles, and he can’t help but try to smile back. Sacagaweaalways deserves a smile. “You like him, right?”

“Course I do.” He really does smile, this time.

“Why?”

“Well- because- because he’s Octy.” Jed shrugs. “Because-because he stared at my ass from the bleachers for weeks before I even knew hisname.”

Sacagawea giggles. “Why else?”

“I dunno.” He shrugs. “Because he helps me in English- andprecalc, because he’s a perfectionist and he can’t turn anything in withoutmaking sure he’s dotted all his stupid ‘I’s, an’- he didn’t care that I ate allthe cookie dough. And he’s better than Colin Firth.”

“Then I don’t see any reason why he wouldn’t want to be withyou just as much. Clearly he does.”

Jed sniffs unconsciously.

“But he’s been with other guys before. Why would he staywith me if I can’t give him… that?”

“Because he likes you,” Sacagawea says gently. “And he doesn’tjust want to be with you just for sex.”

Jed blushes at the word.

“If that’s all he wanted,” she continues, “do you reallythink he would have spent weeks on the bleachers without talking to you?”

Jed shrugs.

“You guys are friends first,” she reminds him. “And that won’tchange.”

“Wea-”

“Don’t worry, Jed. He’s not going to think you’re an idiotjust because you were uncomfortable. You just need some time, that’s all.”

We’ve got all the timein the world.

((sorry this took so long!! hope you like it <3))

o0O0o

“Mum and dad are out tonight,” Jed tells him, excitedly. “Dad’s got a work thing, but it’s out of town, so he’s taking mum along.”

“I can’t believe you call your mother mum,” Octavius says. Jed whacks him on the arm, closing the door.

“You brought stuff?” he prompts, nodding to the bag hanging from Octavius’s hand.

“Yeah.” Octavius nods, walking to Jed’s kitchen and setting the plastic bag down. “Not a whole lot, just some, uh. Cookie dough.” He pulls out the roll of dough and sets it on the kitchen counter. “I hope you aren’t allergic- I’m sorry I didn’t ask you sooner-”

“Ain’t allergic to nothin’, ‘cept maybe your frown.”

“God, you’re so cheesy.”

“The cheesiest.” Jed presses a smacking kiss on Octy’s neck, snatching up the cookie dough. “You keep on like this an’ I’ll have to give you somethin’ in return.”

Octavius snorts. “I didn’t say cheesy was good.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Octavius rolls his eyes. “Come on, you meatball. Let’s make cookies.”

Jed, who’s already torn open one end of the roll and carved out a good sized chunk of dough into his hand, frowns. “Make ‘em? You mean we’re not just gonna eat the dough?”

“It’s raw egg- Jed, you’d throw up in twenty minutes.” Octavius takes the roll out of his hands. “We’re going to make them, like normal people do.”

“Normal people eat the dough.”

“Then I guess normal people must throw up every time they make cookies. Now, where are your cookie sheets?”

Octavius unwraps the rest of the roll and pulls out a wooden cutting board. He sets the dough down on the board and begins a search for a knife. Jedediah’s kitchen is so different from his own, and he hasn’t been here all that often. Well, yes, he was here when Jed was sick, but that’s different. He knows the way to Jed’s room but he doesn’t know his way around the kitchen or around the rest of Jed’s house- and it’s not a terribly huge place, so it probably won’t take him too long to get the feel for it- that is, of course, assuming that he’s going to be spending a lot of time here-

“Jed!”

He turns back around, butter knife in hand, to find Jed with a handful of dough already in his mouth. Jed chews guiltily, looking down at the decimated roll of dough.

“If you throw up tonight, I’m not holding your hair back.”

“My hair’s not that long.” Jed self consciously runs a hand through his locks, mentally measuring them. “Is it?”

“I could braid it if I wanted,” Octavius says, dryly. “Now wash your hands. We can still salvage what’s left of this stuff.”

Grumbling, Jed slouches over to the sink and reluctantly scrubs off the spit from his hands.

“I ain’t gonna get sick,” he mutters, yanking off the hand towel from its resting place over the handle of the stove. “And my hair ain’t long.”

“Stop your whining and come make cookies.”

“They’re already made, Octy.” Jed wipes his hands on the towel before using it to whack Octavius on the backside. “All we gotta do is eat ‘em.”

“I’m never bringing cookie dough for you again,” Octavius sniffs, feigning offence. “You’re positively- Jed!”

Another clump of cookie dough vanishes from the roll. Jed shrugs, mouth once again full.

“We’re not going to have anything if you don’t- oh, shit.”

“What?” Jedediah asks, through a mouthful of dough.

“I didn’t preheat your oven.”

“Too bad.” Jedediah pinches another bit of dough between his fingers and brings it to his lips. “Guess we’ll just have to eat this stuff.”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Octavius says fondly. Jed’s already taken the cutting board from the table and carried it like a plate to the sofa.

“Come on over, let’s watch something,” he says. “We’ve got Netflix, take your pick.”

The dough is beyond salvaging. And even if Octavius ate raw cookie dough (which he doesn’t), he wouldn’t touch the combination of store bought dough and half dried saliva that’s slowly congealing on the surface of the cutting board.

Right, then.

Ignoring Jedediah’s question (and ignoring his brain, which is screaming its head off at him for refusing the offer to share a couch with Jedediah), he strides over to the oven and punches in 350 degrees.

“Oi, what are you doing?”

“Preheating the oven.”

“Why? We ain’t usin’ this dough.” The sentiment of Jedediah’s words is multiplied tenfold by the fact that he says them with about half a cup of cookie dough lodged between his teeth.

“Do you have any eggs?”

“I think so, yeah- Octy, what’re you doing?”

“Making cookies. Aha, you do have eggs.”

“What are you talking about? We don’t have the dough.” Jedediah holds up the cutting board to show his point.

“Not yet, we don’t.” Octavius sets the container of eggs on Jedediah’s kitchen counter and begins searching through his cupboards. “Flour, flour, flour,” he mutters.

“You ain’t gonna… just. Make cookie dough.” Jedediah raises an eyebrow. “Are you?”

“Of course I am.” Octavius smiles. “I want cookies.”

o0O0o

They end up totaling with:

- One lump of half eaten store bought cookie dough, abandoned on the cutting board on the couch,

- Two cookie sheets complete with twelve lumps of dough each,

- Flour. Everywhere. And-

- About eight less eggs than they started with (even though the recipe only called for two.)

“You’re the worst baker I’ve ever seen,” Octavius says, brushing flour off of Jedediah’s nose as they jog up the stairs to his bedroom. “I swear.”

“Oh, hush up.” Jedediah sticks his tongue out, shoving the door open. Octavius squints as he looks inside and tries to mentally map out a pathway to the bed.

“Ha, your room’s terrible,” he says, stepping over piles of ignored laundry.

“Yep,” Jed says proudly, following him. “Come on, I’ll get my laptop set up. What do you want to watch?”

After about five minutes of sifting through genres and titles, they come to the conclusion that-

“We’re gonna have to break up, Octy.” Jed shrugs. “I dunno if I can date someone with that bad of a taste for movies.”

“I could say the same to you,” Octavius retorts. “Honestly. Who doesn’t like How I Met Your Mother?”

“People with brains?”

Octavius snorts.

“Let’s split the difference,” he suggests. “We’ll watch something we both hate.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“No, no- look, we can watch it and laugh at how bad it is. Right?”

“Fair enough.”

They go with Bridget Jones’ Diary, because neither of them can particularly stand romantic comedies.

“Mr. Darcy?” Octavius repeats, when the love interest’s name is finally spoken for the first time. “Seriously?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Jedediah shrugs. “It’s just a name, ain’t it?”

“You haven’t read a page of Jane Austin, have you?”

Jedediah brightens. “Is it anything like that Gatsby book?”

“Uh. No, not really. By the way, you still have my copy of Gatsby, don’t you?”

Jedediah nods. “I ain’t finished with it yet.”

“You’re reading it?”

“Course I am.”

“Only you, Jedediah, would read the book for your book project after turning the project in.”

Onscreen, Colin Firth is doing his best to act very Colin Firth-y. He’s doing a pretty good job, Jedediah thinks. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s Colin Firth.

“Oi.”

He tears his eyes away from the screen. “Hm?”

“Don’t tell me you actually like this stuff.”

“I don’t!” He folds his arms. “I just happen to… appreciate it.”

“You appreciate Colin Firth.”

“A bit.”

“You think he’s better looking than I am?”

“Octy-”

“Would you rather have Colin Firth here in bed with you than me?”

“He’s British.”

“Would you rather make cookies with Colin Firth? I bet he doesn’t eat the cookie dough.” Octy’s mirth is nearly tangible, now. Jedediah wants to punch it.

“I bet he also doesn’t talk in the middle of watching a movie,” he retorts.

Octy flushes red. “You agreed we could comment if we wanted to, so I commented.”

“Well.” Jed searches for another point he can use against Octy. “Your comment was dumb.”

“You’re dumb. I bet you wouldn’t say Colin Firth was dumb.”

Jedediah jumps him.

“You,” he says, smashing his lips onto Octy’s cheek, “are,” nose, “the most,” forehead, “dumb,” cheek again, “person,” other cheek, “ever.”

He aims for Octy’s lips but misses, grazing his jaw instead. They fall back onto the bed, Jedediah’s laptop falling to the floor with a thud- but Jedediah doesn’t seem to mind, so Octavius lets it fall. His head ends up nested between two pillows, Jedediah pinning him down. Their noses brush for a moment, and Jedediah leans down-

Octavius bursts out laughing.

“Jedediah, you’re so- so-” He can’t think of an appropriate adjective, so he settles with dissolving back into giggles.

“Dumb?” Jedediah suggests. Octavius snorts.

“Come here.”

Jedediah tastes like cookie dough. Vaguely, Octavius wonders if he’s putting himself at the same risk as Jedediah has for salmonella poisoning, but quickly decides he doesn’t care. Neither does Jedediah, apparently, because he shoves his arm under and around Octavius’s ribcage.

Well, all right, then. This is happening.

Octavius is no stranger to this kind of thing. He’s had boyfriends before (and, on one memorable occasion, he’s had a girlfriend.) He knows the ropes. So when he presses a hand up to Jedediah’s chest and creeps it just under the rim of his jeans, he’s expecting a certain reaction. Maybe a moan, maybe reciprocation.

He doesn’t expect Jedediah to spring back and sit up, cutting this- whatever it is- short.

“I was just-” he begins, but Jedediah shakes his head. He doesn’t say anything, though, so Octavius tries again. “You all right?”

Nod.

“You want to keep going?”

Jedediah’s eyes fall to his lap.

“You… don’t?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Jedediah butts in, flaming red as a tomato. “I just- it’s not- I’ve never-”

Aha.

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Octavius scoots back and sits up so his back is on the headboard of the bed and crosses his legs, facing Jed. “If you’re not ready, that’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be sorry.” Octavius shakes his head. “We’ll get there when we get there.”

“I want to, Octy, I really want to- but I just.” He stops, screwing his eyes shut.

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” Octavius promises. “Plus, you look cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“I do not look cute-”

“Oh, yes you do-”

Downstairs, the kitchen timer whines. They jump, startled, and Jed hurriedly leaps off the bed.

“Come on,” he says, “my oven’s kinda cold; they might not be done yet. But we should check?”

Octavius nods, following him down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Jedediah’s right- they aren’t quite done. He punches in another five minutes on the timer and stretches his arms. When he’s finished, he just sort of… stares at the oven. It smells heavenly.

Octavius walks up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist.

“Hey,” he says, into his neck. “I still think you’re a pretty great boyfriend.”

Jed laughs weakly. “Yeah, well. You’re a pretty good boyfriend, too.”

“Better than Colin Firth?”

“I’m gonna end you-”

o0O0o

They end up watching thirteen episodes of My Little Pony, eating all but five of the cookies (only because Jed’s already stuffed himself with cookie dough,) and falling asleep on top of the covers, snuggled against each other.

At the bottom of the bed, their socked feet nuzzle together.

o0O0o

Monday comes, and Octavius has never felt better. (Well, hisass has certainly felt better before, but he doesn’t mind all that much.) He’sabout to head down for lunch when something stops him.

“Octavius?”

Octavius turns to see that one kid- he really needs to getbetter at learning people’s names around this school- jogging towards him.

“Yeah?”

“Before you go to the cafeteria, I, uh.” The kid rubs hisneck. “You were, uh. With Lance, right?”

“I was,” he says, nodding. “Why?”

“So you aren’t anymore,” the kid says. “Like, you’re justwith that Jed guy now, right?”

He’ll have to discuss this separately with Lance later, butright now he knows the answer.

“Yes,” he says, nodding. “Lance’s all yours.”

The kid blushes. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean-”

“Calm down, I’m not gonna tell anyone.” Octavius laughs. “Now,come on down to lunch.”

o0O0o

Octy’s late. Octy’s never late. Jed taps his foot on the linoleumtiles on the cafeteria floor, hunching over his lunch tray.

He looks up as Octy sits down, but-

“Custer?”

“Hi, Jed!” Beside Custer, Octy gives a sheepish smile.

“Sorry I was late, I was just talking with Custer for asecond.”

“Right.” Jed can’t help but constantly notice the fact thatCuster is sitting between them. He nudges his tray a few inches away.

The rest of them come and eat, laughing alongside eachother. Custer easily becomes part of the group, even if he talks to Sac morethan anyone else. Teddy and Sac sit a little closer together than Jed remembersthem being, and Nicky just sort of… watches.

Jed doesn’t leave early, because that would look odd, but hehardly contributes to the conversation. And when lunch ends, Octy leaves withCuster, not even looking back at Jed once. Jed dumps his lunch tray in thetrash and heads wordlessly to fifth period.

o0O0o

Hey. You okay?

Jed looks at his phone in surprise.

Yeah, I’m fine, hewrites. Why?

Octavius’s reply comes nearly instantaneously.

You seemed off today.

Jedediah smiles, despite himself. Before he can startwriting a reply, another message comes from Octavius.

Sorry I didn’t talk toyou at lunch, Custer was being kind of annoying.

Jedediah laughs.

He seemed to like you,he writes, and sends it before he can feel bitter.

I think Custer isthirstier for the D than you are, Octavius sends back. He wouldn’t shut up about Lancelot.

Lance? Jedediah asks.

Yeah. I give it a weekbefore one of them asks the other out.

Jedediah’s heart soars.

Come over thisweekend? He asks, and the two minutes it takes for Octavius to reply arethe longest in his life.

Sure xoxo

He makes himself a grilled cheese and takes it to his room after school,humming happily. Their project’s done, they’ve turned it in, Ms. Orsay waspleasantly surprised, and best of all- no one’s home.

He locks himself in his room and buries himself in his book. Which, ofcourse, means that the hours tick by without his notice. And soon enough, hehears a knock on his door and knows exactly who it is.

“Jed, you in there?”

Jed rolls over, turning another page in his book. “Yeah, dad.”

“I cleaned up your mess in the kitchen.”

“Thanks.” He doesn’t look up from his book, but he can hear his dad openingthe door and practically feel the stare being fixed on him.

“Don’t you have a game this weekend? You should be practicing.”

“Dad, I’m fine.”

“Hey, don’t go after me- I just cleaned up all your shit in the kitchen.”

Jed rolls his eyes. “Dad, I said thank you.”

“And then you said I’m fiiiiinnnnne,stupid adult.” His dad squishes his face up and stomps his feet.

“I didn’t say that last part.”

“Well, I can read it. On your little readerboard.” His dad mimics a messageflashing across his forehead. “It says stupidadult.”

“Dad, I wasn’t thinking that,” Jed says, closing his book and trying for asmile.

“No, I can read your readerboard.”

“Well.” He sets his book to the side. “I can read your readerboard, and it says stupidteenager.”

His dad raises an eyebrow and chuckles. “That’s not what it says.”

“No, I can read it,” Jed insists. “I can read your readerboard.”

“Well, you can’t read very well,” his dad says, “because it actually saysmessy, slobby teenager.”

“Right.” His room’s pretty bad, he has to admit. He shrugs.

“Clean your crap up, Jed.”

And with that, his dad closes his door. Jed picks his book up and goes backto reading, focusing his thoughts on the story of Jay Gatsby and not on the sound of his father’s voice.He means well, though, he really does. He’s just… him. There’s nothing wrongwith his dad; he’s never felt unsafe, or anything. It’s all fine.

But yes. Gatsby.