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“Did you hear about this?” a classmate asked, holding up a headline about the latest online challenge.
Apollo already had his phone out before he was even finished reading.
***
“Hello?”
“Clay, it’s me.”
Clay knew that, and momentarily wasn’t sure if Apollo was so technologically out of touch that he had forgotten about caller ID. “Is something wrong, Apollo?”
“No, nothing’s wrong, nothing’s wrong, just…” Apollo seemed to be weighing something especially difficult. “I need you to promise me something.”
“I love you? I’m not going anywhere? My admiration for the weather guy is strictly academic and does not foreshadow a desire to abandon my current life for the glamor of showbiz?”
“Can you promise me you will never put laundry detergent in your mouth for any reason?”
Clay narrowed his eyes. “...Why?”
“You will be tempted.”
“No kidding. It’s the kind of thing that’s a thousand times harder to know as soon as somebody brings it up out loud.”
“I could say the same about that weather guy thing,” Apollo responded. “Just… please? I, uh, challenge you never to put laundry detergent in your mouth.”
Clay lightly rubbed his forehead. “I will not put laundry detergent in my mouth. I promise.”
“Thank you. I love you, too. See you later?”
“See you.”
***
Apollo opened the door to his apartment and was immediately greeted with the sound of “You owe me one hundred thirty-eight dollars and ninety-two cents.”
Clay was sitting on the couch, glaring at him.
“Why…” Apollo interrupted himself by remembering the events of the day. “Isn’t that a pretty specific number of views you’re expecting?”
“I ran a model. It had a pretty high level of confidence.”
“I’m not totally up on my stats,” Apollo said, “but I don’t think that’s what level of confidence means.”
“It’s the only sensible amount.”
“Zero is the only sensible amount.”
“Just imagine .” Pain and longing appeared on Clay’s face. “I could have had one of the best vids on the market. Think of the subscribers .”
“Think of the emergency room bill.”
“No, it would be completely safe, it would just look like I’m being dangerous.” His eyes sparked. “I would do flips and tricks and whatever, but the whole time I’ve got a bag in my mouth so that even if the plastic breaks, it can’t affect me.”
Apollo decided not to press for the exact logistics of the bag-in-mouth plan. “Why can’t you put this kind of planning into projects that will make more than a hundred and forty dollars?”
“Baby steps,” Clay said. “I can’t carry out full Machiavellian plots for cash before I’ve even graduated, not if I want to go to space.”
“Of course not,” Apollo replied, taking off his shoes and going over to be next to Clay.
“Ah-ah-ah!” Clay put a leg out on the spot where Apollo was about to sit. “Pay me first.”
“You are the most handsome guy I know and I would like to pet your hair.”
Without breaking his chilly glare, Clay removed his leg from the couch. Apollo sat, and Clay harumphed his head and shoulders onto Apollo’s lap.
“I know you pretty well, it turns out,” Apollo said, running his fingers through Clay’s hair. “I was right to call you.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“You’re doing well at the challenge I set for you.” Apollo tried.
“Better. We could vlog about me not putting laundry detergent in my mouth. Call it the Challenge Challenge or whatever. Not as many views, but I’d reclaim some bragging rights.”
“I don’t think ‘not putting toxic material in your mouth’ is the grand achievement you think it is.”
“I’m willing to let the viewers decide.”
Apollo continued giving his attention to Clay’s hair as they sat in silence for a moment.
“Would a movie make you feel better?” Apollo asked when he sensed Clay’s storminess not improving.
“Is there a movie about a guy whose boyfriend won’t let him achieve his dreams?”
“...Jesus Christ Superstar?”
That got a laugh out of Clay. “I’ll leave that up to you. I’m just as happy keeping things quiet.”
Apollo decided not to put on a movie, and simply redoubled his efforts in progress.
“Thanks for tethering me,” Clay said at last.
“What?”
“You’ll tell me when I have a bad idea,” Clay said. “I need that. Sometimes I’m hours into something and I’m still not sure if I’m off my rocker, just because I don’t know if anybody’s brave enough to tell me if I am.”
“Oh, trust me, I won’t be keeping quiet.”
“You’d better not.” Clay spun a bit to face up towards Apollo. “And maybe that money is a small price to pay for knowing you won’t let me fly off towards the sun.”
“It’s the wrong celestial body, after all.”
“I’d still like the money, though.”
“How about dessert instead?”
Clay perked up. “Go on…”
“I could get cupcakes frosted with the same highly edible color scheme as the, uh, pods.”
“We could eat them on our vlog! You’re a genius! Kiss me hello.” Clay reached up, leaned up, and smiled, to accent his absolute mood reversal.
Apollo accepted both the kiss and his fate. “I wasn’t sure that you were serious about that video.”
“But you’re not telling me not to do it.”
“I’m picking my battles.” Apollo cradled Clay, not willing to stop attending to his hair now that he’d started. “This one won’t fly you into the sun. It might be a misfire towards Saturn, but the sun? No way.”
Clay seemed to consider it. “I could handle Saturn. It’s the best planet, as you know.”
“Now you’re just trying to rile me up.”
Clay shrugged, a shit-eating grin on his face nonetheless.
Crisis fully averted , Apollo thought at last.