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It feels rather like a game of tug-of-war, if he feels like putting it in such a playful light.
It's not playful, of course. It feels like, rather than being one of the players, he's the rope instead. And pulling him forcefully in opposite directions are his desires - his want to be honest with his feelings, to tell people how he feels - and what he thinks he can call his survival instinct - his want to not be mocked, and ostracized, and shunned by his closest, dearest friends.
The game is constant, but it's not always a terribly competitive one. Sometimes the two 'teams' are just barely tugging, allowing him to choose freely which one he actually wants to win this time.
But other times, they are pulling with all their might, until the strength of both threaten to tear him in two.
Tonight, it seems, is a night where they want to rip him apart.
He stands in front of the mirror in the bathroom, attached to the room he shares with Nate. He'd come in here with the excuse of wanting to fix his hair, but the truth is that he'd needed a moment to breath.
Nate's discussion with the teachers had, apparently, gone over well. They agreed to allow him to dance with Everett, should he win Prom King alongside Missy.
"Maybe she won't win," he whispers. No matter how low and breathy he makes the words, they still sound painfully loud in the small room.
Even worse than the volume is the fact that he knows she will win. It's inevitable. Maybe if JB would be there, a small chance would be there for Missy to lose, but that wouldn't be of much help, either. This was her idea, after all. She would likely talk to the teachers about her dancing with Jeremy, and then the same outcome for himself would come to fruition - he would have to dance with Nate.
"It's just a dance, just a dance..."
He clenches his hands around the edge of the sink, his knuckles paling as he clings tighter and tighter. He wishes desperately that he could force himself to believe that statement.
By the time he and Nate arrive to the dance, it's in full swing. People all around them are dancing exuberantly, bright smiles and laughs that are barely heard above the booming music.
It's nice. It makes Everett forget for a moment that he's in danger of splitting.
"So, are you gonna dance with anyone else aside from me?" Everett asks, playfully nudging Nate's side.
"If someone asks, I guess," Nate says with a casual shrug. "I'm not really interested in it otherwise, though. You should know that."
He does know, though. Everett knows far too well. Nate would probably not be here if it weren't expected of him for numerous reasons.
One of the biggest ones, Everett thinks, is because of JB. He feels terrible for being the final straw for her, for causing her to collapse in the meeting room. She had specifically been worried about those of the group who wouldn't be at prom, after all - or at least that was her cover story.
He feels an almost physical yank, begging him to tell Nate the truth. Tell him the real reason JB set up that meeting.
Before he can even part his lips, though, his eyes catch on familiar green hair under the lights. His eyes widen. "What the fuck..."
His shocked murmur doesn't go unnoticed. Nate blinks, and turns in the direction he's looking. Almost immediately, he sees what - or rather, who - he's staring at.
At the edge of the room, fiddling awkwardly with a camera, stands one Jeremy King. He doesn't seem to have noticed them yet, but Everett's confusion won't let that last. He walks up to their groupmate, and he can practically feel Nate at his heels.
"Hey, er, Jeremy," Everett says, forgoing the normal insult he might use on an ordinary day. "What're you doing here?"
'Why aren't you with JB' is what he means.
Jeremy looks up, passive. He takes a moment, seeming to consider his words carefully. "I... I felt bad, that she wouldn't be able to come," he says, his voice barely able to be heard over the rest of the noise. "I asked if she would mind if I left her alone for a bit to take some pictures for her. She said it was fine, and Lynn stayed back to watch over her. So... Here I am."
Everett's heart sinks. He feels bad, suddenly, that he didn't think to do that for her. And based on the brief glimpse of Nate's expression he catches from the corner of his eye, he thinks he must be thinking along the same lines.
"Um... What are you taking pictures of?" Everett brings himself to ask.
"People," Jeremy says idly. "Mostly people I've seen her hang out with around school, and stuff." He fiddles with the camera some more - Everett can now see that he's looking through the pictures he's taken. "I convinced Bae and Pran to come, too. Just for a few minutes each, but they at least both danced. Got pictures of them."
Everett feels himself smile a bit at the thought of Pran dancing with his usual stone-like expression, and Bae moving his limbs slowly to fast-paced song.
"Do you want to get some pictures of us, too, then?" Nate asks, tilting his head slightly. Everett detects a slight desperation in his voice - one that he thinks Jeremy might not notice.
Whether or not he does, the shorter male gives a nod. "Yeah, I do. If you don't mind," he says. "But I'll probably just take them when you're dancing for the king and queen thing."
The reminder of what would be happening later in the night makes Everett's stomach knot up. "Oh... Yeah, right, that makes sense," he agrees, his voice slightly strained.
"Mm." Jeremy doesn't seem to care one way or the other what Everett thinks of his decision. "You can both go and do whatever you were doing before you saw me, then."
"We weren't really-"
Before Nate can finish his statement of their activities - or lack thereof - they find their conversation promptly interrupted by a shy, feminine voice. "Um... Excuse me, Nate?"
Nate and Everett both turn to face the girl, mostly out of shock and a desire to see who exactly got the nerve to directly speak to Nate. It's a girl with dark purple hair and deep red eyes - Everett distantly recalls JB's fascination with 'rare colors' at some point earlier in the year, and thinks she would have gotten a kick out of her.
"Um... Yes?" Nate says, slow and almost unsure. The girl draws in a deep breath, and then meets his eyes.
"Would... Would you maybe dance with me?"
Some distance behind the girl, if Everett cared to look, he would see the girl's friends enthusiastically grinning and quietly clapping to themselves.
But he doesn't. His eyes are wide, as if he's the one that has been asked to dance, not Nate. He snaps his gaze to Nate - who now no longer looks shocked, but rather slightly confused instead.
"Um... Sure," he says slowly. Then he gathers some more of his nerve, enough to say, "But don't get any funny ideas! We're high school students, you know, and we're not even dating!"
The girl beams, and grasps Nate's arm before he can take back his invitation. If she notices the horrified expression he has at her touch, she doesn't do anything about it, and simply drags him out to the dance floor.
Everett watches, his feet rooted to their place. He knows he could find someone else to dance with. He knows he could dance on his own - it's a fast song, so it wouldn't be weird like it would for a slow song. And, hey, his mouth is dry, maybe a drink of punch would be nice, too!
Despite knowing he could do all of this, he stays where he is, staring with wide, almost blank eyes at the space his friend once occupied.
He only snaps back to reality when he hears Jeremy clear his throat. His head turns almost fast enough to break his neck - though thankfully he doesn't - to meet Jeremy's orange eyes.
He lowers his gaze slightly, looking at the camera. His eyes soften.
"Why are you doing that?" he whispers.
Jeremy looks at him. He looks almost angry - or maybe 'annoyed' would be a better word - that Everett had thought he needed to ask that. "I told you, I'm doing it for JB," he says, his very tone practically the epitome of 'duh'. "Why else?"
"No, I mean..." Everett flounders for a moment, searching for a phrase, or even a single word, to explain properly what he wants to ask. "Why are you doing it for her?"
He sees Jeremy's mouth open, but he interrupts, quickly clarifying once more, "And yeah, I know you said you felt bad 'cause she can't come. I'm talking about... Why you feel bad. Why you felt the need to do this, and why you couldn't just ignore that... That feeling, and just stay in your room."
Jeremy blinks, and stares at him. He seems almost shocked this time, like the possibility of staying in his room tonight hadn't even occurred to him. He turns his eyes down to his camera, and presses a button, going through the pictures he's taken so far. Everett watches, and waits, a knot in his throat as the two teams within him pull the rope - pull him - harder and harder, bringing him closer to snapping.
He wonders what will happen when he snaps. Will he faint, like JB did?
Before he can think on that, Jeremy gives him an answer. "She... She collapsed, you know."
Everett blinks. "I... I know. I was there."
"And Lynn... Lynn said that it was because she was drained. He said that what drains her is people insulting her, and saying... Saying the stuff that we always say." Jeremy sighs, but it's not a resigned one, or annoyed, or anything like that. "But I don't... I don't think that stuff about her. At all."
Everett blinks. "You don't?" he asks - but he thinks maybe he doesn't have to. He doesn't think it either, when he considers it.
"She's not self-absorbed - she's optimistic. She's not dumb, she just prefers to see the good things in people rather than the bad stuff. And maybe she does sometimes say stuff she shouldn't, but she says stuff that she knows we don't mind being commented on." He pauses, then says, "She asked me once on a date if I was depressed. Like, legitimately depressed. And she wasn't saying it to joke, either - she was concerned. She'd been joking just a few seconds before, but I said something that I guess worried her and she stopped." Jeremy tightens his hold on his camera, and Everett thinks he can see his hands shaking. "And... The reason she hides all her negative emotions is because she doesn't want to burden people she cares about. Which means that she does care about us..."
Now that Everett thinks about it, he wonders if he's ever seen JB exhibit a negative emotion genuinely.
Or a positive one.
"A-anyway," Jeremy says. Everett doesn't comment on his voice cracking - he wouldn't be much better in his place. "She cares about us... But she didn't ever know that we cared about her, too. She didn't know that I care about her." He holds up the camera, but doesn't meet Everett's eyes. "So I figured... This would be a good way to show her. I know she was looking forward to prom, after all."
Everett averts his gaze. "So... You're doing it to show your feelings," he summarizes. "To... Be honest about them."
Jeremy raises one eyebrow. "You're lucky I'm not Bae," he comments. "But yeah, that's it... Why were you asking about it?" He shifts, watching Everett carefully. "Is it... Because of Nate?"
Everett freezes. Sure, Jeremy had been in the room when he'd asked JB if she'd set up that 'private prom' for his sake, but still... It's jarring, to hear someone else speak of his feelings, even indirectly. Hell, he'd thought the guy was focused on JB at the time, anyway!
"...Yeah."
It feels liberating to confirm it out loud. Even if he didn't say the actual words.
He doesn't think he'd be able to say the words. As soon as he said that single word of confirmation, one of the teams - the one that wants him to stay quiet - practically chokes him in its desire to win. He swallows thickly, as if he actually is physically choking.
Jeremy seems almost oblivious to it, and turns his eyes to Nate on the dance floor. Everett follows his eyes - he thinks he would have looked even if Jeremy hadn't.
His movements are awkward. He doesn't like touching, or being touched. Everett knows this about Nate quite well. But the girl had asked, and he'd said yes, despite his misgivings.
'Because of JB?' Everett wonders.
He wonders how deeply that event had scared him. Sure, Nate had been the final blow, but... By now, surely, he also knew that it wasn't entirely his fault.
Why was he always so desperate to take on more responsibility than he had to? That had been something that always confused Everett.
"You should tell him."
Jeremy's words made Everett's thoughts shatter. He turns back to the green-haired groupmate, hoping to see a smirk or something else to indicate that he's joking.
But, sadly, there's nothing of the sort. Jeremy looks back at him with half-lidded, yet still resolute eyes. "He deserves to know, don't you think?"
"Fuck that!"
It's a little louder than he meant for it to be, and a few of the nearby teachers shush him. But he doesn't care. He simply glares at Jeremy. "Why would I risk my best friend over this? I've hidden it just fine so far, haven't I?"
Jeremy doesn't waver. "Disregarding the fact that he's not exactly the type to drop you over your feelings-" Everett knows that, but he doesn't want to admit it. "-I actually think that Nate and I are... Similar, in a certain way."
His annoyance gives way to confusion, and Everett simply blinks. "What?"
Jeremy sighs. "The reason JB confessed to me is because I'm not the type to talk about my feelings myself... If she hadn't done that, I likely would have sat on those feelings for much longer. Maybe even until graduation, or after. And Nate..." He glances over in the direction of where Nate is, but Everett forces himself to keep looking at Jeremy. "I don't think it's for the same reasons as me, but... I do think that if you're not the one to do something, then neither of you ever will."
The thought somehow makes his heart sink. Even though he's never been able to make a real decision on whether or not to confess, the thought that it's entirely up to him - the thought that Nate would never do anything, even if he does feel the same - is terrifying.
Jeremy seems to recognize the fear in his eyes, because he steps forward, eyes wary. "Everett...?"
Before Everett can manage to find anything - anything at all to say - the music in the room stops. Everett spins, eyes wide as a teacher makes his way up to the microphone on the stage.
It's time.
He watches as the teachers announce the prom king and queen. Originally, apparently, the queen was going to be JB, but with her absence - due to 'health related reasons', according to the teachers - Missy is elected. She seems grateful, but she notes that she'll give the crown to JB next time she sees her. And the king... The king is, of course, Nate. No contest there.
The teachers then announce the request Nate had made - 'thinking of Missy,' they say. Nate and Missy will dance with whoever they wish, just at the same time.
Missy, naturally, chooses to dance with her boyfriend. And Nate approaches Everett, a small, half-smile on his lips. He holds out a hand and tilts his head slightly. "Well?"
Nate doesn't mind touching him. Everett slowly reaches out and places his hand in Nate's, heart thudding like a drum in his chest. And there's no horrified, widened eyes. No stiff arms, no tense movements.
Nate pulls him onto the dancefloor, and the music begins. But Everett doesn't really notice. Nate's other hand settles on his hip, and he swallows thickly, heart aching as he places his own on Nate's shoulder.
He moves seamlessly with the other. It's almost ridiculous how easy it is to follow him, even though they've never danced together in their lives.
And yet his eyes stare intently at Nate's, and their dance doesn't suffer for it.
It's only towards the end that he realizes that Nate has been staring back at him. It's only then that he realizes that his eyes are reflecting familiar adoration, familiar love, back to him.
And it's then that he snaps.
As the song slowly draws to a close, Everett brings his hand up to wrap around Nate's neck. One of Nate's eyebrows raises, but there is no annoyance or rejection in his face - confusion, yes, but no rejection.
And there is still no rejection as he pulls Nate down. It gives him even more courage as he tilts his head up enough to press their lips together in a tentative kiss.
Apparently, rather than fainting, he has chosen to finally move. He has chosen to move in the direction he always knew he would end up choosing.
And quite frankly, it's the most freeing thing to ever happen to him.