Chapter Text

PART I.

i. call of duty

ALEX.

Drama. 

It's something Alex tried staying away from as much as possible. He's fine watching one on TV, especially since drama could happen not only on TV but in real life as well, which was a whole different story. At school he made sure to keep everyone, even his close friends, at an arm's length. He'd listen to their gossip and stories but he wouldn't get himself involved in their business. He's not the kind one could rely on. Besides, he came to school to study, and maybe focus on his Jazz band and looking cool with his bleached hair. That was until Montgomery de la Cruz happened . . .

Making his uneventful highschool life brutally colorful . . .

Alex was never bothered by Monty's existence in the first place. The guy's known for being a bully—a one dimensional kind—one that's good for nothing. If Monty happened to be a character in a book, his personality would be nothing but a bully. A dumb one at that. Nothing more, nothing less.

So, Alex knew from the start that Monty would be the guy he'd stay away from. Let alone speak with any of his friends, namely Bryce, Zach, Justin, Luke, Charlie, Diego and Scott. Those guys. Well, not all of them were bullies, but Alex believed in a saying his late grandmother told him: "Tell me who your friends are and I will tell you who you are." So, he saw all of them the same. 

And speaking of friends, Alex had a few and one of them was Tyler. He didn't know how their friendship began but eventually they became one. Although they're not the kind who tell each other secrets or anything personal, aside from school stuff and the things Tyler liked doing, Photography—he sometimes would show him some of his photographs. Perhaps that's one of the reasons Alex liked Tyler. They keep everything impersonal.

Then there's Jessica and Hannah, the ones who Alex mostly joined in for lunch. Maybe it's a girl thing to pry into one's business, but these are the people—especially Jessica—who he could tell stuff with; few things he just didn't tell anyone like events at home. But still keeping everything not too personal. And likewise, Jessica and Hannah would tell him things, their lovelife, crushes, you name it. He never thought of dating either of them due to his lack of confidence and hesitation to break their friendship.

One morning Alex was walking to school when, as usual, Monty and his stupid friends were hanging around under a tree—their spot before class started—when he heard Monty's voice shouting Tyler's name.

"Ty-ty!" he said.

Alex didn't know why he bothered to look which he completely regretted, especially it's not him being called. The next thing he saw was Monty showing his bare ass to the world. Heat rushed to his face and he abruptly averted his gaze, however, Monty's ass engraved in his brain, or worse, at the back of his eyelids, whenever he shut his eyes, the moron's ass was there. And Alex hated to admit that . . . it was a sight to see.

No, Alex. What he did is offensive! He scandalized your friend.

And another no, he's not actually thinking such a thing towards a guy, not to mention, an asshat like Monty.

It was their Biology and Alex busied himself studying their activity for that day, when he heard Monty pestering Tyler . . . again. Well, Monty normally does that to Tyler who's mostly good at ignoring him, but this time Alex thought it's getting out of hand.  Rather, too much. Especially after what he witnessed earlier. Then Monty began calling his friend a pervert—ironically—something that caught Alex's attention completely.

"So, where's that picture you took of Hannah dressing up by her window!" Monty said. Then his friends laughed. 

Alex knew Tyler's big crush on Hannah, but this was the first time he's hearing about this so-called picture.

Tyler just lowered his head and wouldn't speak.

Alex watched some more until Monty laid a hand on his friend, jabbing at his shoulder. It was light but Alex still took it offensive nonetheless.

And he didn't know what's gotten into him that he felt the urge to do something.

"Hey!" 

Silence rose from the laboratory room. Before Alex realized it, he found himself standing up with his hands balled into fists by his side. Heart drumming loudly as he met eye to eye with Monty.

Monty's expression changed from slight shock to a little amused. The corner of his lips pulling up.

Again, Alex regretted everything he did that day. 

It's safe to say, it did stop Monty from bothering Tyler, but if Alex only fucking knew it would only lead to him catching Monty's attention instead . . .  calling and bothering him non-stop!

And so it began . . .

"Alex!" Monty shouted across the hallway, letting everybody know his name, as he strode towards him along with some friends.

Alex inwardly groaned and sent a glare only to find Monty already a few inches away from him.

Monty had this cocky look on his face. 

He placed a hand on Alex's shoulder and leveled their gazes. "Fix that face of yours. I just wanted to apologize about Tyler, okay?" With a pat, neither friendly nor threatening, he simply walked past him, smirking like an asshole.

But Heaven forbid, it didn't stop there.

During lunch break, when Monty happened to pass by their table, he would take a second to stop, lean to his ears and whisper, "I'm sorry about Tyler." 

Even on the bus ride to school, Monty would sit next to him only to say the same thing, "I'm sorry about Tyler." It's getting annoying! Then the idiot would laugh and leave, going back to throw shits with his friends, but there were times that Monty would stay sitting beside him throughout the whole ride. And it's the most agonizing ride ever!

And those were just a few incidents of Monty trying to get his attention just to apologize about Tyler which felt like blatant mockery. There were more, and some were just completely embarrassing. Like this one time in one of their lectures in their English Literature. The book they had read was about forgiveness, so their teacher asked them if there were things they regretted and wished to be forgiven of. And of course, Monty raised his hand. Alex could only stay still in his chair when he wanted to disappear, having an inkling what's gonna happen next. 

And like what he expected, Monty stated the following lines, "There's this guy I wanted to apologize to, about what I did to his friend, Tyler. I know it's not good what I did. But I learned my lesson. So let me take this chance to apologize to him." 

With a signal from their teacher, Monty began scanning his eyes around the four cornered room until he found who he's looking for. Alex tried his best not to waver from Monty's surprisingly sincere gaze. 

"I'm sorry, Alex."

For a moment there, Alex almost believed Monty was sincere until he sat down. Monty tried to suppress himself from snickering that his face turned red. Alex was this close to call him out, but no, he wouldn't stoop on his level. Guys like Monty were dumb! Stupid! Fool! An airhead! Good thing he's good at sports or else Liberty had already kicked him out long ago.

And it went on for three weeks—that annoyingly weird thing Monty did—until his pestering subsided. Alex smiled to himself. He won! The bully got tired of him.

Or so he thought.

"Your hair's too gay." He heard Monty commented behind him during their Algebra class.

Alex froze in his seat, willing himself not to burst. He said in gritted teeth, "Fuck off!"

Monty snickered and it sounded really annoying. Why did everything he does seem so villainy? 

"Can you say that again?" Monty taunted.

Alex tilted his head slightly to his direction. "What? Fuck off?'

"Mr. Standall, language!" Ms. Gonzalez warned, which earned another laugh from the motherfucker.

Alex gritted his jaw, hands balled into fists. He started to take in slow deep breaths while imagining stabbing Monty. It was satisfying.

* * *

"Blondie!" Monty came jogging towards him as they gathered in the gym for their gym class.

"I have a name, dick."

"Yeah, it's blondie."

"And you're dick."

The corner of Monty's lips pulled up. "I like that blondie has a foul mouth and knows how to use it. I wonder what more things that foul mouth of yours can do."

Alex shot him a glare, only momentarily. "You wanna know?"

Monty stepped closer, smirking.

Alex licked his lips, parted his lips and said, "To tell you this… Get lost."

"Is this guy bothering you again?" Jessica appeared to his side, and Alex wished she would quit it. He didn't want to look like he needed help—he didn't—from this dick.

Monty looked at each of them, and laughed. 

"Bunch of losers," he muttered, shaking his head, as he jogged away.

Losers? Alex was more than determined to show him who the real loser was. And as if reading his mind, Monty began tossing the volleyball his way, and Alex got hit pretty bad on his shoulder.

"What the fuck?" Alex glared at him, but it all went to waste as 'dick' continued tossing and catching, playing volleyball. 

Alex pulled his sleeve and positioned himself, ready to show Monty he's not someone he could treat this way.

"Yo, blondie!" Monty called instead, referring to him, as he easily caught the ball after Tony striked it back to his side. 

And it infuriated Alex how Monty seemed unaffected when he's fuming inside. He kept his glare.

"I have a proposition to make!" Monty began walking towards him.

"I'm not interested!"

"Just listen! Your freedom is at stake here."

"Free–" Alex scoffed. "Freedom? You gotta be kidding me."

"I'm serious." Monty stopped a little too close to him, uninvitedly invading his space by putting a hand on his shoulder. Alex turned rigid.

"Let's meet at Bryce's place later." Monty pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. "Gimme your hand."

Alex hated to be doing this, just going along with what this 'dick' would say. He held his palm out. 

Monty slammed the paper onto his hand. "Here's the address. They have a pool house. Let's meet there." 

Alex waited for Monty to let his hand go, but it lingered a little too long before he did.

Alex stared at the paper with a surprisingly neat handwriting. No way Monty writes this well.

"I'm not going." He looked at Monty. "I'm not fucking going."

"If you don't then . . . sure. Like I told you, your freedom is at stake here."

"What do you want?"

Monty smiled. "You know Call of Duty?"

It's one of Alex's favourite games. He reluctantly nodded.

"You play that game?"

Again, Alex just nodded.

"Then play with me."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Easy peasy, right?"

He gave Monty a good look. He couldn't read what this motherfucker had going on. But what could go wrong in a little Call of Duty game?

"Sure," he said before he realized what he was doing. Fuck! It's too late to take it all back.

Monty had this winning smile. "Cool! See you there then!" He patted his shoulder and hopped away.

Alex followed him with his gaze. He would ditch him. He could do that, right? Freedom my ass.

* * *

Later that night he found himself driving to Bryce's place not knowing it's a trap to the devil's lair. 

Warm greetings welcomed Alex as he got to Bryce's pool house. There was Justin, Bryce, Zach and the dick himself, Monty, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as if they're close friends, ushering him inside  All Alex saw was a bunch of hypocrites.

"Alexander! You're right on time. Zach and I just finished a round. Have a seat!" Monty had this grin on his face.

"Alex, I'm so glad you could come" Bryce said, holding a bottle of beer in hand, offering him the space between him and Justin—who's smoking joint—on the couch in front of the TV where the title screen of Call of Duty game was being displayed.

Although, Alex admitted that Bryce's place wasn't a joke. He's living the dream; in a fucking mansion with a huge pool. No wonder he's such a brat and surrounded by these leeches.

"Justin, get off!  Let Alex have his place!" Monty yanked Justin's thigh, and the latter scooted to give both of them enough space.

Alex reluctantly sat down only to be sandwiched to the armrest as Monty plopped next to him. He could only roll his eyes in annoyance. Why did he even come here? What the fuck was he thinking?

"Here!" Monty handed him the joystick. "The game would be if you beat me and get a higher score then you're free."

"What? All I know is I'm only supposed to play with you. You didn't mention those conditions."

"Yeah, we are going to play. You just have to beat me."

"Playing with you and beating you are two different things."

"Why? You scared?" Monty looked at him in a slight mockery but at the same time it was  deadpanned. 

Alex scoffed, "No," and grabbed the joystick from Monty's hand. 

Smile broke into Monty's face. "That's what I'm talkin' 'bout!"

As expected they chose the Free For All Mode. 

They waited until players from around the globe filled the slots needed.

Sweat started to form in Alex's hand. He should've seen this coming. What if he couldn't beat Monty? He's confident about his gaming skills, however, Monty might be better.

The matchmaking finished and the game finally started.  He'd do his best! He had to win this! He had to!

These bunch could be unpredictable. One thing, they could be all friendly and then make fun of you next.

Alex had to keep his guard up.

He shot at every opponent he saw when his character got killed.

"Gotcha!" Monty said.

Shit!

Alex silently in concentration busily clicked on the joystick after respawning. Aiming to find Monty's character and kill him or at least get the highest scores. The first one to kill 30 in a span of 10 minutes wins.

So far Alex was on the lead. He hid a smirk when he finally got a shot at Monty . . . and then another . . . and another. . .

"Fuck, dude! You're on fire!" Monty said, but his desperation to keep up was obvious by how hard he maneuvered his fingers through the joystick.

And just like that the game finished.

Alex leaned back on the couch. "I won," he said, monotonously.

Monty turned to him in amazement. "You're a really a good shot!"

Alex moved his eyes to him and shrugged. "So, for our little deal. You leave Tyler and I alone." He stood up, throwing the joystick to the side, when a hand grabbed his wrist. 

It was Monty.

"Come on, stay a little."

"Yeah." Bryce seconded. "You just came here. Feel free to dip in our pool. Or have a drink. Do you drink?"

"Or smoke some weed?" Justin offered his joint.

Alex grimaced. And glanced around. He thought he could use a little night swimming.

"I'll go check the pool," he mumbled and dragged his feet outside. For the first time, he appreciated this peace. No annoying guys sticking their noses to his business. He couldn't believe he'd ended up in their lair and spent some time, rather, wasted some time here. But perhaps, Alex should try and experience being with those popular kids even for tonight.

He stared at the pool longer than necessary then lifted his head up at the starry night sky. It was beautiful. He then closed his eyes and submitted his body to the pool and floated. He became one with the water and the skies above. He could stay like this forever.

As he opened his eyes, he caught Monty standing by the poolside, staring at him with eyes glazed over alcohol.

Alex frowned. "What?"

Monty just smirked and fell into the pool.

Holy sh—

ii. in the water

MONTY.

Monty's ribs hurt. He had another fight with his dad last night. He shouldn't have come home. He should've just stayed at Bryce's. But it's not like he could just abandon his mom and Estela, his sister.

And the morning wasn't treating him well either. He skipped breakfast. He just wanted to get out of the house as soon as possible and worse he had not enough money to buy himself some breakfast.

His eyes stopped at the coffee shop across the street near Liberty. Monet's. Shit, he had never been inside that low-cost shop but it's not like he could afford the coffee they serve too. Maybe he should try doing part time there like Justin and some of his schoolmates. He slowed down when something interesting caught his eyes . . .  or someone.

Alex Standall.

He's sitting beside the huge glass windows, sipping some . . . obviously coffee.

A smirk grazed Monty's lips. Then it turned grim.

That fucking queer had a lot of surprises in him. First, yelling at him out of the blue, that one time, when he was bugging his friend—or boyfriend—Tyler, Monty snorted to himself. And the same reason it caught his interest. Monty never saw Alex to have it in him.  And second, beating him in Call of Duty. 

He remembered coughing off water last night, and everyone was surrounding him. Bryce said he jumped in the pool and Alex saved him. Heaviness sank in Monty. Alex gave him the kiss of life, that's what they said.

He unthinkingly touched his lips. Alex kissed him?

Monty glanced back at Monet's and something tugged inside his chest as he stared at the guy who saved his life.

Bullshit!

His friends must only be making fun of him and making that up. Unless he witnessed Alex do it, which he didn't. So, it's not true. It didn't happen.

Zach and Justin waved at him as he finally reached Liberty. They're already huddled under the tree—their tree—with Bryce, Charlie, Scott, Diego and Luke. 

"Yo! The monkey club is complete!" Monty greeted, exchanging high five with Justin.

"We actually thought you're not gonna make it after last night!" Justin said.

"Have you thanked your saviour yet?" Zach teased.

"Alex is the only missing monkey here," Bryce interjected, which hit Monty's ear in a bad way.

"What?"

"You invited him last night, right? He's part of the club!"

"Fuck no! We had a bet." And Monty thought the bet was timely, now he need not to deal with that faggot.

"Bet?" Zach repeated.

"Well, just foolish bets. I lost and he won."

"What's the deal?" Justin smiled.

"I'll stop bothering him if he beats me."

Bryce laughed. "Dude, that sounds pussy!"

Pussy! Monty flinched hearing his father's voice echoing his head. He despised that damned word.

"Oh, there he is!" Bryce moved his gaze upfront and shouted, "STANDALL! ALEX STANDALL!"

Monty wished he could stop Bryce but it's not like he had a say when it came to Bryce. He began turning around, facing his back at Alex, thinking of something to talk about with Justin and Zach. However, unfortunately, he heard himself say, "Did you see how Standall played last night?"

"You mean how you lost against him?" Justin crossed his arms.

"Why didn't anyone tell me you had something going on last night?" Luke protested.

"Alex!" Bryce continued calling when the latter attempted to walk ahead and ignore them. "Standall! Hey! Come here! . . . Don't be shy!"

"What do you want?"

Monty stiffened hearing that voice. He refused to turn around to face him. He stayed still in front of the tree.

"Well, it's your lucky day today!" Bryce explained. Monty wished he would quit it!

Alex scoffed and mumbled under his breath which Monty caught anyway. "Lucky? I guess not."

Pressing his lips, Monty suppressed a smile. And then he spun around and decided to interrupt Bryce before his plan of bringing Alex to their group succeeded.

"Well, I just wanted to confirm something last night," Monty said, putting an arm around Alex and his insides twisted in a very odd—which made him sick—way, having to catch Alex's scent that unregrettably drew him in. He cleared his throat. All of his friends' eyes on them. "Did you save me last night?"

Alex pushed him away slightly but with force, catching him off guard. "You were a moron jumping in the pool."

Monty heard his friends laugh. He tried to save face.

"What the fuck did you say?" He took a threatening step when Bryce put a hand to his chest.

"Calm down, Monty." Bryce turned to Alex. "Well, our friend here just wanted to confirm if you gave him a kiss of life?"

Both Monty and Alex flustered. But Alex frowned even more. Hands balling into fists. "It's called mouth to mouth resuscitation. My mom taught it to me."

"You're mom?" Justin snorted.

Alex glared at him. "She's a nurse."

"So . . . you did?" Monty could feel the color draining off his face.

"What's it to you? Don't worry, I regret doing it! Should've let you die." Then Alex walked off. 

Bryce and the others laughed again, and began putting their hands around Monty, touching and shaking him.

"Man, Alex is really something!" Bryce said.

"Right!" Luke agreed.

"You guys, that's such a dick move," Zach interrupted. "Monty, I think it's best you thank Alex for what he did."

Sometimes, Monty hated Zach when he turned into mama mode. "Then do it, since it's your idea."

* * *

Monty kept staring at Alex's way. Not that he could help it. He's grateful Alex saved him. It's just . . . too gay. What he did. The fuck was Alex thinking? Didn't he have any other way to save him aside from mouth to mouth?

Just imagining it made Monty want to vomit . . .

Yet . . . an indescribable heat zipped down his body, stopping between his legs making him shift in his seat. He tore his eyes away from the . . . gay kid and tried focusing to the lecture.

Lunch finally came!!!

And today Monty lived for free lunch! This bland sandwich was his first bite for that day. He had no right to complain. The sandwich was his closest thing to Heaven.

Munching happily, he spotted Alex eating Doritos. Was that his lunch? His chewing slowed.

And he couldn't help noticing that the queer was always with Jessica and Hannah. Was that his way to cover up his sexuality? Monty smiled at the thought. He bet Alex was digging him.

Ew! Gross!

Yet his heart skipped a beat.

"Yo! Bryce! Can I stay at your place later?"

"Heh. Why? Daddy went nuts at you again?"

"Yeah. Broke my fucking ribs. So?"

"Good thing, you can still stand properly. Well, you know you're always free to stay in the pool house right?"

Justin exchanged looks with him. And Monty understood. He's gonna have some company for tonight. He and Justin almost had the same wretched home life. Their folks didn't care about them that much, maybe that's something which connected him with Justin somehow. Hell, Monty treated Bryce and Justin more of his family than his own; his brothers.

* * *

"Justin, focus! We're losing!" Monty aggressively tapped on the joystick.

Justin took a long drag of his joint. And the junkie collapsed down the couch, staring at the boring white ceiling and began counting stars. The joystick slides off his hands.

"Fuck—" Monty continued shooting at their opponents. They lost but he got the highest score from the losing team.

Justin was asleep. Great!

Monty tossed the joystick to the side, rolling his eyes. It's fucking boring and he couldn't sleep. Soon, his mind drifted to the kid with bleached hair.

So, did Alex really . . . like, where their lips actually . . .  touched? Monty's mind began drifting off somewhere, imagining the scenario that night, which was probably far from what really happened.

He imagined Alex pumping the water off his chest. But it's no use. So, he inhaled a lungful of air and leaned down towards him, opening his mouth and . . . Monty absently touched his lips.

Dammit! He's starting to think things he shouldn't think! And feeling things he shouldn't feel!

He stood up, and searched for his phone. Where the fuck was it?

He looked under the couch, the coffee table . . .  And found it on the floor beside the television.

Fucking hell!

Dragging his feet, he lazily picked it up and texted Bryce.

Monty: Can you ask your maid to bring some booze here?

Bryce: Go to sleep. The last thing I need is your dead drunk self floating in the pool. Remember what you did the other night? Idek what's gotten into that dumb head of yours.

Bryce had to really fucking bring that up. And geez! He's really good with insults.

Monty threw his phone somewhere and plopped down the couch, shut his eyes, waiting for sleep.

He looked over at Justin who's already snoring. Perhaps smoking a joint could've helped him sleep? No, weed had a different effect on him. Simply put, not good.

But sometimes . . . it could be useful. 

He crawled over to Justin and began feeling his jeans pockets for some joint, because Justin always brought a few with him. Smile crept on his lips as he obtained one. Justin never disappoints. Then he moved to the other pocket and pulled the lighter.

Sitting back down, he brought the stick between his lips and lit it up. The first inhale of smoke made Monty lean back on the couch and shut his eyes . . .  Just what he needed.

Calmness began to shoot inside his body after a number of drag.

The next thing he did after finishing the joint, was go to the pool. And he saw Alex laying there. And he looked beautiful. If he jumped again, would that homo appear and kiss him again?

* * *

"Seriously, Monty, what's with you and the pool?" Bryce asked him as they gathered in the lockers getting ready for the first period.

"What's with me and the pool?" Monty shut his locker. He remembered diving in the pool and it was an embarrassing decision to make, because he knew who he was thinking of when he did it. And that someone disappeared as he jumped in, the same someone who he spotted from afar, making his way to his own locker, carrying a guitar on his back and an amplifier on one hand.

"You dipped in it again last night. I warned you, right? It's good you didn't drown. Unless that's what you're planning all along."

Monty was too preoccupied staring to even give a damn as to what Bryce was whining.

The homo played guitar? Impossible!

Hannah and Jessica approached Alex as usual, excited over his guitar. Monty could only guess what they're talking about.

"Yo, Monty!" Justin came approaching out of nowhere and stopped, standing a little too close in front of him. "Did you take one of my joints? I know I have four left before I fall asleep. Now, I only have three."

Monty jabbed his forehead with a finger. "Yeah, dingbat! I couldn't sleep last night."

"You owe me ten bucks."

Ten—

Monty glanced sideways. "Dude, I can't even feed myself, thanks to the hearty breakfast we had at Walker's."

"Then you should've thought twice before stealing my joint. I worked my ass off for every gram in each stick. A life and death situation."

Monty smirked. "Chill! All I know you just do part time at Monet's."

Justin stared right into his eyes, which Monty found a bit threatening. "Don't tell nobody about this. I deal, Monty. So, my life's at risk here."

Frown creased Monty's brows, digesting the information. It shouldn't have surprised him, except it still did. "To who?"

"Doesn't matter. So, don't ever do that again. You just have to ask." Then Justin left.

It's just one stick! Justin was overreacting.

Now, he owed him ten bucks. Monty pulled his empty pockets. Great!

A hand landed on his shoulder. Then Bryce said, cocking his head to the direction Justin disappeared. "What's with Foley?" 

Monty shrugged, and turned away. "See you around." Then he jogged away. 

Unfortunately, he's heading towards Alex's way, so he decided to piss the guy off a little by  giving his guitar a tap from below, slightly shoving it up, almost tripping Alex and catching the girls by surprise.

"Nice guitar!" He said, running away and laughed when his plan went well receiving a reaction from Alex who cussed after him.

"Fuck off!"

iii. the drinking game

ALEX.

"Alex, concentrate!" Their band director, Mr. Stevens, called him out again for the third time after Alex failed to follow.

Alex huffed and stopped strumming; his guitar created a missed note. 

"I'm trying." 

And he was. Although, it's hard for him to do so. Bryce and his gang kept lurking around him. And he thought—as what he and Monty dealt about—they'd stop bothering him. But no, they did not. Bryce—much to Alex's horror—came to sit next to him during their Social Studies and attempted to invite him to hang out with them later again. Alex said no, making his Jazz band practice as an excuse why he couldn't come, even though he doesn't have anywhere to go nor anything to do right after this. Look where it got him when he said yes to Monty's invitation to play Call of Duty. The guy's freedom speech was bullshit! Now they're trying to get him in their troublesome group.

Speaking of Monty, Alex noticed the dick from afar, at the football field, having one of their afternoon drills, looking in his direction—either he's watching or just casually staring, Alex couldn't tell. But what the fuck's he looking at?

Then Bryce appeared next to Monty, reaching for his shoulder and said something. Alex averted his gaze away before the two caught him staring. Though, they should see how busy he was.

"Alex, do we have a problem?" Mr. Stevens crossed his arms, giving him a disapproving look.

"No, sir." Alex shook his head and shut his eyes momentarily then he looked down at his electric guitar. "I just . . . lacked sleep."

"'Lacked sleep,' ladies and gentlemen." Mr. Stevens looked at each of his students. "I think this school should start requiring each student to have eight hours of sleep as homework. Maybe that's the reason why some of you fail."

Great! Sarcasm.

* * *

"Where's Hannah?" Alex asked Jessica. He invited them to hang out at Monet's—the place they frequently hang out before and after class—since Mr Stevens dismissed them early.

"Ryan," Jessica said with a roll of her eyes and beautiful smile. But mentioning that name was enough for both of them to understand what it meant. Since Hannah joined the poetry club she and Ryan began hanging out more often. "I think those two are becoming closer every minute," Jessica continued. "But anyway, I really need to talk to you." She leaned forward excitedly and glanced sideways as if someone might hear them.

"Why don't we order some coffee first?" Alex suggested. He usually liked trying the new drinks, but he already tasted every drink available at Monet's. Sometimes, he's thinking of checking other coffee shops if given the chance to also try their drinks too.  Maybe it's an addiction, like he could feel his tongue craving for some caffeinated drinks if he didn't have one for a day. 

"Okay," Jessica said but she obviously had no intention of standing up so Alex took the turn to stand and order for them. He asked Jessica what she'd like.

"Affogato!" she smiled sweetly. "Craving for some ice-cream right now."

Alex then went to the queue and since there's no new drinks, he decided to order his favourite beverage, a chocolate flavoured frappé. It's the whipped cream for him.

He waited five minutes in line and had to wait for another few minutes again for his name to be called to get their order. He thought of what Jessica wanted, rather, needed to say to him as he fell in line so he wasted no time to ask as he got back to their table, carrying their orders. Jessica thanked him as he handed her her drink.

"So, what's it you need to tell me?"

"Oh, right." She began fidgeting, licking her lips, as she set her gaze on her drink, holding her cup a little tight. "Justin and I . . . did it." She, reluctantly, lifted her gaze back to him.

"Did what?"

Jessica did an eyeroll, but her face grew darker. Was she blushing?  

"Three letter word that start with the letter S."

As soon as Alex realized what it was, heat rushed to his face. He blinked. "What?"

"I know. And . . . I . . . I think it's great but . . . I didn't know if he . . . liked it . . . or if it's just me. I thought sex—it would be great like, you know in the movies. But . . . I can't help thinking if something's wrong with me. He never mentioned anything."

Alex shifted uncomfortably. "Frankly speaking, I wish I knew what to tell you. Why don't you ask him?"

"Seriously? Imagine me asking you, 'Alex, did you enjoy fucking me?'"

Alex tried to hide his fluster.

Jessica went on. "I'm just scared and I couldn't concentrate in class and Justin never opened up about it to me. So, I just . . . "

"Jessica, I think you're freaking out. Relax. I'm sure he had . . . " Alex trailed off, his tongue quivered as he realized how he lacked knowledge in this department. "enjoyed it? As much as you did?"

"Have you had, y'know, it?"

Alex frowned at the question, confused. But he thought he knew what she meant. So Jessica repeated herself.

"Are you still a virgin?" 

Alex was thankful he hadn't taken a sip of his frappé or he surely had spit it out. But he absently pulled his cup closer to him as if for comfort. "Yeah."

A teasing smile grazed on Jessica's lips. How could she—

He felt the need to defend himself. "I have kissed someone already back in middle school. So, I'm experienced somehow." 

It was all out of curiosity with this girl he thought he found cute but not really liked. Just cute. But the girl was open about her huge crush on him. Nothing happened after. He realized after that kiss, he's not really into her. And she felt the same. Maybe they're still too young to know . . . or perhaps they just don't like each other enough. And then there's this other night . . .  what Bryce's friends started calling as Kiss of Life. To the first boy he kissed. But no, it's not a kiss. Their lips barely touched. Well, it did touch but not the kind where . . . Whatever. Alex was never really bothered about it in one bit because, again, it's NOT a kiss. Definitely not one.

"But still . . . you're a virgin!" Jessica continued teasing.

Does that matter?

"Jessica, sex is the last thing on my mind when I stepped into Liberty. And we still have three more years to go . . . Anything could happen."

And . . . indeed . . . anything could happen . . .

He had lost track of time and it's almost 5pm when they left the coffee shop.  His conversation with Jessica finally changed to other topics, particularly, about him. She began asking some personal questions. And it's the first time Alex was oversharing, like how he got into playing guitar and joining the Jazz band. He admitted how he preferred playing in a band, like a rock band, than a boring Jazz band but it's not like there's something like it in Liberty. 

Jessica and him parted ways as soon as they got out; she said she's meeting with Justin.

It's still reasonably bright outside. Taking a little stroll to the nearby park seemed like a good idea. It's only a few kilometres from here. He shifted his guitar on his shoulder.

"Looks like someone needs a hand!" 

Alex stopped, knowing that voice so well—Bryce—yet he turned in reflex, regretting it sooner. Bryce and his gang walking towards his direction.

He changed his mind. He's going home.

"No. I'm fine."

Bryce and his friends slowed down as they reached him and they continued walking leisurely.

"No, give me that," Bryce insisted and took his amplifier carrying it for him. "Monty, help him carry his guitar," he ordered.

Alex gripped hard on the guitar strap. "No, I got this."

"He says he got it," Monty stated. But Bryce sent him an insistent glare.

"Go help him, Monty." The way Bryce says those words held an authority where one's not supposed to say no.

But Alex still said, "No. I said I'm fine."

They finally stopped demanding to help him carry his things, however before Alex knew it he found himself back at Bryce's place, by the pool house, hanging out with these idiots, getting squeezed between Monty and Charlie, who's in turn being sandwiched by him and Scott, drinking beers. Alex just awkwardly wrapped his hands around his bottle, beer barely drank.

This was awkward. He had nothing to do. Everyone was busy doing their own things. Monty, while drinking, had been tapping his fingers on the Nintendo Switch aggressively—he probably just borrowed from Bryce—and cussing. 

Then he felt Monty shifting behind him, sitting properly where their shoulders brushed and eventually glued together, since they had not enough space to move.

"Aren't you gonna drink that?" Monty cocked his head over his bottle.

Alex glanced at it, then brought the bottle to his lips. No way he's going to give it to Monty, he'd rather finish his drink. 

Monty smirked and drunkenly put his filthy arms around him. Alex stiffened. Monty reeked of alcohol.

"What about let's do a drinking game?"

"Not interested."

"The first one to pass out loses," Monty continued, ignoring him.

Alex turned and glared at him. "I'm done with your games, Monty. The last time, you told me you'd stop bothering me. What's this then?"

A threatening silence stretched between them meanwhile everything around them was complete chaos; Bryce, Zach, Diego and Luke were playing beer pong at the back. Charlie and Scott were busy getting too high, aside from getting drunk, and they're just eating cookies—Alex refused to take one when Charlie offered him—and now the two started speaking metaphors. 

Monty leveled his gaze at Alex, staring intensely. Their faces, quite dangerously close. "Nobody forced you to come here . . . You did."

Alex opened his mouth, wanting to protest: 'I didn't . . . ' yet he honestly didn't know anymore if he did come here willingly. 

He shut his mouth in a thin line and turned away and just drank. On the other hand, maybe this would make his dad happy. I'm a man now, dad! I hang out with jocks! I'm not this soft boy you think I am!

He stared back at Monty, almost daringly. "Sure, the bet's on."

"Loser owes the winner ten bucks," Monty says.

"Be realistic, Monty."

Monty started calculating. "Five, then."

Five bucks sounds fair. Alex nodded his head. "Sure."

And that's where it all started, Alex getting involved in Bryce's group. It was—even though he may not admit it—liberating.

iv. difficult and easy

MONTY.

Monty couldn't understand why Bryce was insistent on bringing Alex into their group. He's the only twink here! Unless Bryce liked Alex. Is he gay?

The question almost slipped from his tongue a couple of times, but Monty would catch himself before he could ask it.

He kept his eyes on Alex. It's Friday. Everyone's excited for the weekend. There's a party at Jessica tonight and she invited all the freshmen.

The sun decided to bless its UV rays for everyone —even though it's the middle of October—bringing warmth to the world. Students gathered around the lounges outside to bathe and get tanned. Monty was blessed with tanned skin, people loved his skin color or some of his friends told him once. 

Alex closed his eyes, lifted his chin as if breathing the sun's heat. His back resting on the wall. Bryce had his arms around his shoulder as he drank some beer disguised in a soda can, while chatting with Zach and Justin.

Monty just stared at Alex from where he sat, fiddling on some tiny stone he picked somewhere on the ground. Alex's sleeping face remained imprinted in his brain. It's what first greeted him the moment he opened his eyes the other morning after challenging Alex in a dare—a little drinking game, where the one who passed out first loses. Monty believed he won, certain that Alex had forgotten about it. So, the kid owed him five bucks. He needed money after all to pay Justin his fucking 10 dollars, who demanded him of it last night—some kind of friend Justin was—as they spent it again at Bryce's. Monty just had to find a way to get the other half. He was thinking of stealing from his dad, that old man owed him a lot too. However, he knew he was dead meat once he stepped home, after not coming home for a few days. But that's only if he got caught. He's not planning to come home and perhaps not for a while.

His eyes trailed on Alex's face, he could still remember each detail; how thick his brows were matching his delicate nose and his slightly parted lips just as good, before Alex fluttered his eyes open, revealing his eyes so blue as the ocean, expressing shock soon after. And the next thing Alex did was to spat a curse under his  breath before he shoved him to get away, only to end up falling from the couch. Monty hid a smile from the funny memory, Alex rubbing his sides in pain, but unfailingly sent him a glare when he caught him laughing. Well, he looked funny.

Monty frowned, completely flustered catching himself daydreaming. It's not funny nor cute!

"You guys coming to Jessica's party later?!" Justin asked aloud.

The boys glanced at each other and everyone shared approving looks.

"Should we go together or just meet there?" Luke asked.

"Let's just meet there," Zach answered.

Monty pulled his body up and walked over to Alex. Bryce turned to him.

"Hey, what's up?"

Monty just gave a slight nod and continued to Alex, who finally opened his eyes, sensing his presence, and there's that feeling again, tugging inside Monty's chest, a leap, like his heart stopped beating for a second. He tried to brush the feeling off. And stood in front of Alex, raising an arm and resting it on the wall, pinning the boy a little bit. A smirk played on his lips.

"I think you're forgetting something." Monty would never admit it but he kinda liked their proximity.

And there's that frown again. 

If there's something Monty had observed as he got alone with Alex—after his friends ganged up on them and decided to leave just the two of them with all the chaotic mess that was Bryce's pool house, as if a storm came by to crash two nights ago—it was it's difficult to be with him.

Difficult and easy. 

Easy, like, Alex had this vibe where he could make anyone feel at ease with his presence, and not demanding to engage in a conversation, or the silence would be unbearable. No. Monty appreciated the quietness for the first time. Difficult, because Alex seemed like a walking volcano, erupting anytime. And Monty never wished to clash with him during that time, as he's having a strangely good day. However, the tension hanging between them every time their eyes made contact wasn't something that could easily be ignored. Or perhaps, leaving them alone in a room together wasn't ideal. It's a miracle that they finished cleaning the room in peace.

On the other hand, Monty thought Alex started it—whatever antagonism encircled them—after the latter yelled at him and called him off just because he was teasing his boyfriend, Tyler. Yet now, he's here with them, hanging in their clique.

"Forgetting something?" Alex repeated, his frown growing intense with each word.

Monty didn't mean to, but his eyes, regrettably, travelled down Alex's lips as he stated, "The five bucks." His voice, gruff.

"Hey, are you two kissing or what?" Bryce interrupted, causing Monty to back away a little; leaning off the wall and taking a step back.

"Yeah, we are. Mind your business."

It was too late before Monty realized what he just said and it sounded like he just snapped. He didn't know but Bryce pissed him off. Oh yeah, it's for bringing this twink with them.

"Five bucks?!" Alex exclaimed which stole some attention.

Panic rose inside Monty. Justin nor anyone wasn't supposed to know about it. 

He set a threatening foot forward, and said in gritted teeth, "Lower your voice . . . you lost the bet. You owe me five bucks, remember? Be thankful, it should be ten."

And of course, as always, Bryce would pry, getting in between them. "What's going on?"

"I said, none of your business."

"Watch your mouth, Monty," Bryce said in a dangerously low voice.

"Why is this twink even here?" Monty waved a hand off at Alex.

"Because he belonged in our group now."

It seemed to vexed Alex that he peeled his body off the wall and turned to Bryce; the glare remained fixed on his face. "No. I don't. I never liked hanging out with you! I only did because I'm afraid you guys would do something against me for turning your oh so important group down."

Uneasy silence filled the group as they both watched Alex and Bryce. More wary of Bryce's next actions, who they treated as some kind of a leader, to throw back some words or worse, a fit. Monty held his breath. 

But none of them expected what Bryce did next.

"Calm down. Nobody's gonna hurt no one. You're free to leave if you want to." 

And there's that look again, nor threatening and not friendly either, but there's an edge to it. It's a look that only Bryce could pull, which meant choose wisely if you didn't want to get in bigger trouble. Alex noticed it too.

The group waited for the latter to march off and leave. But then Alex just rested his back on the wall.

Monty thought, 'You should've left while you got the chance.'

Smile spread through Bryce's lips and he wrapped his arms back to Alex's shoulder. "I knew you'd like it here."

* * *

"You could've left." 

Monty muttered under his breath as he joined Alex who's sitting alone by the backyard, at a bench under a tree inside the Davis' household.

The party was pretty cool—no, it was boring. Or maybe Monty just found it a little too girly despite having some of his jock friends here. Somehow, Justin also ruined it for him by mentioning the ten bucks. Monty wished his friend could just cut it out and let it slide and forgive him for that one stick he had—Justin worded as—stolen.

"Who told you I wanted to leave?" Alex asked in a quite sharp tone. He always spoke like everyone's out to get him.

"You. Your monologue earlier says so."

Alex scoffed. "Maybe it's all just a bull! I know you hate me, Monty. And the feeling's mutual. But if you think asking that question could make me go and leave, then you're clearly mistaken."

"No, it's a favour actually. Since you still owe me five bucks."

"Well, what if I don't have five bucks?"

"I doubt it." 

"It's just a stupid drinking game!"

"Yet you went on with it."

"Why are you even here? You hate the party?"

"I only came here to ask you for my money," Monty lied. Not willing to admit that he indeed hated the party and even more so that he preferred spending, rather, wasting his time with this idiot. Yeah, Alex was an idiot. 

Alex scoffed and drank the soda can in his hand. Monty almost snorted a laugh, thinking the boy developed a trauma from drinking any alcoholic beverages after their 'stupid drinking game.'

"How about you? Why are you here? Hate the party?" Monty threw the question back and also his way to change the subject; stalling more time so Alex wouldn't kick him out just yet.

"No, Jessica's with Justin, Hannah's with Clay, and I wanted to be alone."

Okay, Alex was clearly kicking him out. 

"I thought you like hanging out with us, or should I say, Brycey."

"Like I said," Alex threw him a pointed look, but Monty was staring into his eyes, "I wanted to be alone. I don't even know how you found me."

"It's not hard with that hair of yours." Monty cocked his head over to his bleached hair that shone under the blackness of the night sky.

Alex didn't respond.

Monty looked over at the wasted kids from afar fooling around with the water hose and getting themselves wet. Then he spotted Zach, Charlie, and Luke tackling each other on the other side.

"Why don't you join them?" He heard Alex ask and saw him looking in the same direction as his.

"Yeah. Sounds like a good idea." A crazy idea came into Monty's head. 

He stood up and strode towards the kids who, just in time, dropped the water hose, and ran away laughing boisterously. Monty grabbed the hose and fired water at his friends, earning a number of vigorous curses back.

"You're out of your fucking mind!" Zach shouted but he seemed to love it nonetheless as he's grinning from ear to ear after getting thrown back with Luke and Charlie on the now muddy ground.

"You're welcome!" Monty shouted back with a smile, when his eyes stopped at Alex. His heart drummed quick rhythms. Hand gripping on the hose tighter. He licked his lips and called, "Standall!"

v. get rid off

ALEX.

Alex was wet!

Head to toe soaking wet.

He glowered at Monty, hoping it would kill the moron who raised his hands in surrender or as a form of apology. But either way it's too late for that now. He chased after Monty, sprinting after him inside the house. Not caring if they made a scene, as long as he could catch the fucker; from the living room to the dining hall, upstairs, to the corridor, but of course Monty was swift, being an athlete. Nonetheless, it didn't stop Alex from running after him, following him inside a room—a bedroom—blocking his body to the door before Monty could shut it. 

"Shit!" Monty cursed in between breaths and ran further inside only to get trapped by the corner.

Alex chuckled as he closed and locked the door, and stared at Monty. You got nowhere to go. 

He took a step, not really knowing what he's gonna do next, though tempted to give Monty a taste of his fist. What Monty did was unforgivable! It's fucking cold and now he's wet! Aside from that, he couldn't go home looking like this!

"You think you can fight me?" Monty warned, standing in a  defensive stance.

"Fuck you, Montgomery."

A smirk soon played on the moron's lips. "Sure. S'that why you locked us here? Chased me down?"

Stopping altogether, Alex looked at him in disbelief. Was he hearing this fucker correctly? He laughed bitterly, and scowled.

"Look what you've done!" He exclaimed, gesturing his hands over his drenched clothes.

"Well, you belong in our group now, so . . . "

"So?"

"I fired water at the other guys too, Alex."

"That's not enough as an excuse!"

"You're literally whining over wet clothes!"

"Don't you turn this against me! This is your fucking fault!"

"What do you want me to do? Strip you naked? Dry your clothes?"

Closing his eyes, Alex huffed. And then without saying another word he began taking his cardigan off and unbuttoning his patterned buttoned-down shirt, mindless of the fact that Monty was there and watching. He then walked over to the desk, sprawled his shirt on top of it, and hung his cardigan by the chair. It's the only way he knew to go home dry.

"I don't know but I feel like I annoy you," Monty commented after a while.

Alex lifted his gaze at him and scoffed. "How could you not?"

Smirking, Monty crossed his arms, and moved his gaze in a certain direction. "Sometimes we ought to use our brain, Alex. Why don't you look for some clothes in the closet?" He cocked his head over the said closet. 

Alex didn't know whose room they were. They could be in Jessica's parents' room. Great! Now they're going to steal from her folks.

"We're not going to steal, Monty."

Monty laughed. He shook his head and stared at him. "We're borrowing, Alex—Unless you have no plans to give it back."

Alex rolled his eyes, unimpressed with his stupid suggestion, yet Monty continued suggesting stupid suggestions.

"If you want I can lend you my clothes."

"What? You're going out there naked?"

"Just my shirt, Alex. So you can go home."

"Now, you're sending me off."

"No," Monty scoffed. "I'm just trying to help."

Help? 

Alex squinted his eyes, set his jaw, strode over to him and said under his breath, "Want to make it up to me? Drop the five bucks. I don't owe you anything." 

He was about to turn away when a hand grabbed his wrist hard, pulling him back, catching him off guard.

"Not happening."

But Alex wasn't paying attention to what Monty was saying, instead to how close their body was; their arms literally touching. Not to mention Monty's mouth just inches from his face. And on top of it all . . . Time seemed to stop.

None of them moved, as if weighing the tension arising between. The air, growing warm and heavy. 

And Alex couldn't ignore this indescribable force, drawing him closer to the guy, but he remained in his position.

Monty whispered after a moment, "Sure. I'm willing to drop the five bucks . . . but . . . " he inched closer. Alex held his breath. "Forget this ever happened . . . "

* * *

It was unthinkable, in a complete sense of the word. UNTHINKABLE.

Alex laid on his bed, thinking about what happened earlier. It was confusing, surprising, something very unexpected, and unimaginable.

Monty kissed him.

That moron fucking kissed him. 

On the lips.

And left him right after.

However, Monty's cheap cologne mixed with alcohol and his musky scent still lingered through his nose, not at all a pleasant smell yet it caused his stomach to churn in a strange, sick yet pleasant manner he knew he shouldn't address.

MONTY.

His legs were starting to sore, but his mind was still restless, pacing back and forth for almost an hour in an abandoned building he called home. 

Heart drumming wildly and it wouldn't calm down!

What the hell were you thinking?! He cursed at himself, pulling his hair in frustration and embarrassment.

He wanted to beat himself up.

He paced again.

Maybe, he could—would—forgive himself if he was drunk. No, he was completely sober when he did that. He fucking kissed . . .

Get ready for your death wish, Monty! Alex would certainly rat him out one day. News would break out and spread around Liberty, and it would reach his dad in no time . . .

You truly are dead, Monty.

His feet came to a stop. The thought of his angered father brought chills down his spine. 

Lifting his head above the sky, he took a deep breath. Calm down. Stars spread like a million fireflies, twinkling above, but none of it eased down the turbulence inside him. Until . . . 

Alex . . . His face flashed through his head; his sleeping face. His face when he frowned, his face when he smiled. The fury in his blue eyes earlier.  His soaked body. His body. Then the warmth of his lips trembling against his mouth. His unique taste.

Monty absently licked his lips and thought of the boy once more. He must be angry yet the thought of him brought tranquil within. How could he—a boy—be beautiful? He had no right to be! Letting out a huff, Monty tugged at the collar of his shirt, wanting to get rid of these senseless feelings! Wanting to get rid of that face!

He shouldn't be liking him.

He didn't want to like Alex.

— end of PART I —

Chapter Text

PART II.

vi. put to test

ALEX.

"So you hang with the 'cool kids' now, huh." There's stress when Tyler spat the words.

Alex came to say hi to him by the lockers and this was the greeting he got. 

"And the next thing, you're making fun of me too," added Tyler, shutting his locker door with a bang, and walked away. Alex hurried after him.

"N-No. That wouldn't happen. I would never."

After that incident with Monty last Friday at Jessica's party, he didn't dare leave the house to hang out with those jocks over the weekend. He's still shocked and still shakened just thinking about it.

Yet the question lingered, why did Monty do that? 

Was he into boys? Or was he too drunk? But he looked a little sober to even do such crazy things. Was it a 'jock' thing to kiss boys? 

And was he serious about dropping the five bucks if he forget—

Forget. Did Monty really expect him to forget it, especially no boy ever tried to kiss—Alex shut his eyes, hoping to brush away the memory. Yeah, better forget it ever happened, Alex.

However, he didn't know whether to feel disgusted—he wished he was—but he's far from feeling that way, and he's never going to admit it. Worst, he couldn't stop thinking about the fucker since . . .  

Alex slowed down, spotting the guy that's been messing in his head walking down the hallways. And Tyler even had to turn over to him as if saying, there's your jock friends!

Alex wanted to say, No they're not! Don't look at me like that!

"Hey, Ty-Ty!" greeted Monty as he got closer, sending Tyler one of his signature condescending stares, until his eyes touched Alex's, whose heart leaped. 

As if electrified, Monty abruptly looked away. Though it's the first time Alex saw his face always full of confidence and arrogance, wavered even in just a second. Then he simply walked past him like nothing, just like that, never seeing him at all. Like he wasn't there. 

Something sank within Alex. He tried to brush it off. Perhaps it's better that Monty's ignoring him now,  finally leaving him in peace.

And it was peaceful for Alex in the next two days. He realized the problem wasn't Bryce or any of his friends. It was Monty. Alex had never appreciated hanging out with these boys since. No one's bothering him, making him do stupid things and bets, and asking him for some money he owed. Or so he convinced himself.

Speaking of the money, he'd been contemplating whether to still pay him. Also, why the hell couldn't he just leave it! The moron stopped asking him about it anyway. But it's because of that kiss. He couldn't help considering that if he didn't pay Monty, it looked like he accepted the kiss, even though he didn't know what that was for, or maybe—how ridiculous it may sound—Monty liked him hence, he kissed him. Nobody would kiss someone just because . . .

No. That's impossible! No way Monty liked him. Maybe the kiss was another trap, or another blackmail the moron could use against him in the future. Okay, it could be possible or only his overthinking. But he better be careful in the likes of Monty. He could be cunning.

Pulling out his wallet, Alex took the remaining money, exactly five bucks, the one he's saving for his coffee hobby. His hand curled around the bills.

Maybe he really didn't need to pay anything. 

However . . .

Some sacrifices should perhaps be made.

MONTY.

"You're ripping, man!" 

Monty turned to Luke tossing the shirt he took off to the side, getting ready for their gym class. 

"Oh yeah?" He glanced at his arms and shrugged. "Well, been working out the past days." 

Working out had been his distraction. To keep his mind off, to forget about the dumb thing he did last party. To keep that certain boy out of his head (off his heart). And also his escape from his monstrous dad. He may have received another hit from his old man after he mistakenly went home Saturday night. Another bruise to his sides, an addition to his collection. But it didn't hurt like the first time. No, they didn't hurt anymore. It's normal. His friends took it like nothing too. They're used to seeing him getting new bruises. They never bothered to ask. They already know. What's new about it anyway?

He slid off his bottoms next, opened his locker to get his gym clothes.

"Monty."

Absently, Monty turned, late to realize whom the voice was from. He immediately, absently, grabbed a random shirt, or pants, or maybe a towel, whatever, to cover the thing between his legs. His heart raced like mad.

"A-Alex."

The color of his face darkened, hand slightly pressing tighter against his groin, when he caught Alex glancing down at his body.

"Hey, Alex!" greeted Luke with his always beaming face, which was only answered with a short nod.

Alex turned back to Monty, stern look on his face, only for it to break soon. "Are those bruises?"

Monty stiffened and shifted from one foot to another, wishing to turn around to obstruct the view of his swollen side from Alex, which was impossible at the moment, as he's naked, while Alex was already in his gym clothes.

"None of your damn business."

"Then put some fucking clothes on!" 

"Well, I was just about to when you suddenly barged in!" 

Giving a quick glance at Luke, Alex muttered under his breath. "Let's talk outside." Then he left.

Monty could only wonder what it's about. However, the way his insides fluttered knowing he would have a moment with Alex soon was undeniable.

He stopped momentarily, wishing to bang his head against the metal locker. He's acting so weird. Stop it! Stop feeling things for that boy! You're not . . . like that. You don't like boys . . . It's girls.

He recalled attempting to check out girls before, and even lied to liking one of them, only to forget about it soon, forgetting who the girl was.

Okay! You liked no one, Monty! 

Besides, who did Alex think he was bossing him around! 

It's late for him to realize him covering his . . . as if Alex was a girl. Dammit! Monty just made himself look like a pussy in front of that twink.

Blowing a huff, Monty wore his gym clothes, but didn't go to meet Alex outside. Nor did he approach him as they got to the gym with Coach Kerba reminding them of their practical quiz today. Something to do with indoor sports. He began assigning each student of the sports they'd play.

Shit! How could Monty forget about this quiz? With the Homecoming getting closer, his schedule was just tight—he barely finished some of his homeworks. Though, he was nervous yet thrilled for the upcoming Homecoming, already giving his best shot in their afternoon drills.  He had to give his best, got to do his best. Dreaming to get drafted someday, leave his home and be a popular football player! Prove his dad wrong about him. It's not impossible right? A man could dream.

"Monty and Alex," Coach Kerba's voice interrupted his thoughts. 

Monty automatically turned to Alex who's standing a few distances across from him, and his heart skipped again. He moved his eyes down. 

"You two play ping pong."

"Wha—But—"

"But what? Monty?" Kerba had this stare.

"Just . . . look at us!" He waved his hand back and forth to him and Alex to emphasize what he's trying to say. "We're physically uneven. I'm buff and he's . . . " 

Why wasn't he assigned to play volleyball?

He caught Alex scoffing and crossed his arms, shaking his head a bit.

"Monty, ping pong isn't like wrestling where you're required to be physically fit, or to pin your opponent down. You just gotta swing that racket, hit the ball and score," Coach Kerba explained. Then he ushered them to where the table tennis was placed, and looked at each of them pointedly. "Remember the rules I taught you. Your score would be determined by how well you followed the rules and played the game, how many violations you did and whatnot. Understood?"

Both Monty and Alex nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Most importantly, just enjoy the game. Pretend I'm not here."

Well, Coach Kerba's presence didn't bother Monty at all. It was Alex, standing determined at the opposite end of this table.

How about he tried smashing that beautiful face of his with the ping pong ball? 

"Alex, you serve first," Coach instructed, giving him the ball.  

Upon taking it, Alex tossed the ball up and down his palm, then flicked his gaze at Monty who always found his blue eyes striking. Soon, the ball was already hurling towards him—Alex already made his first serve—catching Monty off guard. 

"Points to Alex!" Coach stated. "You focus on the ball, Monty. Not your opponent."

The way the corners of Alex's lips curve up in a smirk caused his knees to turn weak, Monty had to hold himself together.

"Cocky, are we?" He managed to retort.

Alex just shrugged. Then he made his second serve.

The game went on! Monty struggled to score. He tried to focus. Tried and failed. Alex, before Monty knew it, was already nine points. And he's only five. Two points left, and Alex would win.

Most of Monty's hits were out of bounds, as he smashed the ball aggressively hoping to get rid of these jitters, stubborn to leave him alone. And his hands were literally shaking.

It's just Alex . . . with his lips so fine, and looking so cool . . .

Fuck it!

"Out of bounds, Monty!" Coach Kerba called for the nth time. "This is ping pong, Monty, not Football, easy with the hitting . . . Another point to Alex."

And the fuck Alex had to lick those lips.

"I hate this game! This isn't for me!" Monty finally whined, tempted to throw the racket off. These are for faggots, he wanted to say. Faggots like Alex!

"Chill, de la Cruz. You can't just quit and think this game isn't for you. You're just too passionate, and while that's good, just don't do it too much. Keep it fun!"

Fun? Maybe if he's playing against Charlie. 

"You can do this, Monty."

"Yes, coach," he lied.

He's losing to Alex again. God, how many times had he let Alex win against him and the boy's winning again.

vii. not into boys

ALEX.

Alex continued reaching out to Tyler, who's been ignoring him for days, convincing him he's still the same Alex he knew and that nothing had changed. It's starting to make him look stupid. Tyler kept on turning a deaf ear to him,  willing to throw away their friendship. But not Alex. Their friendship meant so much to him. He's the first friend he got when he had no one; made his first days in high school, bearable.  

"What do you want me to do?" Desperation evident in Alex's voice. Another day of sitting next to Tyler in one of their shared classes, hoping this time his friend would finally take him back.

Tyler turned to him, causing his breath to hitch.

"If you really want our friendship back," Tyler said indignantly, "then why do you keep hanging out with those . . ." he glanced in the direction where Monty, Zach and Justin were seated, and disgustedly muttered under his breath, "jerks?"

No answer formed in Alex's lips.

"I knew it." Tyler looked away. 

It felt bitter. Ugly. Sickeningly twisting in Alex's gut. It hurt that they turned out this way but he understood where his friend's coming from. He continued hanging out with the same guys that had bullied him, yet Alex couldn't just leave; couldn't find it in himself to do so.

Maybe a part of him—something he would never dare to confess even to himself—grew to like the company of those jerks, to be with them, as he felt seen, he felt somebody for the first time, like he mattered. He could finally prove that he could be one of those cool kids too, like Peter, his brother. 

He's not pathetic, he's not a loser. 

A loud cackle echoed across the room, stealing everyone's attention. It was Monty.

Monty. Another guy Alex had been reaching out too, who gave Justin a shove.

"This is fucking sick, man!"

"I know right!" 

"Wait! How about this?"

They went on with whatever nonsense they were doing, listing something on a sheet of paper, sniggering like two idiots as they were. Alex continued staring, rather watching in observation, looking for signs Monty could possibly be attracted to guys. 

Though, he seemed normal, showing no signs. 

What did Alex know about the signs anyway? Holding Justin's hand? Whispering to his ear? Kissing him? . . . Monty did none of those aside from their bumping knees by sitting too close.

A pen dropped to the floor, slipping from Monty's hand. Alex remained staring, not peeling his eyes away from him. Monty waited a few seconds before he bent down and reluctantly picked his pen, then lifted his head and . . . caught him staring.

At once, in that millisecond their eyes made contact, Alex turned away, back to the board in front. Heart thumping wildly in his chest. 

What the fuck was this? Why was he reacting like this? He certainly didn't feel something for that dick. First, Monty's a guy, and even if Alex happened to be into boys—which he's not—he would never like Monty nor would find him interesting . . . He's  a dick.

viii. the unforgettable incident

MONTY.

'Twas the night before the long-awaited Homecoming—the day Monty had been looking forward to, as it would be his first ever big game  to participate in, carrying the name of Liberty Tigers. The thought brought pride within him. They must win. Liberty, despite its notorious reputation, always won. And Monty didn't wish to break that record.  Partaking in this event would also be one of his stepping stones to reach his dream to become an athlete, specifically in any sports team. 

Their practice ended around 8pm. Coach Kerba said final words of encouragement and reminded them to take a rest and save all their remaining energy for the big game tomorrow.  

"But no matter what, may we get the gold or lose this game, don't ever give up. I've read this quote somewhere, 'You are not defeated when you lose. You are defeated when you quit.' Like I always tell you guys, always give your best shot!"

After that final statement, Coach Kerba dismissed them. 

"I'm nervous tomorrow, man!" Justin came jogging to Monty's side, hooking his bag on his shoulder.

"I know! But I think I'm ready," Monty responded, walking deliberately as they made their way out. "By the way, where you gonna stay tonight?"

"Aren't you going to, at Bryce's? I'm planning to sleep there. I doubt I'll get enough at home."

Monty had been thinking if he should stay at Bryce's or the Hobo-hotel. Not his home. He might earn a new set of broken bones and bruises, and that would mean disability to play tomorrow. 

His feet slowed down. Seeing a familiar figure from afar. He could never mistook that hair. His heart went from beating steady to fast. 

The fuck Alex doing here at school in this hour?

"Hey, Alex!" Justin greeted, with a small wave as they neared him. 

Alex simply gave a nod, barely acknowledging him, staring intently at Monty.

"Okay, bro," Justin decided to turn back to Monty after he got ignored, "see you at Bryce's."

They both exchanged high fives.

"Yeah, see ya there!" Monty waited for Justin to leave before finally facing Alex. It suddenly felt like meeting with a significant other. He shifted from foot to foot, gripping on his bag strap a little tight, making sure his face wouldn't give away how he's feeling at the moment—how this guy could make him nervous by simply standing there. Cause why the fuck was Alex staring? Well, he'd been catching him looking at his way, which always sent these fluttering in his stomach. Fuck those!

"What?" Monty cocked his chin a bit to intimidate, but Alex wasn't a bit fazed.

Alex took something from his pocket and held it out in front of him. "Here's the money I owe from losing the bet."

"Bet?"

"The five bucks."

They had agreed to drop the money . . . if Alex would forget that thing he did. Monty regretted kissing Alex that night. He didn't know what's gotten to him, or rather, he'd been denying the reason why he did that crazy thing. So, the fact that Alex was now giving him the money, only meant one thing . . .

they both couldn't forget it . . . to brush it off.

Monty didn't know what to do with that theory. He found it difficult to speak. He looked at Alex, heart thumping faster if it were even possible. 

He opened his mouth and forced the words out, praying he wouldn't stutter, only to fail. "I-I told you to forget it!" 

At once, Monty turned around, walking away, surprising himself where he got the strength to do so when his legs were shaking like a jelly.

"How could I?!" Alex shouted behind him.

Shit! Could he just shut up? And pretend it never happened?

Monty continued walking, taking huge hurried steps to the parking lot where his Jeep was.

"Monty!"

"Save it, Alex!"

"I want to fucking forget it!"

Monty shut his eyes, balling his hands into fists, tempted to smack himself, or better yet, Alex; to stop these feelings. He drew in a deep breath, taking two unsure steps before stopping.

"Just take this money," Alex said, and his voice was so close. Monty wanted to silence it. What are you doing to me?

He turned around and shouted, "Why wouldn't you just drop it?! I thought we'd come to an agreement!" 

"Agreement? You call that . . . I just don't want to have anything to do with you . . . But this," Alex waved the bills, ". . . seems to bind us together."

Scoff escaped from Monty's lips. How could money 'bind them together',  yet hearing those words coming out of Alex's mouth . . . tied his heart into fucking knots! 

"The fuck you talking about?"

"It's about the kiss, Monty. I don't know why you fuck—did that. I don't know what you're on. But I do know you could be cunning. So," without warning Alex grabbed his hand and shoved the bills into his palm, "here's the money. Just leave me the fuck alone!"

Then he marched off.

"Alex!" Monty called after a moment through the stillness around them before Alex could disappear from his sight.

Alex turned.

"So, you failed to forget it, huh?" 

They both know what the 'it' meant.

"You paid me." Monty raised the dollar bills.

Alex just answered him with silence and left him completely.

Monty stared at the money in his hand, curling his fingers around it. 

Alex must've hated him so much.

* * *

"Here's your money." Monty tossed the bills on Justin's lap who's having another cannabis session.  He almost hesitated to pay him, thinking to just keep the money cause it looked like he's even helping his friend with his illegal business.

Sitting properly, Justin took the bills and counted, blowing smokes out of his mouth. He looked up at Monty. "You still owe me five." 

"I know!" Monty slid on a new shirt. "Why are you smoking pot? It's our fucking game tomorrow."

Justin reclined back to the couch, head above the ceiling. "I told you, I'm nervous as shit."

"Okay. Don't bother joining the game then."

Justin scoffed, smokes continued coming out of him. "We're already drug tested. Nobody would suspect. And it's just one stick."

"Could you just listen for once?" Striding toward, Monty grabbed the stick from his lips, dropped it to the floor and stepped on it like killing an insect.

"DUDE!" 

Monty ignored the death glares his friend sent him. He simply plopped himself on the mattress they set on the tiled floor, turning his back on Justin.

"That's another five bucks, Monty!"

"Whatever you say . . . Get me a job then! I can't lose the game just because Justin Foley sucks at following rules."

"Fuck you, Monty!"

A pillow was thrown at his back, but at that moment, Monty was thinking about Alex.

ix. jersey no. 32

ALEX.

It should give Alex a peace of mind. He already paid his debt after losing from a bet. He's free. Yet . . . Monty wouldn't leave his mind. He caught himself turning and tossing in his bed, thinking about the moron that night, which caused bags under his eyes the next day. The day where his band was going to practically begin the event by playing in the opening, before the emcees could present their greetings. Great! Hopefully his flaws and missed notes, should his nervousness get the best of him, would fade through the cheers of crowds!

"Standall!" Bryce, Zach and Charlie approached and circled around him. They're already in their jerseys. Alex absently wondered where Monty was.

"You're going to play in the opening, right?" Bryce asked, pointing at the guitar on his back.

"Yeah."

"Cool!" Charlie exclaimed.

"No, I'm actually nervous. Like, just kill me now."

"Nah!" Zach waved a hand off, then began playing air guitar, impersonating a rockstar by scrunching his nose a little and biting the bottom of his lip. "I think you're going to kill it!"

Alex thought he looked funny.

"Good luck out there!" Bryce reached for his shoulder.

"Yeah?" Alex smiled crookedly. "I guess that should be my line. Good luck on your game later."

Charlie thanked Alex, beaming, while Bryce quipped, "That's the reason why we wished you luck, so you could give us one back."

"Alex!!!" A chorus of women's voices.

Turning around, Jessica and Hannah were pushing their way towards him, bright smiles on their faces. Jessica was already donned in her cheering uniform, waving pom poms and Hannah waving two hotdogs in her hands. Warmth swelled within Alex. It's been a while since he last saw them due to their Jazz Band practice—Mr. Stevens became stricter and unforgiving of any mistakes. Well, good luck with that.  

"Hey, you ready for later?" Jessica said as soon as they neared him.

"It isn't like I have any choice left, aside from being ready . . . I had to. Even though I vote against it."

"Come on! You're Alex Standall!" Hannah exclaimed, offering one of her hotdogs to him. "Here! You just need to be fed." 

Alex raised a hand as a declination. "Thanks, but . . . " he thoughtlessly rubbed his tummy, "I can't eat when I'm having all these jitters!"

Jessica gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "You got this."

"Yeah. I'm sure you'll do great!" Hannah seconded, taking a bite of her hotdog.

He appreciated their support but he still didn't believe in himself. He thanked them anyway. Although, looking at these girls, he'd never been so grateful to have them as friends, they never doubted him nor changed towards him despite hanging out with the jocks, which most people considered a bad influence—well, it's somewhat true. But his perspective changed. He got to know them. They could be fun, until they'd make fun of the others, leer at girls and boast about how they kissed or brought them out on a date and got some of them in their pants. The last one Alex doubted to be true. 

"Okay!" Hannah said enthusiastically, interrupting his thoughts. "You two ought to go." She began pushing them away. "Just catch me in the bleachers cheering you on!" She waved goodbye.

Alex met with his band mates and he had never been this nervous in his entire life. He practiced playing a few notes while chanting, 'I can do this! I can do this!'  in his head.

Five minutes later, they gathered at the center with floodlights flashing wildly at them, it was blinding. The night was chilly but Alex could feel sweat trickling down his skin. 

Roaring cheers fired at them. It seemed like these people would shout for the rest of the night until the game ended. And it wasn't helping Alex any good. With the gesture of Mr. Stevens' hand holding the stick up, the band began to play . . .

To simply put, it was a success! Relief slowly washed over Alex.

Few hours later, he caught himself cheering for Liberty Tigers, screaming the name of his friends who got possession of the ball, sacrificing the condition of his throat for them. However, every minute, he would catch himself following Monty who's in Jersey no. 32. And it's not like he could help it. It's like a reflex. Every time he'd peel his eyes away from him, it kept stopping right back to him.

And even though Alex wasn't really familiar with football—clearly Monty played well. Wait, Bryce, and the others were good too. Not only Monty. He tried convincing himself—he knew deep inside, he was impressed by Monty. 

The game ended . . . and Liberty Tigers still, and what everybody should have expected, got the gold! 

Euphoria filled the stadium.

Alex and Jessica ran down to congratulate the team with big and bright smiles on their faces. It was contagious. 

Bryce stood in the center, holding out the huge trophy.

Monty tackled Bryce from behind. "You're so getting your dick sucked tonight!" And thrusted against him. 

For some reason, Alex found it quite baffling. And weird. Though, it somewhat made him think if Monty and Bryce do things behind the closet. Closet. The irony!

Monty hopped down from Bryce and gave Scott a little shove after the latter said something which Alex failed to catch as he kept his gaze at Monty, who flicked his eyes over at him, and a wide grin plastered on his face—pulling strings inside Alex 

"STANDALL!" Monty, beaming, skipped his way towards him and locked an arm around his neck. "We did it!!!"

He was clearly happy.

Smile soon flashed through Alex. "Yeah! Congratulations!"

Then as soon as Monty came, he disappeared just as fast with the others still euphoric about their win, and it was a fleeting moment to Alex. Uncertain if it happened or not—Monty shared his happiness with him. Not expecting for Monty to do so, not right after he told him off last night.

Yet . . . 

As they all gathered and celebrated their victory at Charlie's house, Monty never faulted to look at his way. Not that it disturbed Alex . . . well, maybe it did. But it shouldn't. This was how they were supposed to be. Not minding each other's business.

He just lingered by the corner, sipping his own drink moderately, afraid to make the same mistake twice. Charlie and Bryce stood next to him still not over about the game, reliving how they tackled and defeated their opponent.  Alex listened quietly while his eyes traveled across the room searching for a certain moron. He spotted him eating some cookies with Justin by the couch. They seemed to have a lot to discuss. Then Zach jumped in with this lively face, holding his phone camera, recording them a video.

"Say hi to the camera, championsss!"

Justin and Monty waved and acted silly in front of the camera. It was a funny view. However, Alex was caged in his own emotions. In the deepest darkest pit of his stomach he knew he craved Monty's attention. Ugh! He felt disgusted for a second there to even think about it. So, he grabbed a handful of doritos, and shoved it in his mouth, letting its addicting saltiness distract him. Not enough. He snatched Bryce's Vodka and chugged it, drowning the feeling down  until the baleful taste burned his throat.

"Woah! Easy, Alex!" exclaimed Charlie while Bryce watched in amusement.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah!" Alex's answer came out breathless. He dropped the can to the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Choked," he lied. He told himself he's not going to get drunk tonight.

"And here's the moment we've all been waiting for! Let's meet the man who brought the gold home." It's now their turn to roll in Zach's video who stood in front of them. "Without him, we wouldn't be able to make it!" He then pointed the camera onto and shouted, "BRYCE WALKER! Gimme a round of applause everyone!"

Bryce flashed a flattered smile. "Please." But Charlie and the others cheered in the background. Alex just clapped nonchalantly and peeked to the video. 

"Is that live?"

But his question turned into deaf ears due to the chaos.

Now, Alex didn't know what he was doing here aside from celebrating the win. Right, they're celebrating the win. That's exactly what they're here for.

"Hey, Alex." It was Charlie, now carrying a container of cookies. "Want some?"

"Sure. Thanks." Alex took a cookie. Then Charlie left. Left him craving for more. He never tasted such a cookie. It was simply so good. No wonder the boys kept asking for more. There's something in it he couldn't put a finger on. Like there's this kick. 

His phone chimed just as he was about to look for Charlie to ask for more cookies. He stopped and opened the message, only for his heart to skip. Monty sent him a message. 

It says . . . I like you.

x. i like you

MONTY.

"You're quiet." Justin noticed.

It's either the liquor, the cookies . . . or Alex.

Shit!

His body may be sedated at the moment, thanks to the calming effect of Charlie's cookies—Yes, it's the cookies—yet it was a circus inside Monty and it's all because of Alex. It's scary how Alex could make and break his day like this. Yes, their team had won, but Alex became a huge part of why tonight felt perfect for Monty, despite his family's absence in the game—he's used to it, his family not watching his games. But knowing that Alex was there watching and cheering them on . . . meant a lot to him more than he thought.

Shit! No!

This feeling was sick! He desperately wanted to get rid of it! For his brain, for once, to stop thinking about that faggot! This feeling was alien . . . new . . . making him want to throw up.

Alex . . . Alex . . . Alex . . . was all his brain could think of! Monty knew that that guy was one of the reasons he did his best in the game tonight hoping it had impressed him. Did he see how he played? Scored for their team? How good he was?

"Alex." The name slipped off Monty's tongue before he knew it, opposed to the revulsion he's feeling . . . a smile crawling its way uncontrollably to his lips along the speeding of his heart. 

God, he didn't know what to feel anymore. And it's not like he had power over this.

"What about Alex?" Justin asked, the words droned off his lips.

"I think he looked good."

A lazy laugh escaped Justin. He turned to Monty. "So . . . you want to talk about him."

"I can't stop thinking about him, man."

"In a good way or in a bad way?"

"I dunno. I just . . . sometimes I want to punch him in the face but . . ." Monty couldn't keep himself from talking, to spill more of the things he sworn to never admit to himself nor anyone. 

". . . most of the time . . . I want to kiss him."

"Dude! You're fucking high!"

"Heh. Maybe." 

Maybe not.

He took his phone and typed something.

* * *

[I like you.]

Monty had to read the text over and over. Pulling his phone screen closer to his face checking if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

It's clear, the text: I like you.

He hastily brought his phone, faced down the desk and looked sideways with caution. Everyone—mostly his friends—in the detention room was busy scribbling on the paper, their pens scratching noisily against the wooden desk, writing down the phrases, copying it from the white board: 'I'm sorry. I promise not to do it again.' 

They were called in detention after they covered the trees around the campus with toilet paper. When asked why they did that, Monty said, shrugging, "We're just bored." Besides, Halloween's just around the corner.

On the other hand, he's wishing and praying, if God would listen, his parents to be called in the principal's office just to piss them off, especially his father. After all, his son's good for nothing, right? Might as well prove it to feed his father's rotting ego. 

The truth was, Monty was hurt, well hurt was an understatement. After coming home the next morning carrying the trophy he had sneaked from Bryce to show it off to his parents—hoping to make them proud, change their minds about him that he's also significant in their family after winning his first ever Homecoming game, a congratulatory punch greeted him instead, and a very warm welcome of endless insults from his father. Heh. Nothing new. He shouldn't have bothered. All the same, his father's spiteful words—which always succeeded to affect him, despite the countless times he had whispered to himself 'I don't care'— still echoed, messing in his head. "The fuck you show your ungrateful face up here, showing off . . ." the old man cackled in disdain, and spits on the floor. "Hijo de puta! Como si fueras tan genial con tu estúpido trofeo! . . . That stuff won't even satisfy our stomachs!"

"Mr. de la Cruz, it's been half an hour, still your paper's as empty as your brain." Mr. Méndez's loud voice stole him back to the present.

Monty lifted his head up, and Mr. Méndez with his arms crossed greeted him.

He pretended to look at his blank paper, pulling it towards him. This is fucking bull! Yet he took his pen and began scribbling on the first line with the same phrases written in front, when he's tempted to write: Fuck you! Fuck you Mr. Méndez. Fuck you! Fuck you, I'm not sorry. Fuck you, I'm going to do it again. Fuck you Alex. Fuck you . . . dad.

In less than fifteen minutes he was done. Grabbed the paper, strutted towards Mr. Méndez, and proudly laid it on his desk.

Mr. Méndez looked up at him. Monty leaned down and leveled their gazes, sneering. "Can I go now?"

With clenched jaw and lips pressed to a thin line, clearly holding himself together, Mr. Méndez flicked his eyes to the exit. "The door is yours."

Monty was about to go outside when a hand grabbed his wrist.

"Wait for me!" Charlie said under his breath as he rushed his apology letter and passed it in front. "May we go now?"

"Yes, you rascals. Don't dare show your faces up here again."

With that, Charlie picked his backpack and dragged Monty to the door.

"Man, that's a first!" exclaimed Charlie.

Monty raised a brow. "So, you never been to detention before?"

"Proud to say that yes. But damn, sometimes it's fun!"

Monty chuckled. "Couldn't say the same thing. I was forced to finish my essays there once. And been asked to waste five hours doing nothing, no phones, nothing. You just do staring contest with each other." He still could remember that day when he, Zach, Marcus and Justin were caught drawing dick at the office door of principal Bolan's using a black spray paint . . . just for fun. He couldn't help but smile at the memory.

The cool afternoon breeze swept at them as they laid back down at the football field, face above the clouds.

"What happened to your face?" Charlie decided to ask—as if he didn't know—breaking the comfortable silence which Monty wished he didn't ruin.

Looking at the sky counting the white cotton balls floating, suspended in the air, Monty thought of Alex.

"Take a guess," he drawled.

"Your dad."

Shifting a bit, Monty shrugged. "Who else?" Something sick twisted in his stomach again, making him want to vomit. He didn't notice his best friend's silence. It was suddenly noisy.

"If I could just adopt you as my brother," Charlie then mumbled a moment later which Monty thought was ridiculous, but he considered the idea not unpleasant.

"Thanks for the thought." He then stood up, picked his bag and started to leave, not comfortable where their conversation was going. "See you tomorrow, bud!" 

A lot of thoughts reeled through his brain, rooting from Alex, his dad, who he was, what he was. Not to mention that certain text which he sent, quite bold and so not him to say or do.

I like you.

He couldn't remember doing it. Or more or less, he didn't want to remember. He was too high.

He knew Charlie's cookies and getting high would never do him good. 

—  end of PART II —

Chapter Text

PART III.

xi. nothing but concern

ALEX. 

"Oh, you missed all the fun yesterday, Alex!" A shit eating grin flashed Bryce's thin lips, who sat across from him by the table outside the cafeteria. 

Alex raised a brow, gazing down his phone, reading—again—the text Monty sent him. "Fun?"

"Getting into detention."

Really? Alex shook his head, rolling his eyes as he gave Bryce a quick glance. "Getting into detention doesn't sound fun and appealing." He looked back to the text: 'I like you'  

Alex scoffed to himself yet felt his fingertips shaking, and his body up to his cheeks hot. He'd been trying to decipher and come up with possible reasons as to what made Monty send this ridiculous text; what game he was playing. He shoved the phone back in his pocket, and instinctively scanned his eyes around for Monty, who's been absent from the group since this morning but he thought he had caught a glimpse of him at the halls before the first period started. 

Wait . . .

Alex squinted his eyes as if it would give him a better eyesight at the football field spotting a familiar figure from afar lying on the grass face up the clouds. 

Is that Monty?

"I don't know what's up with that dude," Bryce said, following where his gaze was.

Blush crept up Alex's cheeks from getting caught looking at Monty. He abruptly turned back to Bryce, smiling shyly. "Has he been like that earlier?" He asked as if Bryce knew the answer. But Alex thought these two held such a close bond, like that of a family.

"Well, laying on the grass, probably not, but wanting to be alone is . . . Could be some stuff at home."

The last statement captured Alex's full attention. 

Having read his expression, Bryce continued. "I don't know if you've heard or if I have the permission to disclose, but . . . he's getting beat up at home." Bryce paused, and threw Alex a look—hesitation or maybe waiting for his reaction which Alex didn't give any of away. "Yes, he's abused."

"Abused?" Alex muttered under his breath so low Bryce wouldn't hear it. He turned back to Monty who lay motionless on the field. He remembered the bruises, purple and swollen and little scratches on his body. It had disturbed Alex the first time he saw them, but his irritation towards the guy was stronger than his concern. He's certainly concerned right now.

"You okay?"

Alex blinked, looking at Bryce. He didn't know how he must look right now. "Y-yeah," he mumbled, yet he gripped his hand tight on the corner of  the table as a tinge of guilt swelled over him. 

Did he mean to be affected? To sympathize? Why was his body reacting this way?

He gave Monty one last look. And a part of his brain was telling him to go there and check on him, because why none of his friends were doing so? Why were they here? Hanging around and about and laughing together when one of their—whom they even call as brother, was obviously not acting normal? Worse, abused? He was about to take a step forward only to see Charlie appearing out of nowhere, already jogging towards Monty. And that strangely caused Alex to heave a sigh of relief.

MONTY.

"You okay there, buddy?"

An upside down Charlie appeared in Monty's peripheral view as he decided to lay and laze on the vast football field while his emotions seemed bursting like fireworks for a certain boy.

"I don't know . . . I fucking . . . I think . . .  I'm in love with him, man! He's all this dumb brain of mine could think about . . . Maybe Bryce was right . . . I am dumb . . . and I don't know how to be un-dumb, if that's even a word. God, I'm having this bad." These things Monty wanted to say but none of it bursted from his mouth. 

Not receiving an answer, Charlie laid down next to him.

"Who told you I want company?" Monty snapped.

"Myself? I can sense you need it."

"Now, you think you know what I need."

"I know so."

Monty gave up retaliating, Charlie was right, he did need his company. Loneliness was starting to eat him, thinking he was alone in this . . . Never thought he had friends who cared, but unsure if they could sympathize once they learned what he's brooding about.

"Thanks," he uttered silently after a while.

"No problemo, amigo. I just hope you can talk that out."

I don't think you'll understand. I don't understand it myself. I don't even know why I'm feeling these things. What's all these emotions? And why, of all people, it had to be Alex?

"Man, are you crying?" Charlie's worried voice hit his ear, resting with one arm, and looking down on him.

"No," came Monty's abrupt answer, yet he checked and hurriedly wiped his eyes with his wrists. "I'm not." Damn, he was crying? When did the tears start falling?

"I understand if you don't wanna talk about it. I'm just saying I'm a friend you can lean on." Lightly, and without warning Charlie brushed his thumb over his cheeks to brush the tears off, catching Monty completely off guard; blinking a few times and wide-eyed as if he just saw something terrifying and out of this world.

"What?" Charlie asked, blinking back.

Monty slapped his hand off his face. "What was that for? . . . A-Are you a faggot?!" The last words came out more disgusted than he intended. Though, there's no taking back what he just said, watching the face of his friend change from concern to pain.

"W-what did you say?” Charlie was clearly offended as his jaw set firm. “I call it ‘caring for a friend in need.’" 

Monty was quick to his feet. "I told you, I don't need anyone or your concern." 

* * * 

He didn't like it . . . the way his heart fluttered when Charlie wiped his tears. He didn't like how his body reacted and gave Charlie's good intention a bad meaning. Shit! This was all because of how he felt towards Alex and it scared Monty more that his secret—his sexuality, how he desired Alex, how he desired boys—would come out. Maybe he shouldn't have reacted that way. 

Monty began biting his nails as he curled himself in the old couch in his little getaway place, the Hobo-hotel. He'd been staying there, away from his friends or people who knew him. He'd been isolating himself, unsure what's good it's going to do him. 

What if Charlie noticed something different? Of course he did, moron, you swatted his hand away! It's just too homo what he just did! Who wipes away tears of your guy friends? It's a girly thing to do! 

xii. first girl crush

MONTY.

If he’d be honest, Monty wanted to love. If he could just sit and reflect—something he avoided doing at all cost because what's the fucking point?—he wanted love. And to be loved. But he didn't know if he's capable of it. Or, moreso, deserving of it. Sometimes, there’s this cracking, sinking feeling within his chest thinking he never knew what love was, how it worked, how it felt. Nobody had given that to him. Not even himself. He cared for his sister, but was that enough? Or was 'care' meant distancing yourself from her so he wouldn't cause her even more pain like how their father was already doing.

Leaning down to the counter he's manning on—he’s been working at Monet’s for a week now with Justin’s help to get in, to earn money so he could pay his remaining debt. It’s also a good way of escape somehow—he watched people, particularly 'couples' drinking coffee only to later found himself feeling envious, something he never felt before. Then Alex flickered in his head, imagining drinking coffee together and talking about life . . . Though, he thought he wasn't ready—perhaps never—for such a thing; to share what his life's like. He wanted to know Alex's, that's for sure. What life's like for him. Was he happy? What bothers or ticks him? What makes him smile? 

Shit—he sounded like a complete simp!

Blowing a sharp frustrated sigh, he grabbed a soaked cloth from the sink, squeezed off the water, and wiped the counter clean to keep him distracted, rather, keep himself from watching couples . . . when his hand came to a stop, catching sight of a gay couple sharing one milkshake, sipping from their respective straws dipped in their drink while staring lovingly at each other. Meanwhile the water from the stinky cloth soaking his hand altogether.

"Gross," he instinctively uttered, scrunching his nose in disgust, not in his stinking soaking hand, but to the couples, even though he's far from feeling such. Jealousy . . . that's what he felt. He wanted to kick any loving couples displaying their affections shamelessly in public outside. He just continued his wiping, having a pity party on his own.

The bell by the door jingles indicating someone entering or exiting the shop. But it was someone entering. And not just anyone . . .

Alex.

Feeling his heart skip, Monty began to fumble his hand around the cloth, moving nervously, fidgeting around the small space he's standing on, looking for something to do other than facing and taking a customer's order.

He glanced some more, specifically looking for Justin, who, at the moment, was busy preparing a number of orders—approximately five cups.

Alex was coming closer. Monty's hands started sweating. He was now desperate looking for a way out.

Skye! But the said person was at a distance, bussing the tables and then a customer signaled for her. Tsk. He tried looking around for more who could take his place . . .

"So you're working here now?" Came Alex's soft voice from the counter, clearly getting his attention. Why? Why do you keep stealing my attention? Do you like me? 

Pretending to wear this nonchalant expression, a bored look in his eyes, he absentmindedly wiped his sweaty hand on his apron.

"No, I'm just standing here and decided to wear one of their uniforms," answered Monty, surprising himself a bit that he caught Alex's question despite his bungled brain. Whether Alex took it sardonically, he didn't care. But knowing Alex, most of the time he had this disposition of also not giving a fuck. And Monty just proved himself right with his observation of this twink's behavior when that signature deadpan stare painted across Alex's face along with crossing of the arms, plus that little smirk playing by the corner of his lips.

It sometimes scared Monty how he got Alex's mannerisms memorized.

"Then, what are you doing here if you're not going to take my order?" retorted Alex. So he wanted to exchange wits.

"Good question." Monty then turned around—and he knew this would affect his work ethic but ‘whatever’—and walked straight towards Justin.

"Hey, Justy, why don't we swap places? Apparently, the guy at the counter doesn't want me to take his order"— a lie— "So I thought we swap places."

Of course, Justin would raise a suspicious brow before glancing at the counter and muttering a quite sharp, "Seriously?" 

Shrugging his shoulder, Monty rolled his eyes. "You know what it's like with me and that faggot."

"Then tell him to wait while I finish this set of orders cause I'm afraid you'll screw this up!"

"Wow! You really know to trust me."

"Dude, seriously, this isn't the time to be unprofessional! In this line of work, we have no time to choose who we serve. Tell Alex to deal with you."

"Know the saying, 'customers are always right?' He asked for someone else." Monty lied again.

"Anybody there!" Alex was now tapping impatiently at the counter, looking around for anyone to serve him. And Monty—of all the things he could think—found him cute. Alex literally looked like a lost kitten searching for its mama. Wait! He doesn't have soft spots for cats! Or any animals! That's just so gay! He remembered loving watching the show Garfield as a kid and wanted to take care of the lazy cat.

"Go to him, Monty," said Justin, cutting him from his thoughts. "Tell him there's nobody else aside from you."

Yeah. There's nobody else aside from me. Unfortunately Monty took that phrase a little too differently while staring at Alex, only to brush the sick thought with a huff.

"Whatever!" I'm not a fucking pussy! It's just Alex I couldn't stand-at-all! He smirked to himself. Not Stand(at)all. Suits him.

"Oh, you're back!" Alex quipped.

"Justin asked me a favour to take your order cause obviously no one is available at the moment." Monty picked a paper and a pen; he still needed those to memorize orders. And—mustered up all the courage to—look at Alex. "Everyone's busy for you, buddy." Then he caught himself excited to learn his orders—what his favourite drink, food and all that stuff.

“Cafe Americano,” Alex said. His exact words, "Make it black, strong. Add a shit ton of espresso, caffeine whatsoever, if you must!"

Monty gave him a weird look. Just how strong is strong?

"So in that case, we make it strong until your heart palpitates."

Alex shrugged. "Pretty much."

Monty didn't want to think that a strong, black with a shit ton of espresso shots of Café Americano was Alex's favourite drink. Did he normally take his coffee like this? He wanted to ask if he's got any problem out of concern. But being or giving concern to other people was something out of his character. He thought of coming up with another dry comment or anything just to piss this twink but decided against it, not because nothing came to mind. When it comes to satirical and snide remarks, he's so good at it. 

No words had been exchanged after that. Alex just sat and wait for his name to be called which was Justin's job to do—thank fuck. And there came a time, to which they called the 'idle minutes' where few to none customers came in or fell in line to order, so Monty caught himself—rather, took those precious seconds—staring at Alex sipping his intense black coffee while reading some notes by the corner. And the word Beautiful simply came to mind. It was easy to describe Alex as beautiful. Well, after minutes of staring, he finally came up with a reason why he kept calling the twink beautiful—something that always caused his heart to beat rapidly everytime—was because Alex looked like a girl. The corners of his lips curved up by the thought. Indeed, the only reason Monty was crushing on Alex was because he looked like a girl (even though no girl had caught his interest like Alex did to him).

Maybe Alex would be his first girl crush. Heh.

ALEX.

Having been unable to catch some decent sleep last night finishing homeworks and essays, he needed a really strong coffee just to buzz him for the day. Good luck with that though, the worst he could get from this was, like what Monty said, "heart palpitations." 

Speaking of Monty . . . never did he imagine nor expected to see Monty work as a barista, or should he say, manning the cashier. He doubted the moron knew how to make coffee or had the perseverance to learn making one. Monty was only there to make money, not because he also loved working here. Besides, who loved working anyways? People only work for money. Except his mom who showed passion in being a nurse and taking care of those in need as cliché as that sounded. Not his dad. He thought his dad only loved intimidating people. Sorry, dad.

Anyway, it's funny that Monty even cared to deny, lie and hide the fact, when it's obvious and screaming in his face, that he's now working here too like Justin. Did he find working a decent job in a café humiliating? Or too embarrassing? Or that it could  destroy his oh so terrifying reputation? 

With the corners of his lips pulling to a smirk, Alex glanced at Monty who's tending to a customer . . . respectfully. And indeed, this job helped remove that bad image of him. Alex almost failed to recognize Monty. Yet still there's that sass naturally flowing out of Monty whenever he'd entertain and take customers' order.

Wait. Alex paused. He didn't just—he wasn't observing that dickhead from his seat, right? Returning his gaze down his school notes, he circled his hands around his cup and sipped on his coffee. Thinking about it though, it's not like he hasn't caught himself doing the habit of looking over at Monty lately. At least Monty's back to showing up again to his friends . . . and talking to him—if taking his order could be considered as 'talking'. However, it was absurd, but if Alex would allow himself to be more honest, he didn't want Monty avoiding him. Or it could be the guilt he wanted to get rid of. Whatever that guilt was. 

A scoff escaped Alex's lips. Guilt? Why would he be guilty? He's not responsible for Monty's strangeness a few days ago . . . yet the confession still bothered Alex more than he appreciated. It was exhausting having to think that it's the reason why he's avoidant. 

Alex glanced back to Monty now occupied with a number of customers and looking confused about everything, which brought a little smile on his lips.

Maybe Monty had moved on from whatever feelings he bore for him. Or maybe he realized it was stupid to even like him, because he never really showed the signs that he did aside from that 'kiss'. The kiss he was forced to forget by means of money. Hah! How could Alex fall for it?! Monty just mooched off him! It could be that he decided to try—thinking it would work the second time—sending that "I like you" text to fucking play him! And did Monty really think it would work? 

Yet Alex felt his body going hot . . . his insides, boiling. The cup, should it happen to be made of paper, could've been crushed by now, by how hard he's gripping on it. Or maybe it's just too much caffeine.

xiii. one-sided crush

MONTY.

"Owe you nothing now," Monty stated, slamming the five dollar bills in front of Justin who's finishing his Math homework in the cafeteria instead of having some lunch, hoping he could still pass it before the day ends.

"Yeah, yeah," Justin said absentmindedly as he continued scribbling so hard the paper would be torn by his pencil.

"Hey, I worked my ass off for that five bucks so pay attention!" Monty said, snapping his fingers to Justin’s face. But he never knew  earning money with his own sweat felt good. He felt like he finally accomplished something for himself. Something worthy. Maybe it wasn't too late. There's still a bright future awaiting him if only he'd work hard.

Justin, rolling his eyes, leaning back on the chair as he dropped the pencil on the table, took the money and shoved it in his pocket.

"Hey, young man, you never gave me a day as you asked for that money, now don't you gimme that attitude!" scolded Monty playfully. Receiving a light jab from Justin.

"Jerk!" A smile broke off Justin's face as he lifted his gaze at his best friend. "Kidding aside, I'm honestly glad you're finally making money on your own. It ain't that bad, see?"

"Hey yo! Guys, how about we wear some Halloween costumes tomorrow!" Luke came in out of nowhere, appearing with Charlie and Zach walking on each side of him.

"How corny," Monty muttered under his breath, then he spotted Alex walking quietly behind them with Bryce and Diego eating some granola bars.

And of course his heart did that skip. 

Damn, these butterflies not getting any fun—thump!

Monty had to blink and looked away the moment Alex raised his head up and met his gaze. He absently clutched on his chest as it began drumming fast and wild along with his body trembling all of a sudden from that brief contact. And when he said brief, he meant in a literal manner, yet the effect it had left was no joke.

Feeling his knees weakening in every second, Monty took the chair beside Justin, pretending to not see Alex standing behind Charlie with Bryce's arm hooked around him. However, the sight of Bryce being that close to Alex didn't sit right with Monty.

"So, I say everyone wear a Halloween costume tomorrow as Luke suggested," said Bryce. "I guess it's gonna be fun. I'll dress as a vampire and bite Jessica's neck." His eyes landed on Justin who faked a smile, mumbling a, "Fuck off. Don't touch her." And continued solving his Math problems.

Meanwhile, Monty moved his attention—only by the corner of his eyes—on Alex a.k.a. his 'girl crush.' He seemed quieter or perhaps, pissed off from what Bryce just said. And it stirred something within Monty. It was disrespectful of Bryce to say such things. Jessica was a friend of Alex. They're mostly, if not always, together. And the next thing Monty did, surprised not only everyone, but himself too. 

"Brycey, keep your desires on Jessica to yourself. She's off limits. Heard of the word 'respect?' If you're man enough, you should at least know that, or you heard of the word 'bro code' or you want me to explain it to ya?"

Bryce smirked, snorted, then laughed so loud. The others followed laughing awkwardly except Justin and Alex. Then after a minute of laughing, his face turned grim, sending a ghost sinister stare at Monty. "Sure, Monty, care to explain to me the ‘bro code?’" He made quotation marks in the air.

Can't believe he's this stupid. "A bro code means hands off, whether it’s your pal’s girlfriend, friend or someone they’re seeing. It could also be translated to 'respect.'"

"Ooh. Let's give a hand to Monty who's finally using his brain . . . " Bryce smirked. "I know what ‘bro code’ means, buddy. Just testing you, cause I'm afraid you don't have any brain left, but I guess having no brain has its perks too when a zombie apocalypse happens. I'm sure you'll survive it . . . or maybe not anymore."

Then a cackle of laughter emerged. Justin couldn't help but snort a laugh this time and Monty caught Alex trying to suppress the smile creeping to his lips.

Great!

He thought he's doing it for that twink, only to get insulted. He scoffed and stood up and glared at Bryce.

"Sure thing, Bryce. You've taught me well after all, so make sure to always set a good example." Monty then turned on his heel and marched off, pissed. 

But maybe it's a good thing that Bryce finally acknowledged him having a brain. 

He didn't fucking care what that dickhead thought.

* * *

"Hey you snapped back there," commented Charlie, approaching Monty by the study hall during their free time. Standing by his right, instead of taking the empty chair. 

Monty chewed on his gum and made a sound through his nose, not giving Charlie a glance. He was still pissed for some reason he didn't know, except that he knew Alex had something to do with whatever was boiling inside him. It's not his thing to care, to give a damn to even try to defend someone from Bryce. On the contrary, he had always defended Bryce, he's always on his side. And this was the first time he stood up for someone against Bryce's always stupid remarks. Yeah, Bryce was fucking stupid. Not him as Bryce wanted him to appear. But then what did Alex fucking did? He laughed? He laughed at him.

Monty let out another snort. So what? Who the fuck is Alex to let him ruin my day like this?

But terrifyingly so, Monty was more affected by Alex's reaction than he appreciated. 

"You know Brycey, right? He makes nonsensical comments sometimes. We all know he's full of himself, so don't let him get to you." Charlie placed a comforting hand to his shoulder which Monty brushed off with a scoff. On the other hand, it still guilt Monty how kind Charlie was to him despite what he did a few weeks ago. Monty didn’t apologize though. That’s just how they were. 

"I'm not fucking affected. I'm fine!" It's just fucking Bryce!

"Yeah, sure. You look like you're looking good right now."

But Monty wasn't listening, too occupied with his thoughts. 'He doesn't owe you anything, Monty. Alex owes you nothing! He didn't ask you to defend him from Bryce. But I know, Bryce offended him. . . I did it for you, Alex . . .  But . . . Still he doesn't owe you anything, Monty.'

Monty let his back collapse to his chair and blew an exasperated sigh, fiddling with his index finger and thumb.

"Nope, you ain't lookin good at all," Charlie shook his head.

* * *

Having a one-sided crush was a little bit painful. How does one get over it? Pulling his waxed hair, Monty blew an exasperated sigh as he let his body drop to the old couch laying around the Hobo-hotel. Did he just admit to himself that he's crushing on Alex? For the first time? 

Yeah, as if what he did back there attempting to defend the twink's feelings from Bryce was not a sign of having a crush on someone. Well, aside from the fact that he knew he's crushing on Alex, this was actually the first time he's finally embracing and admitting it to himself for real.

Monty clutched on his chest and muttered under his breath, "Dammit, I'm really crushing on Alex."

xiv. hello, mr. halloween 

ALEX.

Halloween. It's crazy how people waste their time getting ready for this stupid event, wearing costumes, and, needless to say, looking ugly in them. And there's Jessica, who's clad in black like a rockstar, but Alex thought she looked desperate chic with her blond wig disarrayed on her hair.  Maybe it's the wig.

"What's with that face?" Jessica asked as soon as she reached Alex, and she even cared to comb her hand through her wig as if to fix it, only to mess it up even more.  

Alex shook his head. "It's just . . . you look funny."

Jessica made a face. "Gee, thanks."

"I meant a good funny."

"Nice try, Standall." Jessica paused and gave him a skeptical look from head to toe. Alex raised a questioning brow. "I'm trying to guess who you're dressed up as."

"I-I'm not—This ain't—"

"Oh I know! You're Alex Standall today! What a great costume!" She looked him up and down with squinted eyes as if to scrutinize his whole being. "You perfectly captured the way he dressed, he looked. Even the hair. If I didn't know any better I'd mistake you as him. I mean you look more Alex than Alex himself."

Jessica and her savagery.

"It's not my thing to dress up for Halloween, Jess."

"Boring."

"Whatever." Alex rolled his eyes and tilted his body around to catch Justin skipping like a five year old kid towards them, and looking just as crazy—rather, as stupid—as his girlfriend.

Wrapping an arm around Jessica, they shared a kiss, something that grossed Alex out doing it in front of him. Or more of made him remember the incident. Either way, he took it as a cue to leave the lovebirds alone.

Since it's Halloween, everywhere he turned there were a bunch of kids in costumes and there's Zach holding a snorkel . . . like . . . what kind of costume was that . . . could things get any much worse?

Well, it seemed to be . . .

All of a sudden, Michael Myers, or should he say, someone in a Michael Myers costume appeared walking in huge heavy steps,  as the Halloween man in the movie should, and they're coming towards him like a psychopath with a knife in hand, leaving him all stunned in his place, shaky knees and short quick breaths. He's all too terrified to move, mind racing thinking if that knife was just a toy or real. Then he braced himself for the worst, should his life end right there and then. 

BANG!

He was shoved and pinned against the lockers, receiving gasps of surprise around them, catching attention. Or was it him? Feeling more terrified, yet he couldn't find his voice to even utter a whimper. Michael Myers was strong, but Alex tried to hide his fear and masked it with his signature annoyed and deadpan stare. He remembered his dad telling him to not show fear in any worse situation. Never thought this was what he meant by it. Hopefully it's useful and would save his life. The Halloween man spoke—contrary to the movie—and said under his breath, "Boo!"

"Get your hands off me," Alex said through gritted teeth and not knowing where he got the strength to do so, yanked the mask off the stranger's face, meeting eye to eye with . . . Monty.

Alex didn't know what to feel in that moment; shock, confusion, anger? Or this shouldn't have surprised him at all and he should've seen this coming. Yet his chest was still beating wildly, and adding to it was their proximity, feeling the warmth of Monty's breath against his lips, especially since they share the same height. Alex tried to keep the annoyance in his face, hoping to gain back control from the situation. But the longer he stood this close to Monty the more his mouth felt dry.

"As expected . . . it's you," Alex managed to say.

Monty stepped back a little, the cockiness in his face, fading. "The fuck does that mean? Y-you knew it was me?"

Alex smirked, glancing down his lips. "It's not that hard to guess, since you're the only guy here who would care to pull such an act on me."

"Be careful with your accusations."

Alex ignored him and took a second to look around. "Everyone's staring at us."

"So?"

"You're not here to kiss me, are you?" Alex knew it was a really bold thing to say, but to witness how it flustered Monty was gratifying. Or maybe he's not in his right state of mind at the moment when this closeness was making him remember their first k—No, he just wanted to tease Monty.

"Fuck you." Monty pressed his toy blade more to the pulse of his neck, seething. "You really think you're this . . . important kid, huh? Like you can just say anything you want, be anything you want . . . but no, Alexander. Nobody cares about you." Then he stomped away, finally letting go. Alex wrapped a hand around his neck, catching his breath. His throat still burned from the contact. He's crazy.

Though Monty's words, 'Nobody cares about you . . . ' seeped deep into his consciousness.

* * *

Hanging around the jocks was a bad idea. When did it ever become a good idea anyway? 

Monty went on chasing students with his toy knife, acting as Michael Myers, which the students certainly bought as they ran away from him with the girls screaming. Alex tried to blend in the group as he could despite the only one not wearing a costume. It worked somehow. Nobody paid attention to him, treating him as invisible as he liked to be. As for him and Monty, after that incident earlier, they acted as if they didn't know each other. However the words Monty threw on him still affected Alex.

"Mr. de la Cruz!" Mr. Porter's voice echoed across the hall. Like time stopped, everybody turned still, looking at the direction of Mr. Porter then to Monty who was currently trying to force the door open with the students he chased hiding behind it. He adamantly put his knife down and in hesitance turned to Mr. Porter.

"Take that mask off, will you?"

Monty did as he was told, yanked the mask off his face, his hair rumpled in the process, but for some odd reason Alex found him fetching. He glanced away catching himself flustered.

"Fix your hair and follow me to my office," Mr. Porter's final words before he left. Students slowly dispersed from the halls and Alex had nowhere to go. If he'd be honest, he was kind of glad that Monty was stupid enough to be called to Mr. Porter's office as compensation for his hurtful words earlier. Besides, Monty had been annoying him even more in the past days. He couldn't understand the guy. As much as Alex wanted not to think about the kiss, his text—that fucking 'i like you' text—they'd just come in his thoughts spontaneously. But it was obvious Monty was treating him poorly as opposed to those things, he'd spat those hurtful words, pushed him away, mock him, taunted him. It was annoying—No, frustrating. Monty was so good at frustrating him—making him frustrated—in all sense of the word . . . not to mention, the kind of frustration Alex was still yet to acknowledge, rather, scared to even think about as he thought Monty had become more involved in his life more than he let on. 

He's not the type to get attached easily or so Alex thought.

* * *

"How would you know you want someone? Or you want something?" Mr. Harris' voice was filled with buoyancy  as he looked at his class.  He knew very well this kind of topic always caught his students' attention, as everyone's attentive, quiet and listening.

Alex started contemplating the question who he wanted and what would he do about it when Monty came into his mind. He quickly shut his eyes. What the—

Mr. Harris took a short stride on the second row, stopped, and stared at each of his students. "There's this desire to get it, right? That thing we want. The desire to pursue that someone we want, right? Look, we human beings are driven by the thing—what we call desire . . . " he continued talking about want and desire and it wasn't helping Alex at all. 

This was Science, why they hell were they talking about desire? And it's Halloween, not Valenfuckingtines.

"Alex, have you ever wanted someone?"

Shock and confusion filled Alex by the sudden call. With his heart hammering against his ribcage, he stood. Mind turned completely blank. Noticing the loss in his eyes, Mr. Harris repeated the question. 

"Do you want someone right now, Alex?"

He blinked. "I don't think so."

Mr. Harris obviously didn't accept his answer as he looked around the class with amused disbelief on his face. Finding it ludicrous? Can't a guy not want anyone or anything? Did it really sound that impossible to not want someone?

"Are you sure? No girls caught your fancy?" 

But instead of a girl . . . Monty flashed in his mind. 

Want to kill someone? Sure. 

xv. he’s just that

MONTY. 

Monty spent his afternoon in detention again. He thought Mr. Bolan was overreacting; a boring white dude with no life. Maybe Mr. Bolan didn't have a great childhood. It's not like Monty had one. But at least he's trying to make the most out of it and having fun. It's not like he's going to do a mass kill. He's holding a fucking toy knife! 

He just sat there making eye contact with his lifeless mask. Then a smile crawled its way to his lips thinking wearing a Michael Myers costume was brilliant. Thanks Charlie for the idea and the costume. It's funny to watch students running away from him as he chased them down . . . except Alex. He expected Alex to run away, to show fear. Or was he sick or something that his face couldn't make anymore emotions other than annoyance or bored stare?

Okay, he's thinking about Alex again, of fucking course.

Monty shifted in his seat as he shifted his thoughts to something else and all of a sudden he just wanted something . . . a touch maybe? . . . worse, affection.

He looked up and found himself so alone despite the number of students in detention with him. But he's the only one from his group of friends who ended up here. Yeah, because I was a fucking idiot.

Nevertheless, he thought what he did was fun.

There's still fifteen minutes left when anxiety crippled in, trapping him in this seat. He started shaking his legs, aching to get out of here. It's worse whenever this happened. Who even invented anxiety? Emotions began filling his chest, and at the same time he felt nothing. He just wanted anything to distract him from these morbid feelings; he wanted to get laid, to get high, to get drunk, to eat . . . to see Alex . .   to maybe kiss him— forget about the kiss, Monty. It's dangerous for your health.

Yet, he found himself simply wanting to talk to him. To hear his voice, to watch him speak. 

He balled his hands into fists, loneliness started seeping in, and he just felt angry . . . and sad. Dying sounded like a sweet song but he's smart enough to think it's stupid.

He's stronger than that. He's not weak, but most of the time, it's just tiring. Everything's tiring. He's just done. 

This pain and loneliness since he knew Alex was getting worse. Getting more physical. There seemed to be a screw tightening in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He tugged at the collar of his shirt. Eyes moving around the room and stopping at the door when the one who kept running in his head, and could also cause, not only loneliness and pain, but these things called butterflies in his stomach and make his heart beat in a million ways, passed by the door. And he's laughing. Monty actually heard him laugh before but it was rare to see or hear him laugh and smile. He wanted to cover his ears.

Then he remembered the words he threw at Alex earlier. Alex didn't deserve it, he knew. But he felt like saying it, maybe for Alex to get the hint. Hint of what? 

Hint that he actually cared about him. Cared about what he felt about him. Cared about wasting his time hating him; hating how that twink was making him feel.

He would love to hate Alex and would certainly hate to love him. But it seemed the latter. The path his heart was taking him down and leading him to was nowhere except towards Alex fucking Standall.

Why? Why? Why?

Burying his head in his folded arms on the desk, he could only blow an exasperated sigh. Not knowing how long he had been like that, someone nudged his shoulder and muttered, "Detention's over."

It seemed he survived yet another deadly boring time in detention. Another accomplishment? 

Not wasting any time he picked his bag and his Michael Myers' mask Bryce bought for him, and hurried outside when he slowed down, almost stopping, and there was his heart doing it's thing again—somersaulting this time—when he saw Alex, whose back leaning against the wall, standing not far from the detention room; from where he stood—arms crossed, talking with Hannah and the weird kid, Corey. 

Before their eyes could meet, Monty looked away, and walked briskly. A huff he didn't mean to make escaped his lips enough for the twink to hear. It was suddenly hard to walk faster. He wanted to run, though afraid it might make him look weird. And . . . I'm not fucking scared of Alex. He's just that . . . Alex. 

* * *

"You alright, man?" The couch creaked as Justin shifted for countless times, hugging his knees this time with a joint between his fingers.

Eyes fixated on the ceiling, Monty blew smokes, feeling high, ignoring his friend. But apparently a stick was not enough to bury this lingering shit called feelings down. 

It's just a crush. A crush Monty didn't wish to have. A major life problem. How to uncrush someone?

The next day, Monty began ignoring Alex. He never thought it would be damn hard. But he tried. And he did the same thing the next. Then days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months.  If his friends noticed something, they didn't show it. However, Alex's closeness with Charlie and Zach became a bit of a challenge, but Monty buried his jealousy down which he thought was petty. Somehow, he considered himself a resilient one, rooting from the endless abuse he received from his father. However, it seemed his resilience had its own limitations.

And as much as it pulled something out of himself, leaving an indescribable emptiness inside Monty, Alex just stopped hanging around them; his friends. He still couldn’t consider Alex, even after all those months, a part of their friend group. But as the phrase went, you’ll learn to appreciate something or someone’s worth once they’re gone. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he missed Alex. He just prioritized his pride more and didn’t bother looking or asked about the twink, pretended like he didn't exist even if he's just there.

After all . . . he's just Alex.

Chapter Text

PART IV.

xvi. it’s summer camping

ALEX. 

Monty just stopped talking to him. It’s not like he wasn’t used to the hot and cold treatment the idiot was giving him. He didn’t care either way, or so he told himself, but life goes on. And that’s what Alex did. 

Before he knew it, it’s Summer and he made it through Freshman. He survived the finals, the unending homeworks and essays and final projects. They gathered around for Homeroom for final announcements, however it was an announcement none of them expected.

To simply put, they were to participate in a Summer camping where they were all required to go. It’s not like Alex had any choice having his father assigned to watch over them along with other parents like Clay’s lawyer mom for whatever reason. He just hoped it would be fun.

Or perhaps not . . . after learning he was to share a tent with Monty, and there’s Justin. 

This Summer camping was starting to sound like torture. How could they not give them a chance to choose who they wanted to share tents with. And he’s back to being with these idiots. It’s been a long time since he stopped hanging with the jocks.

He wanted to rant about it to his dad and maybe ask if he could do something about it. But he didn’t want to look like a bratty, not to mention, teenage boy just because his father was a Sheriff, meanwhile, everyone also faced the same predicament as him. Monty probably despised being his tentmate either. Or much worse. Anyway, they just had to sleep through the night and part ways in the morning. A good plan.

* * *

First day in Summer Camp and already Monty was so loud to display his awkwardness. A really brutal one. They stopped on their tracks as soon as they reached the area where they were to set up camp with the materials to build a tent placed on the ground, and locked eyes; in their case, a glaring session. Or at least Monty was glaring but his body, stiff; so loud and obvious. Alex felt like a deer caught in headlight; his sweating hand tightened around the strap of his backpack and his throat dry. If not for Justin, only God knew how long they were going to stand like that.

“Hellooo, tent buddies!” Justin said, bubbly but he looked already high early in the morning.

Alex finally let out the breath he’s been holding and brought down the bag, careful not to meet Monty’s deathly glare. Just what the hell did he do this time? Existing?

“Is being sick enough an excuse to ditch this boring camping?” Monty whined as he dropped his bag to the dirt.

“I’m afraid you’re required to show some medical certificate to prove you are sick and not just having a lazy bum.” Justin smacked Monty’s rear after he said that, traumatizing Alex a little. Why did he end up with them? Just fucking why? He could already imagine what they’d be like inside the tent. He had to pray to all the gods nothing inappropriate happened such as hugging and tremendous snoring or a lot worse.

The first thing they did or was assigned to do was to set up the tent . . . as a team. Alex had never wished to be part of the yearbook club until he saw Tyler just roaming around taking pics and recording videos instead of sweating here while having to deal with your immature tent buddies or so Justin called. More like tent enemy. 

“Alex, I told you to hold it firmly!” Monty had grumbled countless times in less than an hour and Alex knew he’s doing it on purpose just to piss both of them off. But Alex tried to keep his cool as he didn’t want this ending up in disaster. Besides, he wouldn’t stoop so low to Monty’s childish antics. 

“I. Am. Holding. It. Firmly!” He stressed each word as he tightened his grip more around the pole; his hands were already red. The tent they were setting up was the traditional tent made of bamboo serving as poles, rope threads to tie the poles together and polyester fabric to make up the whole tent.

“I couldn’t tie it properly.” Monty grunted as he untied the rope again.

Maybe you’re the one not doing it properly. Alex wanted to argue but held his tongue.

After what felt like eternity, they managed to erect their tent. They’re probably the last ones who did. It’s not as good as the others but it was good to sleep in. Each of them got in to try.

“Mister, you sleep by the entrance,” Monty said in a commanding tone which displeased Alex.

“I have a name, Monty.”

“What’s it again? Vanessa?”

By it’s own, his hands balled into fist. Monty really had been testing his patience. 

“You have a problem with me, Monty?” Alex asked, brows meeting at the center. One wrong word from Monty and he swore didn’t know what he might do. Sorry, dad.

Clay came right on time,  jogging towards them, saving them from the impending disaster. “Guys, we’re being called to the fire pit.”

Irritation grew more within Alex when he caught Monty passing him a quick glare before he followed after Clay. Just what the heck was his problem?

* * *

Alex made sure to sit as far away from Monty as possible. He’s never thankful to be reunited with his friends again—his group of people. Hannah, Jessica, and Tyler. Clay, they’re not that close but he’s pretty cool even though lame most of the time so, he’s better off than those jocks. Jeff Atkins, Alex believed his name was, seated next to Clay. 

So Mrs. Jensen, Clay’s mom, stood at the center holding a megaphone. A wooden table next to her with papers on it.

“Good evening, young ladies and gents!”

“Good evening,” greeted the students back in an unalive tone.

“You really must be tired from all those traveling and building tents. I’ll just make a few announcements for your activity tomorrow. You all must be up at 6, have, or should I say, make your breakfast and meet me here again by 7 or 8. Does that sound fair?” Nobody answered. And she’s clearly as lost as everyone, like she’s still trying to feel the surroundings and the students. Or she really had no idea how Summer camps worked. 

Alex stopped his gaze at his father who just stood behind in the shadows. Only a few fleck of light coming from the bonfire and rechargeable lamps reached him. He seemed to be in deep thought and Alex wondered what it was or was he starting to regret coming here instead of doing more productive stuff back in the station. Watching his father for the first time, he really looked intimidating. For whatever reason, Alex searched the crowds for Monty and if ever that idiot did something to him tonight while asleep, he had his father to run to.

After the announcement, Alex didn’t care to listen until the mention of dinner. Perhaps he’s hungry. He absently touched his stomach as Mrs. Jensen discussed the instructions. Ingredients for their dinner had already been made available for them as well as the tools they would use for cooking such as the pans, spatula and the likes, but it came with a little challenge where they’re asked to work as a team— oh, God no— to look in the woods for the materials to make fire with; firewoods, gas, match sticks, you name it.

The ingredients were already there by the side of their tent when they got back. Justin expertly checked them.

“So, we got us some chicken, veggies, oil, pepper,” he said, picking each ingredient like enumerating in front of them. He smiled, face lighting up as he continued digging in the basket where the foods were placed. “Hey, they really prepared everything.”

“No pork to steak?” Monty asked as he sat beside him checking the pans. 

“Nope,” answered Justin.

Alex felt a little left out. Not knowing to do or what to say.

Justin stood up, extending both his arms up to stretch.

“So . . . Monty, Alex, you go find those firewoods while I figure out what to cook.”

“What?” Both Monty and Alex protested and stopped to look at each other.

“Come on, we need to work as a team here. Forget whatever feud you have. Maybe this is a good chance for you guys to make up?” Justin reasoned.

“Just shut up, Justin,” Monty threatened. “I’m only doing this because I’m starving and you volunteered to cook.” Then he walked straight to the woods. Alex watched in silence, having second thoughts whether he should follow Monty. 

How about no?

However, after meeting the grim look Justin sent him which seemed like a threat—seeing that he really had no intention to go—it didn’t give Alex any choice but to go after the moron, right? 

Anyway, he hated being called useless, especially not from Monty.

xvii. his great escape

MONTY.

He thought he could, but he couldn’t. 

Monty may not show it but he was . . . happy . . . Alex went after him to look for the firewood; such a waste of time though when the school could’ve just given it to them along with the food and cooking supplies. On the other hand, maybe it’s okay, he got to be alone with Alex like this. He felt kind of stupid why he’d stopped talking to him. Now he didn’t know how to start this; how to face him. And his normal nasty self thought it’d be easier to be mean to him even if Alex didn’t deserve it.

However, the moment he decided to fully distance himself from Alex several months ago, his life turned colorless. Meaningless. He didn’t know how to move forward. It was excruciating. He had to deal with his abusive father everyday; to hide and run away. He never expected his decision to forget a certain boy would take this much; to take his whole life, realizing in the past months all he had invested his thoughts of, his feelings were all on Alex. Alex. Alex. 

The boy and these unexplainable feelings he bore for him became his escape in this hellish life; every inconvenience and bad he’d thought of Alex like the calm of his storm. A little ray of sunshine in his dark, gloomy world. Until he thought he had to stop; cut the boy off his life. It’s becoming an obsession and it terrified him that he’s gradually falling for him more and more each day.

Again, he thought he could . . . he thought he had done it.

Yet . . . this stupid summer camp happened. Tying him back to him. 

“Where do we start looking?” asked Alex behind him. 

Oh how he missed his voice! And that stupid bleached hair of his!

Monty swallowed the lump in his throat. The little search suddenly became all too overwhelming. The woods seemed to be tremendous, like they’re just the two of them alone here despite the echoes of chatters and laughter of other students from afar also looking for their own firewoods.

“I don’t know,” was all Monty could mutter and it was the truth. He moved his phone which served as their flashlight from left to right but all he saw were weeds, massive roots of trees stuck six feet underground, and dirt.

“So, do we just simply look around?” Alex sighed and began taking tentative steps forward.

“That’s the plan I guess. Whatever dumb brains this hell of a school have decided to just throw us here, unless this will help pull my grades up.”

Alex chuckled, shaking his head. Warmth bloomed inside Monty, he’d made him laugh. He looked away as if the limited light from the flashlight was enough for Alex to see him blushing.

Then they just started walking in the same direction without purpose as if in understanding. And it fascinated Monty how two people could connect like this. So questionably simple.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, basking in the strange welcoming presence of the forest and the silence of each other, Alex was the first one to break it. 

“Monty.” There’s curiosity in his voice.

Monty braced himself for the incoming question. Although the way he called his name sent tingling shivers down his body. “Yeah?”

“Are you angry at me?” 

He should’ve expected the question and it was reasonable as he treated him poorly.

Was he angry at Alex?

“No . . . At some point, maybe.” Monty decided to be honest, but it was because of how he felt. Not because of Alex or what he did.

“Why? What did I do?”

Existing.

Monty gave him a brief glance and Alex looked so worried, Monty had to bite the inside of his cheeks to hide his smile. He shrugged. “Maybe . . .  I just wanted to piss you off.”

“What—what does that even mean?”

“Hey, look!” Monty took the chance to avoid answering more of his questions, catching sight of stacks of little woods tied up together with a rope, a paper bag lying beside it. He walked towards and picked it up, checking the bag. It consisted of a lighter and a bottle of what smelled like gas after bringing it to his nose.

“I guess this is it,” Monty said standing up, but Alex seemed interested to hear his answer still. Monty continued acting dense as he started walking ahead, making sure to walk slowly so Alex could catch up. “Come on, let’s go back. I’m starving.”

* * *

Monty kept glancing at Alex as they enjoyed devouring the grilled chicken Justin seasoned, in which Monty and Alex took turns to cook.

And Justin had to open the topic Monty had been avoiding since.

“We missed you in the group, Alex. Why did you stop hanging out?”

Alex gave him a considerable look. “Do I need to explain more?”

A snort helplessly escaped Monty’s lips. Alex and his always snide remarks.

“But admit it, we’re fun to be with,” Justin pushed a little more, seeking validation from Alex.

“Alright, I’ll give it to you so you can shut up.” Alex took a mouthful bite of chicken, chewed and swallowed before continuing. “At some point, I did miss hanging out with you and at the same time not.”

“Okay, that’s completely fair,” Justin nodded in consideration. And Monty thought he would finally shut up from asking more pointless questions, but he kept going. “So you don’t like being with us tonight?”

Alex reluctantly looked at Monty and gaze stopped full at Justin. Then he scrunched his face playfully.

“Worst summer camp ever.”

Monty scoffed. “Ditto.” Okay, not entirely true except the part that Alex seemed serious despite his expression being playful and light when he said that. That shit kinda hurts. Did he really hate being with them?

“You too, Monty?” Justin feigned a pained look on his face. “So you guys hated being with me?”

“Stop being dramatic, Justy. Not everything’s about you,” Monty said.

“I know what will resolve this gruesome thing called summer camp in the air,” Justin smiled as if he just had the brightest idea. One of his hands pulled something from the back pocket of his jeans but Monty already had an inkling what could it be so he rolled his eyes the moment Justin took them out. “Ta-da!” Showing in front of them three joint sticks between each space in his fingers.

Alex quickly looked around anxiously. “Put that junk away, Justin. Someone might see you and we’ll be in greater trouble.”

“Why? Your dad’s a cop, right?” Justin said haughtily, but he hid the sticks nevertheless.

Monty put his head down, shaking. He rolled his eyes. “Worst idea, Justin Foley.”

Justin turned silent as if thinking. They finished feasting on the seasoned chicken, neither delectable nor bland but just enough to fill the cravings of their taste buds and stomach. But none of them planned to leave the comfort coming from the fire where their food was grilled, now serving as their little campfire.

None of them spoke for a while. Alex intently stared at the peaceful movement of the flames, how the air guided the gray smoke up the sky. And Monty wondered what Alex was thinking as he watched the tedious motion dancing quietly by their side.

“So, guys, just for the sake of us having some shit to talk about, would you say you know what you’re looking for? Like, you’re confident to know what you want to do with your fuckin’ life?” Justin said, putting the silence into an end. “I’ll go first. Honestly, I don’t know what I’m looking for . . . I guess—”

Monty interrupted him. “Since when did you care about deep talks, Justin? And you’re fuckin’ sober.”

“Shut up, Monty. Neither of you wanted to get high so let’s fuckin’ do this, alright. As for me, I just want something normal I think. A normal family. Normal place to live in.”

This topic was making Monty a bit uncomfortable, especially when Alex was around. And he thought Alex was the most normal teenager in their group.

“Doesn't everybody want that?” Monty cut in again but he gazed back at Alex, somewhat interested to know about his thoughts, only for Justin to continue arguing.

“So is that what you’re looking for as well?”

Justin had this pointed look, almost challenging, willing to bring this conversation to a debate. 

If Monty were to answer the simple yet hard to answer question, it’s Love. That’s—what he thought—he’s looking for.

“I don’t know, Justin. What I’m looking for right now is sleep.” Monty then stood up and crawled inside their tent. He was half expecting Alex to follow but nobody appeared after him and he heard the faint voices of his tent-mates murmuring. Monty leaned his head closer to hear better of whatever they’re talking about, especially what Alex had to say, though he only caught a few bits of it.

“I . . . don’t have any idea what . . .” came Alex’s soft voice but Monty couldn’t catch the whole sentence, not hearing him properly. “Yeah, I do.” 

Monty scooted closer, brows knitting harder. You do . . . what?

Justin said, his voice quite loud and clear, “How about in a band?”

“Well,  sometimes I dream of performing on stage but . . .” Alex continued with his murmuring voice. Why does he have to talk in such a low voice? “It’s just a dream . . . too shy . . . don’t think I can.”

Monty huffed, hitting his head back to the pillow, giving up from listening more. 

xviii. lost and found

ALEX.

Justin had gone somewhere after the small deep talk they shared. It’s the first time Alex told something about himself. It felt nice. Someone really cared to listen. Maybe if he could meet more people like Justin—he couldn’t believe he’s saying this—that actually asked and listened, then it would be easier for him to actually open up and share a bit of himself. Hannah and Jessica sure listened to him too but they never asked him questions. He only shared a bit when he thought it’s necessary; to give them some advice. Nevertheless, he really appreciated the warmth of their friendship and being there for him; it could sometimes get so lonely being alone. Perhaps, they’re just waiting for him—in fear of being too forceful—to open himself up to them too, which he’s not really used to doing. Maybe, being not too aware of it, he’s built this invisible wall around him that made people, even his friends, cautious to climb up. But he’s scared to open up to people, because he thought he’s not that interesting, and they wouldn’t listen, like how his folks wouldn’t listen and only forcing this idea they wanted for him—being their son—to be someone like his brother, Peter; smart, an athlete and a scholar.

As he got in their tent, Monty was already sleeping too soundly. An arm behind his head and the other arm draped over his abdomen. Alex was reluctant at first as it felt like sharing a bed with him alone only to brush it with a ‘So what? He’s just Monty.’ Justin would be here too. Alex stopped midway hearing a low hum. So Monty snored in his sleep. The corners of his mouth curled up only to bite the bottom of his lips to stop the uninviting smile.

He sighed and just lied down next to the exit—head facing the ceiling of the tent—instead of crossing over Monty when someone grabbed a handful of his shirt, and yanked him; his body sticking next to Monty’s hot ones. Damn, he’s strong!

“Justy, blanket,” Monty moaned to his ears, sending an electrifying shiver Alex felt for the first time, tingles traced down his spine ending between his legs. 

I’m not Justin and I’m not a blanket, Alex wanted to argue but something seemed to block his throat. And his body was on fire.

“Guess, I’ll have you locked like this then.” Monty even buried his nose to his neck, tickling him and causing his breath to hitch. And this was what Alex feared from happening the most, having to share a tent with these idiots.

Maybe . . . Monty was gay after all. Or Justin too . . . if they normally slept this way . . . 

as judgmental as it sounded.

* * *

“Pay attention, Monty! We’re completely heading in the wrong direction!” Justin knocked his fingers aggressively on the map, pointing Monty his mistake.

“No. Look. We passed two paths a minute ago, and took this left as it says here,” Monty reasoned, matching the irritated voice Justin has.

“My compass says otherwise.” The said compass in Justin’s phone.

“Since when did you learn to read the compass?” 

“I was a scout,” Justin shrugged.

“Can’t we just use Google maps for this?” Monty dropped the map to his side then turned to look behind him. “Hey, Alex!” 

Like a crescendo, Alex’s heart beat gradually; louder and  faster it went by each step Monty took closer to him. 

He stiffened. Monty stood beside him. Their shoulders bumped. Alex had to catch his breath from that very insignificant contact. 

“Look, we just turned this way, right?” Monty glided his index finger on the sketched map, pointing at the specific route turning right. Alex thought the drawing looked ridiculous. It had many routes! How would they know which way to go! And he wasn’t paying attention in the first place as he was busy planning an escape from these two dimwits as they’re busy arguing about directions. Alex now felt desperate to be free from them. This felt like prison. He thought he couldn’t survive another day with them after waking up being sandwiched between Monty and Justin. Justin’s long legs toppled over him and Monty; his foot almost kissing Monty’s cheeks. 

Yet he’s still here ‘goodie hunting’ with them or what Mrs. Jensen called their little activity.

“I-I guess,” Alex stammered. His feet took two little steps away from Monty. Why was he suddenly nervous standing next to him? 

“Wow, that’s very helpful, ‘I-I guess.’” mimicked Monty and raised a mocking brow at Alex. “You guess?”

“How would I know! I’m not h-holding the map!” Alex tried to make eye contact.

Monty sighed. Instead of admitting that Alex made a valid point, he rolled his eyes and walked back to Justin. “I know I’m correct about this. Just follow me. I never get lost, Justy. You best damn well know that!”

“Right, right! But allow me to blame you if you got this wrong. There’s always a first, Mon-tay!”

“Stop calling me that!”

Justin laughed, patting Monty on his lower back. 

And they got lost. They only managed to find one goodie bag but failed to find the way back to the campsite. However, the smell of trees and the sound of the forest felt pleasant or at least to Alex. He forgot that he wasn’t alone for a while until Monty cracked in laughter and Justin was jabbing his arm non-stop.

“You know I’m terrified of anything that crawls!” exclaimed Justin in a shaky voice.

“Watch out, Alex! Snake!”

In an instant, Alex looked around trying to conceal the panic he felt. “SHIT! Snake!” He ran away but Monty grabbed him, snickering. 

“I’m just mess—”

Alex shot him a terrified look pointing at the log where he saw the snake. “There’s literally a snake!” Then he, grabbing Monty by the wrist, tugged him along. 

They ran and ran, the shock Monty had back there subsided realizing how Alex held onto him as they got deeper into the forest, however, Alex was still obviously shook and only stopped running when they were out of breath.

“Fuck!” Alex exhaled.

Monty couldn’t help grinning, he loved watching Alex. “So you’re that terrified of snakes.”

Alex frowned at him. “Who’s not?”

Then they both stared down their hands and quickly let go.

“Fuck! I hope there’s no snakes in here!” Monty exclaimed to break the tension.

They obviously ran a mile noticing how quiet the surrounding was with just the two of them and a cluster of forest trees, moss and weeds. 

Monty instinctively searched his pockets for the map or they’re doomed. This forest was too vast not to get lost into. And it’s just him and Alex here .  . . alone. Maybe it’s not as bad— RIIING!!! He jumped from the loud ringing of his phone echoing through the stillness. It was Justin. He hurriedly answered but even before words came out of his mouth, Justin’s voice boomed, he had to pull his ears from the phone, wincing.

“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS?!”

“Calm down!” Monty said. He looked around. “You wanna hear the truth? . . . I don’t know.”

“You with Alex?”

Monty glanced at Alex who continued looking around. And just that sight of him sauntering as if examining the forest made his heart flutter.

“Yeah—” he paused momentarily, hearing himself using that soft dreamy voice, and immediately coughed, changing it into indifference. “Yeah.”

“Can you find your way back?”

“Fuck if I know! I think I’ve lost the map.”

“The map’s with me. Just use Google like you told me earlier.” Now Justin’s mocking him.

“Funny,” Monty deadpanned but at the moment he kind of wanted to take some time alone with Alex. “So, see ya later. Alex and I still have some figuring out to do.” Justin hung up first after muttering back a ‘see you and take care.’

Justin Foley could be some sweet fella if he wanted to.

Looking back at Alex, Monty thought liking a person was really one weird shit. After all those months of no contact his heart still beats for the twink when there’s a shit ton of guys at school. He got some good looking friends, well most of them were. There’s Charlie, Zach, Scott, Diego who got nice qualities and were chased by a lot of girls. Not to mention a dickhead like Walker despite his notorious disposition was liked by girls, and guys like him might as well too. Yet Monty always caught himself attracted to Alex. And there his heart chugging like a train again underneath his ribcage when Alex finally turned to him with that gentle gaze.

“Was that Justin?”

Monty didn’t answer his question and decided to tease him. “You find our way back since you led us here.” He stared at Alex . . . and he wanted to kiss him.

Can I kiss you? A stupid thought came, besides they’re alone. 

Monty brushed it off as it was plain stupid. And Alex might think he’s a freak.

Alex began walking.

Monty rushed after him. “Hey, where you going?”

“Leading our way back.”

In amusement, Monty followed silently watching Alex get lost. He checked the time. They still have three to four hours before it gets dark. And as funny as it was, Alex used Google which miraculously aided them back to the campsite and they’re only five minutes away.

xix. that’s a first.

ALEX.

The goodie bag they managed to find included three mosquito repellents, maybe this was better off than getting nothing. But some, who luckily didn’t get greeted by a snake, got a stub that said blankets and soft pillows, and some got snacks and sodas. 

Justin still had this long face since he wanted to at least gain some pillows. And it sucks that he’s acting like a kid by ignoring and making them feel like it’s his and Monty’s fault they only got one goodie bag when he could’ve done something to help himself.

Good thing the day after tomorrow would be the final day of this dreadful summer camp even though summer camps used to be enjoyable when he was five to six years old.

A loud sigh filled the tent as Monty stepped in, making Alex jump from his relaxed position by the corner, texting Jessica and reading her complaints about Chloe being her tent mate saying: GOSH! Chloe snores so loud . . . the girl complains every second like she can’t live a day and won’t help us survive with all her complaints! Can you believe she even blames why there’s a lot of mosquitoes like duh! we’re obviously camping outside and mosquitoes just live everywhere.

“So, you’re here,” Monty stated in a bored tone as if tired from wooing Justin.

Alex didn’t like the idea of being alone with this guy that he crawled his way outside muttering, “I’ll just brush my teeth.”

“Not so fast,” Monty gripped his wrist and it was a little bit tight however it didn’t strike Alex negatively. It’s more like . . . he didn’t want Monty to let him go.

The air shifted all of a sudden. The tent seemed to shrink even more despite its tight space. Alex didn’t move. He couldn’t.

“You’re going back here, right?” Monty continued. His lids looked heavy. 

Then there’s that weird smell.

Alex scrunched his nose from the pungent smell. “Did you drink? Are you drunk—” a finger stopped on his lips but it’s not just anyone’s finger, it’s Monty’s and that contact caused racing inside his chest, his hand absently gripped on the makeshift mattress for support or he’d fall. 

“Shush! I’m not!” Monty then let go and slumped his body down to sleep.

Even if he denied it, it’s obvious he drank. His breath smelled so foul yet Alex felt differently instead of disgust.

He hurriedly left the tent running to the nearest tree, forgetting what his reason of getting out aside of intaking back the oxygen he lost.

“Hey!”

Alex jumped, grabbing his chest gasping, “Shit!” 

Charlie appeared out of nowhere or was it behind the tree trunk?

“Did I surprise you?”

“No,” Alex shook his head. “I just want to gasp.”

Not totally expecting the reaction, Charlie laughed a little bit loud, Alex thought it’s a wee bit much. Well, Charlie was always this happy guy. He wondered where he got all those serotonin from and he’d be happier to get some.

“You’re funny,” Charlie said after he calmed down. 

“Sorry to break it to you but you’re the first guy to tell me that.”

“Guess that means I have a bad sense of humor.”

“Certainly. You should start assessing yourself.”

Charlie seemed to take his words lightly, he said, “No. I’ll take it as a compliment to be the first person to appreciate your bad sense of humor.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Charlie chuckled again and stared at him as if he’s a piece of art or a valuable item. Alex looked down.

“Are you sure no one has ever told you you’re funny?”

“I don’t know,” Alex shrugged. Though he found Charlie’s unusual compliment strange. He’s not used to getting compliments. He’s not used to receiving such kind of recognition but on one hand it was flattering. 

“Charl-ay Santo George!” Some guy Alex could only assume as Diego shouted from afar. 

Scratching the back of his head, Charlie chuckled sheepishly. “Someone needs my undivided attention. So . . . good night, Alex,” he said with earnesty in his voice and eyes.

And for some reason Alex didn’t take Charlie’s approach as anything but friendly.

* * *

Alex woke up with a cellphone camera on his face.

“Justin, wha—”

“Haha, okay sorry about that,” Justin finally kept his phone yet the fact he had the picture remained. “‘Tis just . . . you guys position looked intimate.”

Alex scrambled off Monty whose arms were snaked around him again. But the idiot just moaned and looked unbothered in his sleep.

“Look, there’s something I need to tell you.” With a faltering voice Justin had to check the person behind Alex before continuing and started talking softly. “I think Monty likes you. I mean he told me.”

Alex knew about Monty liking him but in doubt. However, the fact that Monty had told Justin about it was a bit too much.

“What?” He decided to play pretend. “And why are you telling me this?”

“Just so you don’t get the wrong idea why I took that picture. Something to tease Monty off.”

“Gee, thanks for considering my feelings.”

“Okay, I know you must hate Mon—him. But try to get to know him better. He can be a great . . . Okay not really great but . . .”

See, even Justin, his friend, was having a hard time defending his mean ass.

“Look Justin, Monty—I doubt he’ll ever make any move to at least ask me out or let his feelings known, so stop trying to make a good word for him. Don’t make this anymore uncomfortable between us.”

“But haven’t you noticed anything? I mean just anything when you guys got lost and alone yesterday in the middle of nofuckingwhere?”

Alex tried to remember. “Nothing really unusual . . . except pissing me off which we both know is the typical Monty you know.”

“I heard my name,” Monty said with his voice thick with sleep, his eyes closed.

“We’re just talking about how you snore like a boar,” Justin said then he signaled Alex to talk outside.

“Look, it’s news to me about Monty being into guys but I began to finally see it seeing how he looks at you.”

Look at me? How does he look at me? However his body seemed to react positively to this information. However it’s been a long time since the confession and Monty stopped talking to him so Alex thought whatever Justin said was irrelevant, although Alex decided to just ride along.

“Sure, Justin. I’ll watch out now.”

“No. That’s not what I meant. I just want you to understand everything. This. And you seem like—no, I know you’re a good guy and won’t be mean to him. To tell you, It’s really surprising or must be fated that you two had to team together in this summer camp.”

“Wow, a lot of revelation today. Justin Foley believing in fate?”

Justin scratched the back of his head. “Haha, maybe. Maybe I do. And please don’t tell Monty I said anything. Just act normal.” Then he left and Alex had no interest in knowing where.

Always the good guy.

“Alex, son.” Bill came approaching. He’s already in his police uniform with his top still unbuttoned. His hair disheveled. How he’s gonna survive without mom. A cup of coffee in hand.

“Dad.” It’s funny that they were together on this camping trip yet they only talked on the final day.

“Have you fixed your stuff? Let me bring it to the car. Let’s drive you home.”

But they’re supposed to go home by tomorrow morning, not today.

Seeing the look on his face, Bill continued, “Duty calls so I have to leave earlier and since there’s nothing much to do here I thought I’d bring you home unless you still want to stay here and I’ll just go back tomorrow morning to fetch you.”

“I’m fine, dad,” Alex said. He’s not a grade schooler anymore. “Go on without me. Have a safe trip back.”

“You too. And just call if you need anything.” With that his father left. 

And like what his dad told him, there’s no activities to do since it’s the final day but it didn’t mean they didn’t have any more things to do. In fact there could be a lot, like checking the lake nearby, exploring the forest—which Alex found unappealing now having got lost after stumbling by a snake. Checking the lake seemed interesting though.

“So, how’s Justin as a roomie?” Jessica asked,  munching the mallows they grilled earlier, as they trod their way to the lake, and she’s a little inquisitive about it. Meanwhile Alex prayed no predator would welcome them along the way.

“You want the truth?” Alex said, like it was a challenge.

“Nothing more.”

“All I can say is jeez,” he made a disgusted face, “how can you date such an idiot?”

“I know right,” Hannah agreed.

“Oh shut up,” defended Jessica. “He’s not just an idiot, he can be quite sensible.”

Alex couldn’t argue with that. He thought—not really knowing the person completely—Justin was better than Monty. 

The lake looked nothing extraordinary. Perhaps Alex expected more but what more was there except a body of water. They met Tyler there taking pictures of the boring looking lake with Zach just basking in the sunlight, breathing the fresh air of nature. It’s refreshing to see anything other than buildings and taking in polluted air from the city.

* * *

That evening, their final evening, when everybody thought the Summer camp activities were over, Mrs. Jensen called everyone to gather around the bonfire. In her hand was a large conch seashell, you have to use both hands to carry it, and she asked them to pass it around as they answered the question for what she called the Freshman share, “Tell us something about the person on your right.”

Alex regretted being seated between Monty and Bryce, with Bryce on his right side so the moment the shell reached him . . . 

“So, Alex, tell us something about Bryce,” said Mrs. Jensen.

Alex began shaking his legs. What to say about Bryce? What to say about Bryce? Dammit!

“Uh . . . I don’t know if he knows it but he intimidates people.” Damn, he just said what first came to his mind.

He felt Bryce tensed and relaxed and looked him straight in the eye.

“Good observation, Alex,” Bryce mused.

Alex absently passed the shell to Monty, trying to hide his discomfort under Bryce’s gaze but at least he proved his statement to be true.

“Monty, what can you say about Alex?” Mrs. Jensen asked. 

Alex couldn’t move all of a sudden like the shell they passed around remembering what Justin told him earlier about Monty. He listened to what Monty had to say.

“Uhm. What I say about Alex is . . . ” Alex could feel Monty’s gaze at him; the beating of his heart seemed to stop. “Cunning.”

What?

The group laughed, which sounded like applause.

“Cunning?” Mrs. Jensen repeated. “Would you mind elaborating?”

Alex mentally rolled his eyes. Thank you, ma’am. As if cunning didn’t sound horrible enough.

Monty scratched the back of his neck. “Er, you see, Alex gives us this impression of this quiet, studious kind but he’s not just that. He’s more than meets the eye. He’s more than the statement his bleached hair shows. But that’s already deceiving enough. His hair could give us this impression but if you get to know him . . . he’s really cool and kind of rebellious, good at games, plays the guitar well . . . ” he licked his lips and glanced at the ground finishing his sentence with a shrug and, “Yeah.”

That was a lot more words than Alex expected. Though he couldn’t tell if it’s a compliment—well it’s a compliment but coming from Monty sounded different and that’s a first and Mrs. Jensen confirmed it for him.

“That’s really nice of you to say, Monty.” She had this smile as she looked at Alex as of that endearment or as a discernment.

Not taking the attention any longer, Alex uttered a  mental thank you when Mrs. Jensen finally moved on to the next student.

Then he smiled to himself. 

Nobody had ever (yet) called him studious.

xx. the last ride.

MONTY.

Monty scanned the bus for a certain bleached haired boy. He wondered what his friends thought about the thing he said regarding that particular boy last night. He thought he overshared. He just stopped himself from saying more as words just spilled out of his mouth when he started talking about Alex and it’s the first time he talked about that guy and in front of people. So he didn’t sleep in the tent avoiding the bleached haired boy again. But now he wanted to at least spend the last ride with him before parting into Summer but alas, the boy was nowhere to be found, instead he ended up sitting beside Charlie who was obnoxiously singing some pop song through his earphones. It’s okay with Monty sitting with someone singing but Charlie was completely out of tune. 

“Mummy don't know daddy's getting hot . . . at the body shop . . . doing something unholy~”

He wanted to call him out but he knew Charles would just piss him off more and sing the whole ride; Charlie could be that type of guy. Maybe he really rubbed off of him completely from being this neat white boy to this idiot. “Oh-ee-oh-ee-oh, he left his kids at ho-ee-oh-ee-ome~” Charlie continued with his terrible singing skills. But Monty had no regrets. Shifting comfortably in his seat he crossed his arms, shut his eyes, plugged his own earphones before hearing Luke yelling for Charlie to stop—he smiled to himself—and drifted off to sleep.

-end of part iv-

Chapter Text

PART V.

xxi. wanna go somewhere?

MONTY. 

A week after the Summer camp Bryce called everyone to party at his house. Finally! Something to do aside from hanging out with the coffee machine at Monet’s although he’s so glad to see his piggy bank slowly being filled with his salary money; and he’s already debt free to Justin. As of now he didn’t know what to do with the money but one day he knew it would be useful. He could run away, leave this town, start a life of his own. For the meantime, he had to bust his ass.

The Walker’s pool house was already crowded when Monty arrived. Girls in bikinis, Zach, Justin and Bryce in trousers and making out to one of them. Wait, Jessica’s one of them. ew! Monty thought. Better have beer with the guys. He went straight into the pool house. The remaining guys were there; Diego, Luke, Charlie, Marcus and Scott playing pool. And by the couch seated Alex . . . alone, joystick in hand, too immersed in shooting enemies to notice everything. On the other hand, everybody’s too busy to even detect him entering and Monty refused to make himself known. Eyes on Alex, he hesitated, glancing around for a bit and decided to pour keg in a cup before setting himself down by the couch beside the boy.

“Hey!”

“Hey,” Alex replied thoughtlessly as he tapped on the joystick rapidly and hard, eager to win whatever multiplayer mode he’s in.

It always amused Monty to watch him play. And when Alex asked if he wanted to join him in a new match, he waved a hand and said, “Thanks, I’m good.” He’s entertained enough already just drinking beer watching Alex round after round, win each different mode, admiring his gaming prowess. He’s just . . . 

“How are you so fucking good at this?” Monty couldn’t help but to exclaim.

“It’s just natural-born talent, Montgomery.” Alex and his dry replies, another thing that amused Monty.

“Chug! chug! chug!” The boys chanted behind them, stealing Monty’s attention for a moment. Luke was carrying Scott by the keg who’s gulping huge amounts of beer.

“What’s going on?!” Monty shouted through their loud chants, smiling.

Charlie walked over to him and glanced at Alex. “We lost so . . . it’ll be my turn after Scott.” He put a hand over Monty’s shoulder, shaking him quite desperately, but stealing a glance at Alex again after. “Help me! You know I’m not good with beer.”

“Nah! I’m here to capture this moment.” Monty took out his phone.

“Some kind of friend you are!” Charlie playfully nudged him. For the third time he looked at Alex.

“I know!” Monty grinned. “This . . . ”

“Charles Hayden Brixton, you’re next!” called Diego with Scott standing next to him trying to find his balance wiping the beer off his mouth.

“ . . . is the true meaning of friendship,” Monty finished as he positioned his phone camera over Charlie who was being carried by Diego and Luke. This time Alex watched.

After taking a few seconds of video of Charlie chugging by the keg, Monty looked at what he recorded, smiling as he did. Charlie looked like an idiot. Then he placed his phone back in his pockets. Another use for future blackmail just in case, knowing he hadn’t put Charlie into one yet. Then he turned to Alex as he sat back properly in his seat and Alex moved his gaze back at him. Monty got lost in his bored blue eyes.

“This party is getting boring,” sighed Alex as he returned his attention to the television screen showing his paused game.

“Yeah,” Monty agreed.

“Heh. Of course, since you only sit there and refuse to join me.”

Monty had an idea. He scooted closer to Alex.

“Hey. How about we go somewhere?” 

“Where?”

Sitting this close to Alex, Monty couldn’t help but stare at his lips. “Just . . . anywhere.”

“Hmmm. Okay.” Alex stood up first.

* * *

This was the first time Monty was doing this. It seemed like asking his crush out on a date, except this wasn’t a date, well, it technically felt like one with the jitters stirring inside his body. 

And it’s already too much for Monty to be sitting inside the Jeep with Alex as it’s just the two of them. He rolled the windows down. Sometimes breathing some outside air was good.

“So where are you going to take me?” Alex tapped his hand on the window frame. 

“Anywhere this Jeep will take us.”

“Not the police station. We’re both drunk and you’re driving.”

Monty started to drive, and left the Walkers’ premises. “I’m not that stupid, Alex.”

Silence surrounded them after but it was a peaceful one. Glancing occasionally at Alex, Monty could say he basked in their now quiet town with shops closed and dozing neighborhood. 

Finally, Monty parked by the side of San Francisco bay near Fisherman’s Wharf, but far enough from the still bustling place. 

“Just a moment,” Monty said as he rushed to the back of his Jeep and took a paper bag out.

“What’s that?” Alex squinted at him. Wearing this winning grin, Monty walked over to Alex.

“I sneaked off some beer and chips from the party.”

Alex rolled his eyes, smiling. “Impressive.” 

Then they settled by the hood of the Jeep and marveled at the bright lights of the Golden Gate bridge and the other side of the city. Alex took a can of beer, yanked the lid off and drank. 

“Breathtaking,” Alex exhaled the word after gulping the liquor down his throat, pertaining to the beauty before them,

“Is this your first time seeing this?”

“Call me crazy but yeah.”

Monty always hung out here whenever he ran from home and this view, this picturesque view, always calmed him but tonight was different. He glanced at Alex and he thought he’s lovelier than what stood before them.

“So, your dad’s a sheriff,” Monty decided to ask after a while, breaking the silence. He just wanted to hear Alex’s voice who just hummed in response.

“What’s it like? Ain’t he giving you a hard time?”

Alex chuckled, which sounded like music to Monty. “You bet.” He grabbed a handful of Doritos and tossed one in his mouth. He chewed and said, “There are times I felt like being under his watch, and he’d send me to jail if I made a wrong move when he’s a sneaky one himself, he mostly does business under the table.”

“But still it doesn’t make him any less strict towards you.”

“I wouldn’t describe him as strict. But guess why I did my hair like this,” Alex pointed at his unique hair. 

And that was news to Monty. “Ooh . . . I see,” he nodded, smiling and took a swig of his beer, savoring the warmth against the chill of the night.

“I’m learning not to take him seriously,” Alex defended, though his eyes spoke otherwise. Monty could see sadness, or a grudge in them but at the same time this longing to be distinguished for who he was. 

“He had these expectations,” Monty stated as if he knew or understood Alex better. “But whatever we do, we’re just not good enough.” Or maybe he’s just forcing this idea on Alex even though they had nothing in common. Or maybe he’s talking about himself.

Alex was staring at him. “Can I ask you something? Kinda personal though.”

Monty, not knowing what to do, prepared himself. Or maybe this was what he always wanted; someone to try to get to know him; someone to listen and understand him. “Yeah?”

“Your dad . . . does he—okay, never mind,” Alex looked away.

They both turned silent. Monty thought he was ready but the moment Alex dropped the question, relief washed over. Though at the same time there’s this desire of opening himself up to Alex. He looked at him. There’s nothing wrong with trying. Inhaling a mouthful of air, Monty opened his mouth but nothing came out. There’s a hundred things he wanted to say, or he wanted to just urge Alex to continue whatever that question was, and then there’s nothing. He just wasn’t ready. It terrified him that he might scare Alex away. Or he’s the one who’s scared to lose him. All the what if’s piling up his brain. Not taking the anxiety growing inside him, he chugged a huge amount of the vile liquid down his throat. And none of them spoke after a while.

* * *

Empty cans of beer and two packs of Doritos scattered on the ground. 

Alex had his face pointed up at the night sky as he now laid down the hood of the Jeep.

“Damn, I never drank that much for too long,” he moaned, covering his eyes with an arm to kill the dizziness.

Monty chuckled drunkenly. “Oh yeah, but you might fall asleep in that position.”

A lazy smile crawled on Alex’s lips, placing his arm down to his abdomen, eyes still closed. “I could really fall asleep right here . . . Anyway, thank you for bringing me here, Montgomery. I really mean it.”

The way Alex called his name warmed Monty’s cheeks. He wished to hear it again, however, in just a few seconds Alex had stopped moving. Monty called and waved a hand to his face. “Alex! Hey!” Then he laughed through his nose. The twink sure got wasted in five cans of beer. Then he looked at Alex intently, heart drumming rapidly, buzzing through his ears. He studied his face and it’s terrifying how he got it memorized still except for the piercing on his nose. Has it been there before? How could he only notice now? His eyes moved down his lips—parted ones. Dangerous. But his life had always been in danger. What’s the difference tonight? Besides, it’s just a . . . His tongue absently grazed against his chapped lips until he felt Alex’s warm breath. He didn’t notice he had leaned down too close. Too recklessly close. But this was what he always wanted to do.

Just a taste.

Monty closed his eyes.

He’s just less than an inch away.

Maybe . . .  go . . . do it—

“Gah!” Monty grunted, pulling his body up. Turning away. “Bad move, Monty! You’re drunk! You both are and he’s asleep. It’s just alcohol talking,” he scolded, mumbling to himself.

He looked back at Alex then reality slowly dawned upon him.

Oh, Alex! What am I going to do with you?

xxii. is that a big deal?

ALEX.

“Alexander, where have you been? We’ve been texting and calling all night.” His distraught mom exclaimed as soon Alex entered the house. And it didn’t help that he looked like a mess, his hair sticking up to different sides, not to mention the acrid scent of alcohol and sweat mixed together in his crumpled shirt. But how was he going to explain to his parents that he found himself waking up beside Monty still dozing off inside the mattress set up at the back of his Jeep by the side of San Francisco bay, seagulls cawing from the outside. On the other hand the way he appeared at this moment needed no explanation that he got wasted.

“I told you I partied at Bryce’s,” he explained briefly, walking past his mom to his room to avoid any more prying questions from her.  

He locked himself inside his room and looked in the mirror. He didn’t recognize the kid staring back at him. And the chaos as he was, matched his foul odor, it stung his nose and screamed BATH! But he didn’t have any energy to at least shower. And this fucking headache was no help either. He just wanted to lie down. He propped by the edge of his bed when his phone chimed. With tired, clumsy fingers, he pulled his phone from his pocket and all the haze whirling in his head vanished in an instant seeing the name of the sender with the ID <this guy is annoying> flashed on his screen. The guy no other than Monty.

this guy is annoying: did you make it home?

Monty sounded worried, like his mom. Yet it didn’t fail to put a smile on Alex’s face and for his heart to flutter. He thought of me.

Alex: Yea. sorry for just leaving without letting you know. u were in a deep sleep.

this guy is annoying: aren’t you going to ask how i am or where i am at least?

Alex: okay. where r u?

this guy is annoying: still from where you left me. i feel terrible like just kill me now.

Alex decided to joke around.

Alex: sure thing. when do u want me do it?

this guy is annoying: after i call the police.

Alex: you know my dad’s a cop. he would back me ⬆️

this guy is annoying: okay. i give up. you keep winning don’t you?

Alex: not really. maybe i was just born that way.

Not long after <this guy is annoying> appeared on his caller id. Alex felt a leap inside his chest. He waited for a few seconds pondering if he should answer but eventually took the call.

“Hey.” His heart was beating like crazy, it was indescribable.

“Hey,” answered Monty. “Uh . . . about last night. I felt stupid for not saying anything and . . . I just thought that I was too silent and bore you to death.”

“No. It’s okay. I should’ve said something too. Maybe I’m the boring one, you couldn’t say anything.”

Monty was quick to answer, “No, no. You’re not.” There was a pause. “Anyway, you have any plans later?”

Is this a trick question? Alex thought so he pondered what to say. “If sleep counts as a plan. I swear my head is killing me.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m still alive so maybe that’s good enough?”

“Your mom’s a nurse, right? ” 

“Yeah. H-how did you know?”

“You . . . mentioned before?”

When? Alex couldn’t remember or maybe it’s just his headache fucking with his memory.

“Maybe she can give you some meds for your headache.”

“To be honest, you sound like her right now.”

Monty laughed a breathless laugh. “Yeah? . . . Just rest well.”

“Thanks.” Alex waited from the other end of the line like an idiot only to learn that Monty already hung up leaving him, rather, hanged from their conversation like what was that? How could he end the call without warning or at least saying goodbye?

He began typing a message for Monty to tell him that he lost him there so to know if Monty really hung up on purpose or not, only to stop midway. Why does he care? He never before.

But he couldn’t help but wonder why Monty called. Just to apologize? Since when did he learn to feel sorry and for something trivial as being unable to be a good company?

And why was he wasting his time overthinking it?

Letting out a deep loud sigh, Alex dragged his body off the bed to take a warm shower.

So that was the first time Monty called, rather, talked to him in what he considered to be a lengthy substantial matter.

The second time was at Monet's. Though Alex didn’t consider it a chance meeting, learning that Monty still worked there, and it happened to be his favorite place to hang.

Even before the straw reached Alex’s lips, wanting a taste of the new Frappuccino on the menu he wouldn’t miss to try, Monty suddenly materialized out of nowhere, sliding next to him on the couch, bumping his shoulder in the process and said, “So Corey had been banging your friend, Hannah. She’s Hannah, right? Your friend?”

“Wait,” Alex gave him his full attention, “who’s Corey?”

“Er . . . the weird kid . . . the . . . Jensen guy?”

The way this guy described a person. Alex mentally rolled his eyes. “It’s Clay. Not Corey.”

“Doesn’t matter. So is it true? They bangin’?”

Bangin’? Alex took a sip. “I wouldn’t use that word to describe their relationship.” The richness of almond seeped through his taste buds and as always the drinks here never disappoint.

Monty bumped their shoulders again and kept on pressing. “So it’s true.”

Hannah never mentioned nor told him anything about Clay, and Alex couldn’t see Clay being such a guy. He had this reputation of a good kid that never failed a subject because he prioritized his studies first before getting into any relationships. An example each student should follow. But for Alex he looked like every teacher’s favorite. Clay toured new students—not him being excluded when he first stepped into Liberty—around the campus. He’s a nice guy though kind of bland. So, if ever what Monty was saying held some truth in them . . . 

Alex turned to him again. “Where’d you even hear that? And as you said, she’s my friend, you can’t talk about her like that to me.”

“Okay, sorry. If there’s one thing you ought to know about me is that my mouth has no filter. And I’m just plain curious.” Monty shrugged. “So, is it true?”

“Since when did you care about others’ business?”

“Always, Alex. I always care. And I care about you.”

Alex blinked. Both of them blinked. And stared. It was a whole minute. Alex, to save himself or both of themselves from the awkward situation, joked. “Then what kind of gossip are you hearing about me?”

“Gossip?” Monty snorted. “Who even uses that word anymore?” Not receiving a reaction from Alex, he continued, squinting at him quizzically as he racked his brain for one, “Things I heard about you . . . hmm . . .  I hear people say you're odd and strange, and some say,” a stupid smile formed his lips, “your hair’s so gay!”

Gay.

With a roll of his eyes, Alex forced a breath through his nose. Although the statement still left this question inside him. He looked at Monty, as in ‘stared’ at him, causing the other to avoid his gaze. There’s this feeling that always stirred whenever he got this close with this idiot. 

“You don’t seriously believe those, do you?”

Monty gave this teasing smile and shrugged, leaning back to his chair. “It depends. Unless you prove them untrue.”

“I’m not . . . gay.” Or that’s what Alex believed, however doubt mixed with that statement now. “But I mean . . . what if I am?” It’s his turn to avoid Monty’s gaze. “Is that a big deal?”

A heavy silence surrounded them except the soft chatters inside the coffee shop until the girl from the counter shouted for Monty to help around. And just after Monty stood, Alex heard him say, “It is . . . for some.”

Chapter Text

PART VI.

xxiii. school not cool.

MONTY.

Back to school again. Not exciting for Monty at all. Meeting his friends? Sure. However he found himself looking forward to seeing Alex, which sent this zap in his heart. 

Well, it’s not like he hadn’t met him two weeks ago. And there was no communication after that talk back at Monet’s. Monty stayed up that night thinking about what Alex told him. He was convinced that twink was gay but he still refused to believe it or maybe it was the denial he actually felt about himself; who he really was, what he really was. And how it would affect him if his suspicions towards Alex were true.

“You okay?” Estela’s voice pulled him from his incoming self loathing. 

He decided to take the bus with his younger middle-schooler sister, Estela. As it would save him more money from gas. Since he started working, and not sneaking some money from his dad’s pocket whenever that asshat wasn’t around, he learned the value of each penny. 

“Since when did you start working as a barista?” Estela decided to ask when Monty ignored her the first time, with this sly smile on her lips she tried hard not to show. 

“A while,” was all Monty’s reply, not interested to share the details.

They weren’t really close and stayed out of each other’s business. Affection wasn’t their language; it was never taught to them, but to be cautious around each other. Like breathing was the only thing allowed in their not so humble abode.

The bus finally arrived and they hopped in and went to different seats. Monty stopped midway seeing Alex sitting alone at the back looking out the window with headphones on. Monty almost didn’t recognize him because of his new hair color. Was it something he said? But Monty thought Alex still looked fine. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring, when the bus moved and he almost lost his footing. Thanks to his fast reflexes, he gripped on a backseat before disaster happened, disaster equals landing towards Alex—only an exaggeration—who fucking  saw and witnessed his embarrassment.

Monty instantly shifted his gaze outside the window as if he didn’t notice the twink. Heart drumming impossibly fast, he waited if he’d hear his name coming off this boy’s lips; fingers restlessly tapping against the plastic-made bus seats. Waiting.

Alex looked back outside. Okay. Monty’s okay. He was ignored—

“Monty.”

Like a dog whose name was being called by his master for a treat, Monty instantly turned. “H-hey! ALEX! Buddy!” He faked a smile, well that cool unfazed smile when his lips wanted to just stretch up to his ears in a joyful way. Calm down, Monty. He’s just Alex.

But his godforsaken body moved towards Alex, offering a hand for a high five which the other responded to, finally not embarrassing him. Then Monty simply took the seat beside Alex when he wasn’t offered to . . .  A point of no return.

‘Act normal, buddy!’ Monty scolded himself, mentally.

“You uh, changed your hair,” he quietly said, without looking at the other. Alex’s signature bleached hair was changed to light brown and it had grown. But Monty thought he’s gonna miss that unique bleached hair of his. Something he could recognize easily from the crowds, even a mile away. 

“Yeah,” was Alex’s short reply.

“Why?”

“I . . . want to? I don’t know.”

This time Monty turned. “Honestly, why?” He’s convinced it was something about what he said about his bleached hair being so gay.

Alex refused to look at him. “Does everything need to have a reason? Can’t someone just do something just because that’s what they want?”

Again, Alex Standall who always had  a valid point. Monty shrugged and leaned back to his seat, only realizing how close he was as their shoulders brushed against each other. But no one planned to move as if they liked to stay like this for a while.

* * *

So, it’s just the first day of school and things were already getting complicated, to Monty at least. Charlie came out as bisexual, announcing it in front of their friends, and declaring his big crush on Alex Standall. Of all people. 

Miraculously, Bryce, Luke, Diego, Scott, well practically everyone in the group were supportive. And they even waited for Alex to show up in their old rendezvous under the tree.

Monty didn’t know how to take all this. How??? Would they be this accepting and supportive if he told them his little—yes, it’s only little—crush on Alex?

“The big question is if Alex also swings that way,” Bryce said.

“I don’t really care if he doesn't, and rejects me, I just wanna let him know how I feel, y’know like take this off my chest and probably move on,” explained Charlie as if saying all these things were too easy. How could it seem too easy for him? Monty tried to mentally list down possible reasons as to why whatever Charlie was thinking and doing wasn’t a big of a deal! And he made it sound too normal. In Monty’s case, he would probably be dead once his old man learned about what he might be; a blurry image at the back of his head, a terrifying thing to entertain. Accepting whatever feelings he had for Alex had been hard even at this moment, but as someone who’s not a fan of analyzing things—well Alex made him analyze a lot of things—he learned to just fuck it and go with the flow and accept whatever this shit was. Minus the confessing part like what Charlie was doing. On the other hand, that didn’t make Monty gay. He’s not gay. And like he kept telling himself, Alex looked like a girl. That’s it.

Yet there was this new fear swelling at the pit of his stomach that Alex, ten to one, would go to Charlie. And this was when Monty hated that he always had his guts right. He wished to be wrong this time.

ALEX.

NO FUCKING WAY!

Jessica had this big smile on her face when she broke the news to him she heard from Justin that Charlie had a huge crush on him. Jessica emphasized the word huge.

“Is Charlie . . . gay?” Alex asked, confused and surprised.

“Probably. I mean he likes you, pretty boy,” Jessica nudged him flirtatiously.

Alex made a face. “And you believed Justin?” 

“Yeah, he told me he heard Charlie clearly with his two ears!”

In fact, Alex didn’t know what he should feel with this new information. And why? Why would Charlie like him? How? And when? Had he missed the hints?

First, Monty. He still doubted that Monty liked him, however that doubt was mixed with a bit of certainty; he remembered what Justin revealed back at Summer Camp, and Monty’s strange gestures last Summer. However, looking at Monty and the word gay was still hard for Alex to connect. And then now, there’s Charlie. Alex was only learning today that he could be a gay magnet. And why was it always Justin who leaked those stuff out? Could Justin be gay as well?

Alex ended up spending half of his first day being a Sophomore thinking about Charlie having a crush on him that he had to hurriedly take the opposite direction when he saw the guy a mile away heading the same direction as him! He never bothered noticing Charlie yet now . . . why was this affecting him so much? Why was he letting it affect him so much?

He turned the corner, deciding to take the longer route to the registrar to ask for his schedule since he misplaced the one he asked earlier this morning. Great! That’s what happens when you keep thinking about stuff that doesn’t matter.

Clay and Hannah were at the registrar when Alex arrived. They instantly let their hands go and acted as if nothing, but Alex saw everything. So, Monty was right, there’s something going on. 

“So, I’ll see you around,” Clay told Hannah who smiled gently and gave him that little wave. Alex was observing both their actions. Clay obviously didn’t want to leave but he thought he had to for whatever reason. Were they keeping it a secret? 

“So, you and Clay, huh?” Alex muttered before asking the registrar for his schedule.

“Name?” the woman behind the counter asked. Alex gave her his name.

“What’s with the new haircut?” Hannah said like in an attempt to change the subject. “I like it.”

“Thanks,” he said. “So when did you and Clay become a thing?”

“Mr. Standall, here’s your schedule,” the registrar appeared with a little paper in hand. “Just sign here in case you’re pretending to be,” she paused to read his name, “ Alexander Dean Standall.”

Alex raised his brows, “Right,” and signed on the record book. Then took his schedule. “Thanks.”

“So what’s your next subject?” Hannah asked.

Alex decided to drop asking about her and Clay as she obviously didn’t want to talk about it yet. Though, he wondered if Jessica knew.

“Biology, unfortunately,” he replied. 

“So, I’m hearing news,” she finally opened up as they absentmindedly made their way to the cafeteria.

“Me too,” he said.

“Really? Then I presume you already know about you and Charlie.”

“No, I heard things about you and Clay,” he stopped and turned to her momentarily. How could she slide the rumors about him and Charlie then avoid the topic about her and Clay.

“Alexander Dean, please. Clay and I are just . . .  an unsure thing. That’s all I can say for now.”

“But you like him. And he likes you.”

“Mmm . . . Yeah, that’s what I know. What we know.”

Shit! 

Alex felt his insides turning, catching sight of Bryce’s group with Charlie . . . and Monty.

He looked straight ahead, pretending not to see them.

“Alex! Buddy!” Bryce waved, and everyone turned to his direction.

Oh no!

Alex had no plans to join them, good thing he’s with Hannah . . . who was suddenly gone.

As he turned, she was already walking distances away. Did she just—

Oh great! Just great!

He mentally rolled his eyes in defeat as he just helplessly collided with Bryce and his gang. But Alex, still mindful of Charlie, made sure not to get near him and went to Monty; it was an unconscious decision as if his body knew where it felt safest with, and unfortunately it was the moron. 

However, Luke pushed Charlie towards him and Alex had no choice but to just let things be.

Charlie gave an awkward wave, “H-hi,” which Alex answered with a little smile. 

Then slowly everyone left them alone.

*  *  *

“I hope you don’t mind eating alone with me,” Charlie said as they finally got to the cafeteria, seated on a table with their food.

“N-no, not at all,” Alex half-lied.

“I know you must’ve heard the rumors already a-about me liking you.” Charlie fought all his fear to look at his crush.

Alex didn’t answer. He still didn’t know what to say about it. 

Charlie went on, “Well, it’s true. I like you. I-it was hard for me, this decision to come out as bisexual especially we both know the toxic masculinity being in Bryce’s group. But I thought if I let this fear always win, then I’ll keep hiding forever. Should they kick me out then so be it. They’re not the people I need.  But what happened was the opposite. I didn’t expect the support I got from them.” He paused, realizing he had thrown too much information. “Okay, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m saying these things.”

“It’s okay,” Alex said. “I mean it’s brave of you to come out. It’s not always an easy thing.” For some reason, Monty came to his mind. “Coming out is not an option for some. It was a struggle for many. So I thought you made the right decision for yourself. Besides, at the end of the day, it’s important that we do things that are good for us.”

Charlie had this big smile on his face. “Thanks for saying that, Alex. You never know how important it is for me to hear those words from you.”

Alex looked at Charlie and thought he’s a good person. He never really knew Charlie, he just thought he’s nice with some rough edges but it all changed at this moment. He seemed kind. No wonder the jocks were so fond of him despite his declaration of his sexuality, it was his personality that they loved about him. He wondered if Charlie was aware of it though?

“I just want to ask if you’re free later? I mean I don’t want to miss this chance and regret things but if you don’t—”

“Okay, sure,” Alex surprised himself by how quick he answered, “Let’s hang out later.”

Light literally shone on Charlie’s face. “Great.”

xxiv. (not) so complicated.

MONTY.

“Did you know?” Justin spoke behind Monty while typing on his phone his first English essay of the week, which he would write on pad tomorrow. They’re back at Bryce’s pool house lying back to back on a duvet-covered mattress. 

Meanwhile, Monty just stared into nothingness, waiting for sleep to arrive, tortured with thoughts of Alex, and now with the addition of Charlie. “What?” he said, hoping talking with Justin, which he had no plan on doing, would help to distract.

“Charlie asked Alex out,” Justin said.

Why the hell did I bother? As if he didn’t know about it. Monty knew talking with Justin would be a bad idea. He just made his spiraling worse.

Monty tightened his grip on the pillow as if for comfort. “So what?” 

“I think it’s time you ask Alex out.”

“What?” Monty scoffed defensively “Why would I do that?” Besides, he’s already with Charlie.

“You like him, right? Alex?”

How did—How the fuck did Justin know?

Monty scoffed again to hide the discomfort that’s been gnawing inside him. “No. I’m not . . . gay. Charlie’s gay.”

“Bisexual, Monty. Charlie is bisexual.”

“What’s the difference?”

“He swings both ways.” Justin then laughed.

Monty stayed silent. 

It was quiet then, except for the obnoxious sound of Justin’s keypads. Normally, the noise would irritate the fuck out of Monty, yet tonight, it brought peace within him. Then it stopped. 

“You awake, bud?” Justin asked in a low voice.

Monty pondered whether to pretend to be asleep. But what Justin suggested earlier had him thinking. As much as Monty didn’t trust Justin’s opinion most of the time, he needed a friend tonight.

“How the fuck do you think I am going to fall asleep when you’re typing in freakin’ high volume?” countered Monty.

“Oh sorry about that,” Justin sounded apologetic, he switched his phone to silent mode.

“You were saying?” Monty asked.

“Oh, right. About the Alex and Charlie thing going around. Are you sure your not-gay-ass isn't affected?”

“The fuck with your questions?” Monty turned to Justin this time who’s already facing him.

“I know how you feel about Alex. You told me before and I’ve seen it back at Summer camp. I’m not stupid, Monty.”

“I say, you’re reading too much about it, whatever you saw back at Summer camp  . . . is all just your delusions.”

“Delu—Mon-tay! I have seen enough,” Justin laughed and his behavior was starting to make Monty nervous. He seemed to really know something. Or Justin could just be bluffing.

“Here.”

A phone was shoved in front of Monty’s face. It took a while for Monty to register what’s going on until he’s staring at an image of him sleeping and snuggling on a sleeping Alex Standall back at Summer camp.

Justin was quick to evade and pull his phone away before Monty could snatch it.

“DELETE THAT, JUSTIN!” Monty chased after the culprit, running around the little pool house.

“NOT HAPPENING!” 

“I SWEAR—”

“WHY WOULD I DELETE SUCH A BEAUTIFUL IMAGE!”

“FUCK YOU, FOLEY!”

* * *

Monty was throwing daggers at Justin’s way the next day, and the asshat was good at ignoring him. Monty made it his goal to get his phone to delete that photo. He'd be dead if someone saw that.

“Eyy, loverboy!” Justin gave Charlie a friendly pat as soon as the boy arrived with this gleeful aura. “So I heard you and Alex went out yesterday.”

A tug in Monty’s chest. He watched and listened silently by the side as the others poked in to hear the latest news.

Long story short: Alex Standall was going out with Charlie St. George.

So, it didn’t just happen in the movies where everything around you seemed to crumble down, and then nothing. Monty just stood there. Lost and confused. He didn’t know where to start, what to do. How to feel. How to react. It took him several minutes, immobile. 

And for the first time, he found himself running away. 

ALEX.

Monty was gone for two days. Alex admitted that it somewhat worried him having this little idea that the guy was experiencing domestic abuse. He might have wanted to ask Charlie about it but he couldn’t. He didn’t know how to explain it, as if something was stopping him. Was it fear? But of what?

So he tried brushing it off by convincing himself that Monty was okay and that he’s old enough to take care of himself. He knew Monty enough that he’d go back.

And the moron did.

He showed up with this new energy that Friday. Greeting everyone with a high five but then passing by him like he didn’t exist.

Something’s certainly not right.

But Alex brushed it off again, trying to not let it affect him, when it was, if he’s going to be honest, affecting him. Thankfully, Charlie’s company was nice. He’s such a sweet fellow. Although Alex was still unsure of how he felt about him, Charlie gave him the assurance that they could be open about it, which made it easier for Alex to be truthful about his sexuality. 

And since they began going out, they frequently go to the cafeteria with just the two of them, thanks to the support his jock friends gave them.

“I don’t know but . . . ” Alex took a sip of his plain yogurt, “going out with a guy doesn’t feel wrong to me, like I can see myself being with a—a guy eventually.”

I hope I’m that guy, Charlie thought. He didn’t want to force himself to Alex even if the thought of losing him later on scared him. 

“When did you start to realize that?” Charlie asked.

Alex didn’t even have to think about it, but then that night Monty kissed him flashed through his head—the kiss he was supposed to forget. He felt a stir inside his body. He tried to flush it down by finishing his remaining yogurt.

“Dunno. I just . . .” Alex shrugged and glanced at Charlie, eager to drop the topic down, “did.”

* * *

Alex should’ve acknowledged the signs that there’s something wrong with Monty. It’s not like the guy did anything right. He was walking down the hallways to his locker when he crossed paths with Monty, rather, crashed onto. Sure, students were everywhere but there’s enough space for Monty not to ram onto him causing the books in his arms to fall. 

“Oops, sorry, Standall!” But the smirk on Monty’s didn’t look sorry at all. Alex began picking his books. And Monty just stood there, reminding Alex of a jerk that he was. “Er . . . I guess you can ask St. George to help you with that since I’m late for my Football practice.” Monty patted his shoulder and ran away.

What the fuck? Are they back to square one? Alex thought things were finally starting to go well with them, but Monty was always—he’s even an expert—making things hard and complicated; all because of his refusal to acknowledge the probability of whatever the hell was going on between them. Alex wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t nothing, those stuff they did; those times they had spent together, particularly that one Summer night But seeing how Monty behaved . . . it infuriated Alex because he wished he knew what’s going on inside Monty’s head. 

xxv. don’t belong here.

MONTY.

Heh. So they’ll just do what? Go and date here?

Monty had this displeased smirk as he watched from the counter, Alex and Charlie entering Monet’s. He absentmindedly wiped the area clean from crumbs and various liquids from making coffee. With a grim expression, he dumped the dirty cloth hard to the sink and marched inside the stockroom to get some air. Don’t be a pussy! His dad’s insulting words echoed in his head. I’m not a fuckin’ pussy. Monty then went out back, wanting to prove his dad wrong. He’s not a pussy! Yet the moment he saw the two sat at a table facing each other with smiles on their faces . . . his hands balled into fists. Stop looking. The cash register machine suddenly looked interesting to him. But the image of Alex and Charlie together tattooed at the back of his brain. 

Fuck. 

He couldn’t stand them and he didn’t think he could ever. An unexplainable weight inside his chest evoked whenever he spotted the two. For some reason, he felt betrayed, like he’d been stabbed. He thought Alex was aware of his feelings. ‘You sure about that? You never told him how you felt?’ Monty argued with himself. ‘Well, I had sent that text that I like him, right? So he knew . . .’ ‘But you were high that time, Monty. And you kept denying it to his face . . .’ ‘Couldn’t he read the signs?’ ‘What signs? You’re not throwing any signs—’

“Hey, Monty,” Charlie’s voice pulled Monty out of his trance and found his friend—couldn’t call Charlie that now—already standing by the counter. 

Monty looked sideways, hoping to hide the resentment plastered on his face. He wore the fakest genuine smile he could manage.

“Ahoy, my friend!” And that’s it. He didn’t know what to say next.

“Hey,” Charlie greeted again. And it was literally dead air. 

What’s this?

Was he too obvious? Did Charlie find out how he felt for Alex and was guilty? Or maybe he’s holding some grudges towards him?

“Uh . . . Alex told me he wanted the latest Frappe here,” Charlie said, breaking the awkward silence. “And as you see, I rarely go here so I don’t really know. Could you help me?”

Oh, so Charlie’s only having a little problem. Not because he had noticed anything—never mind. 

That relieved Monty somehow. 

He glanced at Alex and had the craziest idea.

“No worries, my friend! You asked the right guy,” Monty leaned, reaching to tap Charlie on his arm with a wink. And Charlie looked overjoyed. Always the simple-minded jock nerd.

“So does Alex frequent here?” Charlie whispered the question.

Monty decided to lie about it knowing this was Alex's favorite place. “No. What’s your drink by the way?”

Charlie then decided on a Latte Macchiato with two Penne pastas and two rainbow cake slices. Seriously? Okay. Someone’s on a feast.

He then punched the Strawberry Cheesecake thingy for Alex’s order as the latest Frappe on the menu when it wasn’t what he planned to give at all, and then the Macchiato that Charlie ordered.

“Got it. Wait for your name to be called,” Monty then bid Charlie goodbye after the payment and began preparing their order. Mischief plastered on his face knowing what to do with Alex’s drink.

And he began working, making it as bad as possible: Strawberry, caramel, with three shots of espresso and whipped cream. Added some random ingredients and popped a cinnamon powder on top of the whipped cream aside from chocolate syrup. 

Monty tasted the excess, made a sour face of how sweet it was, it’s almost cringey. Perfect! Monty wore this victorious smile as he stared at his self-made coffee, proud of his craft. Then he did Charlie’s order, making it bland. 

“Charlie St. George!” Monty called to Charlie, serving the two drinks and their food on a tray. His eyes landed on Alex who looked in his direction after hearing the name of his ‘date’ being called. A pang hit Monty’s chest. He tried to flush it down and continued wearing the fake smile he hoped didn’t look fake at all.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you, Monty,” Charlie said with utmost sincerity, making Monty suddenly remorseful for what he just did.

“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy,” said Monty absentmindedly.

ALEX.

Worst. Coffee. Ever. 

He stared at the drink served to him carefully. “What drink is this?” he asked Charlie.

“Why? Is something wrong?” Worried painted across Charlie’s face. He wanted this to be perfect. He wanted the times he spent with Alex to be great. So any small inconvenience like this worried him easily. He’s normally a chill person or an easy-go-lucky guy as his friends told him . . . except with Alex, whose eyebrows were meeting at the center which screamed trouble. Charlie tried to pretend to be calm when his insides were in havoc.

“Yeah. I mean everything about this drink is wrong,” said Alex with the grimace still on his face.

“Can I?” Charlie gestured in an attempt to taste his drink which Alex handed to him. He inwardly swallowed knowing Alex drank from it so it seemed they’d be going for an indirect kiss. He took a sip and immediately put the glass down. Well, this wasn’t what he wanted their first kiss to be like, should it happen. 

“I told you,” Alex said, seeing how Charlie reacted.

“It . . . I think I’m drinking poison!” exclaimed Charlie. 

A chuckle escaped Alex’s lips. “Right. Poison. A way to describe it. I wonder what Monty had served us.” He looked at the counter where Monty stood and the idiot avoided his gaze. “How’s your drink, Charlie?”

“It’s fine. A li’l bland.”

* * *

[What’s ur problem?]

Alex sent the text message to <this guy is annoying> and Monty did annoy the hell out of him. He knew he had something to do with the coffee. How badly Alex wanted to file a complaint against him and tell him to his manager but he thought it might cost him his job. ‘It’s his fault!’ Yet Alex couldn’t do such a thing. Damn! Why the hell was he concerned about Monty? ‘He only got himself to blame why he lost his job.’

Alex waited but the moron didn’t reply. Before he knew it it’s close to midnight and he waited to drift off to dreamland but he couldn’t. His thoughts filled with the annoying guy at Monet’s, cutting into pieces what he could have done this time as to why Monty was being shitty again. What he did earlier, sabotaging his drink was way down the line. Although he didn’t tell Charlie that Monty  might have done it on purpose. But why would he do such a thing? He’s not jealous . . . is he? 

Warmth filled Alex’s cheeks by the thought that Monty might be . . . jealous, keeping him up all night. It surprised him that he still had the energy to go to school and even show up at the Football tryout the next day. 

For whatever reason, Charlie had this good convincing power to make him try the burly sport. Yet the moment Alex stepped foot inside the boys’ locker room, he instantly wanted to flee. Every guy was buff, except him. And their muscles kind of sent this insecurity and embarrassment for Alex to take his clothes off and change. 

“Hey, Alex!” Charlie appeared, beaming. Alex felt relieved seeing a familiar face until he caught sight of Monty entering after Charlie. The jerk ignored him as Alex had guessed and ran to where Diego was.

“Hey,” greeted Alex back. “I don’t think I belong here.”

“Why would you think that?” Charlie placed a hand on his shoulder as if checking him. “This is your chance to prove your dad wrong.”

“I dunno if I can do this.” Alex turned away. He’s beginning to regret oversharing his daddy issues to Charlie yesterday at Monet’s. 

“You—okay, just try, alright? And if you didn’t make it, at least you could tell yourself that you tried,” Charlie’s voice began to fade off of Alex’s ears as he stood frozen in his place catching Monty taking his shirt off. It’s just a guy going naked yet . . . he kept watching. His eyes traveled down to Monty’s toned torso which sent a sudden dryness to his throat.

Charlie’s gentle nudge brought Alex back to reality and he quickly looked away, completely convinced, after what he just witnessed, that he didn’t belong here.

xxvi. color you in.

ALEX.

It was like one of those high school chic flicks where the girl fell and the boy landed on top of her, with their faces too close, they’re almost breathing to each other. And Monty was on top of him. They just gazed at each other, lost for breath, not moving an inch. The gold flecks in Monty’s brown eyes spread like galaxies, and Alex caught himself getting lost in it. Not to mention that the weight of his body and the heat of his skin consumed him . . . in a terrifyingly good way.

He didn’t know how long they were in this position, and the world seemed to stop and turned silent around them.

“You . . .” Monty finally pulled his body up, coldness burnt on the space where his warmth once was. “You alright?” he continued, sticking a hand out for him to take.

Blinking, Alex stared at him, then to his hand, tentatively taking it to stand. “I–ugh–FUCK!” 

An excruciating pain shot him; crawling up his thighs. It’s killing him! Monty quickly yet carefully caught his shoulders, leveling their gazes.

“Wh-you okay?” he asked softly, when his face was telling otherwise, as if trying to control the rising tension through the tone of his voice. And it helped bring comfort, lessening the pain gripping his leg. Alex wanted to hear them again.

But that feeling quickly changed back to panic as he attempted taking a step. “I—I can’t move my legs!” Alex looked at Monty with fear in his eyes. “I can’t walk!”

“What happened?” Charlie appeared next to him, worried also heavy in his voice.

“I can’t fucking walk,” explained Alex, glancing at his helpless leg. 

“Here! Get on my back,” Monty turned around, offering his broad back to him, “let’s get you to the hospital,” when Charlie stopped him.

“Wait. We better call an ambulance and put him on a stretcher. That would be safer.”

“And what? He’s just gonna stand here?” Argued Monty, throwing a hand over his leg, as he looked around. They’re in the middle of the football field and all attention was on them. 

Then Alex overheard some boys saying, “It seems a love triangle is aboutta brew.” “Charlie, Alex and Monty.” “Alex’s prince charmings, heh.”

Great, they have time to give this a meaning and create an issue for their own entertainment. It didn’t help that Alex was standing between Monty and Charlie, who seemed to suddenly engage in a staring contest.

“Boys! What is going on?” Couch Kerba finally came to the rescue. Charlie and Monty explained, much to Alex’s embarrassment, how he couldn’t walk! Why did he have to have such weak bones?!

”I guess football isn’t for everyone,” commented Coach Kerba. Something Alex didn’t have to hear. He already knew.

“Monty, guide Alex to the bench. Can you do that, Alex?”

“I-I guess,” Alex answered, unsure.

Monty offered his shoulders for Alex to wrap his arms onto. 

“Can you take a step?” Monty turned to look at him. And his face, their faces were too close . . . again. 

Alex evaded his gaze, throat bopping as he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. He nodded, his chest drumming wild and hard. He’s afraid Monty could hear it loud and clear. But if he ever did, he showed no signs.

“Okay, on the count of one,” Monty said, patiently.

Alex tried taking a step, which was easier with the guidance of Monty.

“Good,” Monty said. And his voice. It’s not helping that he’s using that soft voice again. But Alex tried to ignore it all and focus on his footing. However, paying attention to his leg only worsened the pain, so he had to distract himself, which happened to not be difficult at all. With every step he took, his body would brush against Monty’s. Sending another feeling aside from the pain. 

MONTY.

He couldn’t stop himself. And it’s terrifying him. And Charlie saying those, these chaos inside him, expressing them out loud, while they waited for Alex outside the Emergency Room, only prove whatever this was, real. 

“I want to protect him, Monty. I want to protect Alex.”

‘Me too.’ Monty wanted to say. But instead what came out of his mouth was the question, “Why?” even if the answer was clear.

Coward, he told himself.

“I think . . . I love him,” Charlie muttered. “Well, I dunno if . . . but,” he turned to Monty and said deliberately, “I like him too much. And I don’t know what I’d do with all these feelings I have for him. It can,” he paused and let out a chuckle, “It can sometimes be too overwhelming. Know what I mean?” And then he crouched his back down staring into his clasp hands resting on his thighs. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Monty pressed his lips, squirming slightly on his seat. He cleared his throat, and said, “Oh yeah?”

As if catching the mood, Charlie apologized. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bore you with all my feelings. I know I sound corny right now.”

But unfortunately, it wasn’t the case. Monty didn’t find any of it corny at all. Worse, he understood Charlie. And it scared him. What if he couldn’t keep himself from wanting to protect Alex. That’s why when he saw the football flying over, hurling at Alex, he felt the need to push and shield him. 

However, he only hurt those people he wanted to protect. See, where it led Alex. Maybe if he didn’t—

Alex appeared from the Emergency Room, a cast on his injured leg and crutches. Monty felt his heart drop, yet he didn’t know where he got the strength to stand.

Unable to look at him, all he could say was, “I’m sorry . . . If I hadn’t tackled you down—”

“I guess this was all my fault,” Charlie suddenly spoke, cutting him off. “I convinced you to try out.”

“Hey, this isn’t some kind of contest whose fault—damn,” Alex winced. And took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie continued. And Monty didn’t feel any different.

“No. It’s okay.” Alex managed a smile to lighten up the mood. “If it helps, I didn’t regret any of this. I mean, ’tis all part of the game, right? If I had to turn back time, I’m still going to try again.”

That made Monty smile, out of relief. 

“Right. It’s all part of the game,” Charlie repeated as if convincing himself.

“Wait, till my dad sees this,” Alex mumbled, almost proudly.

Monty remembered that night Alex talked about his dad as they got wasted in his Jeep in front of the famous Golden Gate Bridge. A memorable night. 

But how fast it all changed. Charlie now had his hands assisting Alex as they made their way out of the hospital, which Alex refused at first and told him he’s fine. But Charlie, always persistent Charlie, wouldn’t let him. And Monty felt like a helpless chaperone walking silently behind, leading them to his Jeep. 

Alex hopped in the passenger’s seat while Charlie took the back seat. Monty may have taken his chance to help Alex hop in and that was enough.

The drive to Alex’s home was silent, except for Charlie dropping words of comfort to Alex every now and then, and offering his help should Alex need it.

Monty would grip on the wheel hard, trying to focus back on the road instead of listening to them, until Alex broke his disruptive silence.

“Thanks, Monty,” he said.

“For what?” His tone came a little harsher. “I only caused you . . .” he stopped and glanced at his cast to get his point across. Then back on the road.

“It could have been worse,” Alex shrugged. Silence surrounded them for a moment and then he went on, “Just thank you. You and Charlie. I didn’t expect to see you guys outside the ER.”

“That's all we could do,” Monty muttered.

“Yeah,” Charlie seconded.

“Still. I thought I’d leave the ER alone.”

Monty smiled to himself. Warmth over Alex’s appreciative words. If I could only do more.

Ten minutes later they finally arrived at Standall’s place. Monty was about to step down when Alex told them not to bother but of course, Charlie was too stubborn to let him have his own way.

That’s how you do it, Monty. He mulled over to himself as he watched Charlie guide Alex to the front door. He couldn’t do any of that . . . without feeling scared. Maybe Charlie was good for Alex. While he . . . he's good for nothing. You’re good for nothing, Monty. He thought bitterly.

The two talk shortly before Alex glanced his way and gave him a wave of thanks,  and Monty replied with a nod. 

And you are too good for me, Alex.

—  end of PART VI —