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If I were asked to restart my life from scratch, I could never say no. I would never say no. I have my "coulds" and "woulds" that are extremely separate.
My "coulds" are simple: I grew up lucky, with a successful and well liked father, who is a scientist, as far as I've been told. I had a gifted brain that could craft up any machine I desired in just a few weeks of staying up and a lot of coffee. I was considered one of the top students in the boarding school I've attended for several years. I even, in the future, saved the world with three strangers, who became long distanced, yet close friends. My life is something many people wish and hope for.
Yet, I don't.
Besides one thing.
My friends are extremely important to me. They're people that I am grateful to have, and I could never trade them for any other.
And there's one of them that's my single "would."
My bestest friend of all.
Tony.
I met Tony two weeks before my seventh year in school. I remember all of it like it was still last week. He stumbled in with two backpacks, opening the door as wide as it can go, as he clumsily fell on the bed that was next to, but not beside mine. He had hung a fedora across his shoulder with some rope, both backpacks were oak brown, and he definitely had less freckles than current day. Overall, he looked like a wreck, which didn't stop me from taking a peek above the book about reusing rundown rockets.
He must've been exhausted, since it took him a minute to get his head up. As he steadily balanced himself, he noticed me on the only seating area in the room: the couch.
"Oh. Sorry. Should've gotten up quicker. I forgot there was a system of roommates here. It must have slipped my mind."
"..."
His hair was really messy. He needs a hair comb.
"Hello? You're looking at me, so I assume you can hear too."
He placed his two bags down, as he talked.
"Did I get a scratch somewhere on the uniform, or somethin'? Those crows are quite mad here. Got pecked by one last time I came around."
"Your hat."
He blinked, twice.
"So you can talk! I thought you were mute."
"I can breathe, eat, sleep, read."
"You 'a bookworm?"
"You can say that."
"I like books."
"Everyone does."
As if his brain began to start running again, he remembered his hat. He lifted the rope, put on the hat, and placed the rope in the drawer.
"Just in case we need one. I heard the experiments go mad here, and we might need to tighten up… bags, or somethin'," he claimed.
"Hm. You're… not wrong."
Clearing his throat, he turned back to me.
"So, what's your name?"
"Jeff," I replied.
"Jeff. Nice to meet you. I'm Tony."
He extended his hand out. For a handshake, obviously.
My hand met his.
"Pleasure to meet you too."
But there was no shake.
Just holding hands.
It was weirdly comforting.
-
He grew accustomed to the school. He enjoyed the lunches, as moderate as they were, lived off of B's, and memorized his teachers' names and rooms well. Tony wasn't super popular, but I was in the same shoes.
My popularity, the little I had, was only due to my father, which was known around here.
So it was no surprise that he would ask about it at one point.
But, rather quickly, he knew what was up.
"Jeff? Is Dr. Andonuts… not the greatest of a father?"
I didn't really think someone could understand me that quickly.
He found out about my invention-making-obsession, but that was due to me staying up for long, late hours. Of course he would've found that out.
He found out about my schedule and memorized it, but that was because we were roommates, and I told him it.
And even with all of that small information, he just understood me.
Maybe we could be good friends.
-
It had been a few months since he arrived. Not much has changed, yet a lot has.
He's started to sit by me at lunch. Originally, he sat outside in the snow. He likes the cold. I don't really, despite how long I've stayed here, so I sit indoors. Even with me knowing about his love for the cold, he insisted on sitting by me.
That made me happy.
Not only that, but we've begun to work on projects together, at least in classes we shared. If we were apart, we would just help each other outside of class. A pinky promise held the "we will choose the same classes next school year" sentence tight.
That made me happy, too.
Even my sleep schedule got better, as he worried that I'd fall ill if I kept going with my late hours.
I think Tony's a good friend.
He's someone I can trust.
-
With someone by my side, Year seven went by quite fast. Summer didn't die down the cold. I thought it was permanent. Tony thought it was just a "one-in-four-years" kind of situation. We never argued about that.
We took many opportunities to sneak out of the school, though not going too far. We tested out many of my machines. Most of them worked. Some didn't.
He felt like my audience, one that was always ecstatic, no matter the outcome. He was never a science person, but was always up to seeing my inventions, even if they didn't even turn on. It was like a lab partner, who did nothing, but keep my hopes up.
I was fine with that.
We snuck back in right before check-in, which was always an hour and a half after lights out. Faculty would look into our rooms, making sure nobody was staying up. I always just laid down on my bed, and went back to work on inventions after the faculty member left.
Now, it was different. Now, I have someone else.
And after check-in, after the seventh year, during the summer, it was the best time ever.
We would talk about our thoughts. Ones that would randomly come up in our mind. We would whisper and have discussions for what seemed like for years, which, in reality, was usually just an hour or two.
One specific discussion always stuck to me.
"Jeff, are you one who's into romance?"
I stared, then snickered.
"Why'd you suddenly think about that?"
He snickered back.
"I dunno. You never seemed like someone who's into that kind of stuff."
"Is it 'cause of how I look?" I joked.
He tried hard not to laugh.
"No, it was never about your looks. It's just of… how closed off you are."
"Maybe I could be a romantic one. People from school just don't catch my interest."
He turned to look at me.
"Really, now?"
"Yes."
"You never even asked someone out?"
I shook my head.
"Nope."
"Well, I got someone to date me."
My eyes widened a bit. Not out of horror, just of shock. He never said anything about dating another student.
"When?"
"'Twas in March. Some guy I talked to for a while pecked me on the lips. We used to talk often, only a bit less when I moved to sit by you at lunch."
I gasped.
"Guy? You dated a boy?"
He snickered. Again.
"It's not illegal. If you can kiss a lady, then you can kiss a man, right?"
The people here weren't fans of that. That's for sure.
Though, like he said, it's not illegal.
"I never thought of it like that. The teachers aren't really fans of that kind of stuff."
"Oh, they don't like kissing at all anyways. They think it's gooey, and distracting," Tony giggled, "but it's really just nice."
"So, what happened to you both? Wouldn't you be talking to that guy currently?"
"No. We split. On good terms, though."
I sighed.
"Wouldn't you have told me a while ago about that? You haven't even told me who it is!"
"What? You jelly?"
I stared, with a loud gulp being heard from my throat.
"... Pffft! No- no! I'm not!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yea, yea. It's just, that, I'm your roommate, so I thought you would've… y'know… told me."
"Right. Mhm. So, what about you? You pecked someone before, then?"
I knew I was sweating heavily by this point.
"Goodnight, Tony," I turned away.
"G'night, Jeff."
-
I can't sleep.
I haven't slept.
Not after that.
It was a few days, I think, after that conversation.
I got to thinking.
That doesn't happen often.
My brain usually just gets an answer right away.
It was around midnight, for sure. We didn't sneak out that night. A summer project had me busy, and Tony insisted that I sleep early to balance out my sleep schedule.
I turned over on my bed to look his side of the room.
He was snoring. Loudly.
"Tony," I whispered.
"Psst, Tony," I said, slightly louder.
"Hm?"
"Don't 'hm' me. Can you- just- uh- turn back?"
He flipped over, now making eye contact with me.
"You… on Tuesday… you said that two guys can… y'know?"
"Oh, kiss, yes. What about that?"
I hadn't felt this nervous since never.
I gulped.
"Uhm… could I… maybe…"
"Jeff. Are you telling me you want to kiss me?"
Reading me like a book. Like always.
"It just got me thinking. More. I- I don't think I'm a homo, don't take it like that. I just haven't, well-"
"I think I get it. You never had your first kiss."
"Well, saying it like that, it's embarrassing."
"All right, then, come over here."
With another gulp down my throat, I slowly pulled my bed's blanket off of me, and got off my bed. A few creeks were heard from the bed, but it wasn't too loud to where the noise could've gone out the door.
My arms were shaking. Though, not that much, but Tony obviously realized.
"It's just a smooch, silly. We can just try, and you can go back to bed."
"But, I, just…"
He looked at me. At my messy bowl cut of a hair. At my jello arms. At my striped pajamas. Just for a minute.
"Jeff. Tell me. Because I want to know this before anything happens. Do you want to do this?"
It took me a bit, but I responded.
I downed one last gulp, let out a breath, and nodded.
"... yes. Yes, I do, Tony. I do want to try and kiss you."
He grinned.
"Okay, Jeff."
Before I moved forward, he reached into one of my pants' pockets.
My glasses.
He put them on me.
I could see his huge smile now.
"There. I thought it'd be better for this situation."
It was much better.
He let go, and sat there.
As best as my arms could, I placed them on his shoulders.
"If, for some reason, I'm not a good kisser, will you say so?-"
"Just kiss me already."
"Okay, okay, sorry."
I inched my face closer to his.
"You can do this, Jeff."
That's the last thing I heard from him, before I felt skin press.
I thought it was his lips.
It sounded like it was his lips.
It felt like it was his lips.
It was his lips.
We just stood there, with our faces touching.
My face was as red as a cherry.
I had no idea if I should close my eyes. I wasn't ever told the rules of kissing.
His were, so it must be more appropriate if I did, too.
So I closed them.
It lasted for just under a minute.
It felt fuzzy.
It felt out of this world.
It felt like it was right.
-
Year eight was a delight. Tony was in most of my classes by now, referring to the pinky promise, and I was so grateful he did. Most of our projects were easy to do now, as if we didn't finish it in class, we would simply work together after school, similar to last year.
He never changed where he sat for lunch since the day he decided to sit right by me. We exchanged ideas over subjects we liked. Though Tony wasn't the smartest bookmark placed in the book, as he said himself, he still enjoyed talking to me no matter what it was about.
I loved that about him.
Due to having more mutual classes, we would stay up doing homework together. At times, I'd do Tony's for him, but it was always just once a week. I never minded doing that, since it helped me with practice and memorization. I also just enjoyed doing things that I already knew how to do. I think he knew that.
We were inseparable.
Of course, I never forgot about that night in the summer. Tony likes to mention it at times when we're alone, which just resulted in my face getting as cherry as that night.
He knew that homosexuality wasn't viewed in the most positive light in our school, and how he knew I claimed that I wasn't gay.
He didn't have a problem with that at all. He understood.
"At times, people just want to give it a shot, to see who they really are. It works sometimes, and it doesn't other times."
Yet, I had that sinking feeling, every time he said that,
that maybe,
just maybe,
it worked.
-
Throughout the eighth year, Tony loved to talk about a particular subject: the dance.
Every year, for the people in the even grades, a gathering with music and food would be hosted in the gymnasium. I never went, as it wasn't an event I was particularly interested in. But Tony, well, he loved to talk about it.
He began planning what he'd wear since the beginning of the year, ever since it was announced. He even started guessing what food would be served there, what type of music, the amount of the people in our grade that would be there; he spoke about it like he was waiting for this dance his whole life.
At one point, I asked, "Why are you so worked up about it?"
"Oh, Jeff, I love talking to people. You know that."
"It's just a silly dance. Don't you already talk to people on a daily basis?"
"This is special. I get to look like a bev while doing that. Plus, I think I already know what I'm gonna wear."
I turned away from my homework that I was completing then, which resulted in me seeing Tony searching through a huge box.
"My mum sent me this. She heard about the dance and thought it would look good on me. It's even my size!"
Like it was his most precious item, he raised up a vest at me. It was baby blue. It even had square shaped buttons.
"I thought I could use the undershirt I already use for school underneath it. Do you like it?"
"... Woah."
I was pretty stunned. It matched him very well, like it was a color created just for him.
"What? You don't?"
"Oh, no, it's lovely. Suits you very well."
His face beamed. It quickly lifted his downed spirits.
"That's good. Don't wanna look all, y'know, out there. But still good."
He placed the vest back in the box, and moved it to the drawers of our cabinet.
"Say, Jeff. Do you have anything formal to wear?"
"No. I don't. I'm not going."
"Okay, just wonderin'."
Two weeks later, he said his mum got an extra suit by accident. It was olive green.
It was my size.
-
It was an hour before the dance. Tony was jittery throughout the day. Nervous. Not a wreck, but just worried. He kept folding his hands, cracking his knuckles, rocking his assigned chair. It was very obvious to me, and got me worried too.
Tony isn't one who gets like this for social events. Presentations were a breeze because of him, as his mouth was one that kept on talking, which was more of a charm than a curse. He always treated others with great kindness, and had a heart made of gold. Nobody disliked him, despite his low popularity. Everyone knew he was an energetic one. So this was out of character.
As he finished putting on his suit, I decided to talk to him about it.
"Tony. Is everything alright?"
"Oh, yes, yes, everything's swell."
"Are you sure? You keep toying with your nails."
"Of course I am. I'm all good and dandy."
I groaned.
"Tony, I know you've been anxious. You have been all day. Please tell me what's happening."
"Jeff, will you shout if I ask you something?"
"You know you can ask me anything, Tony."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
He didn't turn back to look at me, but I knew he could see me.
"Jeff. I want to go to the dance with you."
"What?"
And then. He turned to look at me.
"I want to go to the dance with you. As anything. As friends, as best friends, as…"
"As what, Tony?"
"... as boyfriends."
I blinked.
And blinked again.
"Really?"
"Really."
I didn't shout. I only stood there. My mouth couldn't come up with a response.
I felt split and torn between myself.
On one hand, I wanted to stay as friends. I wouldn't want to suffer through the glares of others, or be laughed at.
Yet, on the other hand, if we really did go as that…
"Boyfriends. Let's go as boyfriends, Tony."
A squeak came out of him.
"You mean it? Really?"
"Really."
He looked like he wasn't sure if he was dreaming.
"But what about the other people? Wouldn't they suspect if we held hands, or made lovey-dovey eyes at each other, or-"
"We go as boyfriends, Tony. If you want to go as two, then we will go as that."
And then, he looked like he could explode out of joy.
-
The gymnasium was, well, the gymnasium. It's what you expect it to look like at a school dance; bright lights, strong fruit punch, loud music, a crappy disco-floor; yet, it felt perfect for him.
Tony's eyes were lit up the minute we stepped in, hands intertwined, and bowties squeezed tight.
I thought it was just slightly lower than decent.
"Oh, Jeff, before we head in,"
Before I could even turn, Tony pulled out a hair comb.
"Just in case the fedora is taken off at one point. Just wanna look nice."
After a few brushes, and a readjusted hat, we stepped in and began to look around.
We first stopped at the food. Our smart decision of skipping lunch to eat here wasn't the best idea, but was serviceable. I served for the both of us, with Tony excitingly letting me know what he wanted to eat.
It only took five minutes before we both decided our stomachs were full.
As stereotypical as the dance was, it actually didn't take its chance to play loud pop rock, or any trending tunes. Ballroom was the last thing I was even expecting, despite how formal our school was. Tony thought it was pleasant, and wanted to give it a shot. He dragged my arm out to the dance floor, a total of ten minutes after we ate.
I was a bit reluctant. I wasn't much a dancer, and was actually very clumsy when it came to those situations. Tony seemed like a more experienced one in that case.
"Tony. You do know I'm not the most skilled when it comes to dancing."
"C'mon, just one dance. Trust me! I'll make sure you don't fall."
And, for the first time, I didn't ask him twice.
I decided to give it a shot.
For him.
-
Our first kiss, in reality, wasn't our only one.
After that summer, I kept on asking him to try one more time whenever I could at night. It would usually be twice, or thrice a month. And they were all as magical as the first.
Tony kept on teasing me, joking about me seriously liking it, thinking I was hetero ever since our romance conversation.
I don't usually second guess myself due to how great my knowledge is.
But I really started to think his joking was actually the reality of how I felt.
-
I held his hip.
He held my shoulder.
It felt comfortable setting ourselves up for the dance, like we were each a puzzle piece, who finally connected to the correct one.
His face was only inches apart from mine. I could see his brown eyes clearly, while he could see my green ones. His hands comfortably felt my strong suit, while I felt the edge of his vest.
Even our bowties matched.
It was cute.
And then, we began to sway. Classical dancing.
We rotated as our legs began to move. He held on tight to me, knowing I would grow nervous, which calmed me down. My glasses shined from the lamps above us. His fedora did too.
Some people looked. Some didn't.
Some people gasped. Some didn't.
And at this point, I didn't care.
I was with the one I wanted to be with, and he was with the one he wanted to be with.
We were a pair. We were two, in one.
I looked at him.
I gulped.
Like that day.
The day it started.
And he nodded.
He was sure.
He was absolutely sure that we should.
He let go of my shoulder, and now held onto my arms.
I let go of his hip, and held both of his shoulders.
I slowly moved my face closer, and he moved his.
I closed my eyes.
And then.
Suddenly.
Without me noticing.
-
Everything went crazy.
All the colors I saw started to mesh together.
The gasping turned into giggles.
He let go of my arms.
I didn't feel any skin touch.
I opened my eyes.
He wasn't him anymore.
This wasn't the one that I wanted to become two with.
"Tony?"
"Jeff."
"You're not him."
"I could've."
I let go, fast.
My heart felt like it was going to pop out any second.
"What did you do?"
"What do you mean 'what did I do?' This is the memory that you wanted."
"What?"
"This is what you really wanted to happen. But it didn't."
I froze.
I froze like I was in a block of ice.
"It did happen."
And, as if moving away didn't matter,
it held onto me.
It held my arms.
It snickered.
It had the biggest grin I've ever seen.
It even still had a comb in its pocket.
It only said after,
"You never really did that."
"You never said as boyfriends."
"You just said as best friends."
"Only as best friends. The bestest friends of all."
"Did you really mean that, Jeff?"
"Or were you just too scared of your goddamn father?"
-
I woke up.
I blinked twice.
I'm back at the lab.
It was past Year 9.
I was sure I was dreaming.
The end of the world was cancelled.
My world was cancelled.