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i.
Gelatin pushes random buttons on the controller, spamming the X and Y button one after another in hopes of getting some deadly combo. He thumbs the joystick, tongue peeking out from under his top lip to display the utter concentration he has on the TV screen. The PlayStation’s close to being unplugged from the TV with the way Firey’s foot unknowingly rests on the wire and slowly pulls it out; though, neither of the boys pay any mind. After all, this is a task of utmost focus—no time to think about stupid things like almost unplugged wires!
Firey leans closer to the screen, shifting to the edge of his seat. In a last-ditch effort to save his in-game character (who’s currently under ten points of health, while Gelatin’s character—an anime-style girl?—is in the lead at fifteen H.P.), Firey actually looks at the corner of his screen and presses the combo listed in methodical precision. A bead of sweat actually rolls down the nape of Firey’s neck, and onto the blade of his shoulder, just to get absorbed by his shirt.
Suddenly, a pop-up appears on the screen, accompanied by 8-bit letters that emblazon, “ Player 1 has won! ”
Firey hisses a quick “ yes ” under his breath. His dumb combo actually worked. Meanwhile, Gelatin slumps back into his seat on the couch, sighing heavily.
“Dude. You totally cheated, ‘cuz there’s genuinely no way you won. I had that in the bag, ” Gelatin wails, throwing the controller on the couch to place his now free hands on his face.
“Nuh uh! I won fair and square with the combos on the corner. If only you knew how to read…” Firey snickers, placing the controller next to Gelatin’s in a more delicate manner.
“Says you! Of course I know how to read, idiot. But, you never even made it past sixth grade, bro.” Gelatin scoffs. “Besides, this is, like, some low quality ‘90s fighting game from the back of GameStop. You prolly glitched the game out into thinkin’ you won.”
“So did not! And, ouch—I graduated middle school six years ago—same time as you.” Firey’s mouth opens in fake offense, so he flicks the back of Gelatin’s head to get back at him. Gelatin quickly retaliates by jumping onto Firey to tickle his stomach.
He gets a good few seconds of tickle (torture) time before Firey pushes him off, laughing uncontrollably. Gelatin comes back with a sock sharply poking Firey’s thigh, and Firey grabs at Gelatin’s hair. The controllers slip off the couch in their antics, snapping the duo back to reality. Firey sobers first, glancing at Gelatin with a completely straight face. Gelatin reciprocates with an equally stoic poker face, and they stare at each other like that for a while before erupting in giggles.
The laughter dies down after a while—a very long while, but it does eventually. Firey reaches down to grab the two controllers, which are fortunately not dented, and gives one to Gelatin. Firey sneakily takes the better controller, with the joystick that doesn’t drift at all, in preparation for the next match.
“Another round?” Firey asks, finger already situated on the B button.
“Yeah, sure.” Before Firey even clicks ‘play again’ , Gelatin adds, “I just have a question for you first.”
“Hmm? Better not be dumb though.”
Gelatin laughs. “Don’t worry, dude. This is completely serious and I will judge you based on your answer.” Gelatin smirks at Firey, dropping his controller in his lap to put his arm on the couch’s armrest.
“Bruh. Friends don’t judge each other, man!” Firey pouts, eyebrows furrowed and all. Gelatin’s eyes linger over Firey’s pout. He finds it laughable how silly his best friend’s acting right now. “Just say it already.” Firey adds after a moment of silence.
“I was gonna talk when you said that, anyway,” Gelatin rolls his eyes. “My question is: who would you date in our group if we were gay?”
“ This is your serious question? What the hell is this, bro?” Firey pauses, seemingly in intense thought. “But, not gonna lie, that’s kinda hard…” He closes the game, abandoning the thought of a next match in favor of answering the hypothetical as honestly as he can.
“I already know who I’d date, so…” Gelatin waves his hand in the air, elongating the ‘o’ sound in “so” .
“ How? ” Firey basically shrieks. “There’s just too many guys! I mean, there’s only really Coiny and you, but, still.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing, man! There’s only two other guys I know, making it super easy.”
Firey groans. “No, man, it’s not easy . Like, I gotta think ‘bout the pros and the cons.”
“‘Cuz, you’ve been my friend for longer. But I’ve known Coiny longer. Though, I guess I do hang out with you more, and you’re funnier. And Coiny doesn’t use deodorant that often. And you get me leftovers from your dad’s steakhouse, so, I guess you.” Firey deflates in his seat. “Okay, that was sorta easy. Who’d you pick?”
Gelatin smiles. “Thanks, bro. I’m flattered. But, either way, I’d pick you too.” He moves to the center seat to wrap an arm around Firey’s shoulders. “We’re like… soulmates, man. Only if we were gay, though.”
“Only if we were gay,” Firey places an arm around Gelatin’s shoulders, too, and then they’re locked in a sweet embrace. He turns to look at Gelatin with half-lidded eyes, beaming face unbelievably tender. Gelatin closes his eyes, smiling so bright his teeth look as if they glow.
They stay like that for a hot minute. Firey’s head droops down and leans on Gelatin’s shoulder, and Gelatin lets him. His shoulder’s not that bad as a pillow, Firey thinks.
“Wait.” Gelatin says abruptly, taking his hand off of Firey’s shoulder. Firey mourns the warmth for a quick second before coming back to his senses—no straight man enjoys being held by his other, straight, best friend. “What if we actually were gay?”
“Huh?” Firey says after a moment, just now processing Gelatin’s words.
“Not like that, bro. You’re dumb as hell.” Firey makes a ‘hmph’ sound at this. “I mean, like, gay chicken . The game. Where we pretend we’re gay, and whoever chickens out is the real gay dude.” Gelatin looks at Firey with a completely neutral expression, save for his eyes, which have a dangerous sparkle in them.
Firey looks at Gelatin. Like, really looks . Because, well, Gelatin seems like he thinks this is an actually good idea. Firey, for some reason he can’t put his finger on just yet, doesn’t think so. Gelatin cups Firey’s hands in his; it’s a variation of a trust me, bro, gesture. Firey can feel his resolve slowly dissipating.
“I don’t know…” he replies finally.
“No, no, no, dude, hear me out. It’s gonna be fun. Winner gets whatever they want from the loser—snacks, candy, games, stuff like that—for a whole week. You can, like, tell me to do whatever you want for a whole week if you win (which, you’re not gonna, but, it’s a what if ). You could make me pay for all your dates with Leafy and I wouldn’t be able to say no.” Gelatin seems desperate.
“Hey, isn’t that a violation of consent?” Firey says, finding no other reasons to say no.
“Bruh. It’s not like you’re gonna tell me to do anything weird .” Gelatin pauses. “I pinky swear I won’t do anything weird.” He holds out his pinky finger, which Firey obviously takes.
“Fine. And, by the way, I’m not even dating Leafy!”
“Well, of course you’re not… because from now on, and until one of us chickens out, you’re my boyfriend!” Gelatin childishly sticks his tongue out at Firey.
“Okay, okay, but that’s not even fair. We didn’t go over the rules yet. I say no kissing on the mouth, but everythin’ else’s fair game.” Firey puts his hands up in the air.
“Sure.” Gelatin high-fives Firey’s hands, ignoring his protest of “that wasn’t a high-five!" . “It’s game on, then.”
Gelatin kisses Firey’s cheek and leaves the dorm room. Firey’s left with only his gaping mouth and the forgotten PlayStation controllers. The game is so on.
ii.
Firey holds two boxes of cereal up to the light, weighing both options. Lucky Charms has marshmallows, but Corn Flakes are more fun to eat. It’s a hard decision, considering that breakfast is Firey’s favorite meal of the day. Well, every meal’s his favorite, but now he’s getting sidetracked thinking about the technicalities.
Firey glances back at the shopping list. Apples and trail mix, check. Beef jerky is an almost-check; he’ll get that near the register. Milk and eggs, well… the freezer’s at the back of the store, and Firey’s at the front. Couldn’t they go a week without milk and eggs? Firey doesn’t like scrambled eggs, and he can eat cereal dry, anyway. So, Firey’s basically done with the shopping this week.
His phone buzzes in his pocket. Firey drops both cereal boxes in the cart (the more the merrier—why waste time on a dumb dilemma when you can just get both?) to pull out his phone. It’s a reminder he’d set weeks earlier when he’d seen the flyers posted around the campus, and promptly forgot about right afterwards: Go to the Raspberry Festival. Obviously, that isn’t exactly how the reminder looks—no, there’s a few typographical errors, like, instead of ‘festival’, Firey wrote ‘fwstibal’. Sorry for having big fingers, Firey thinks. At least it’s semi-readable.
At first, Firey didn’t really recognize why he’d left that reminder there. Then, the cogs in his mind whir and something clicks together. Obviously, he’d wanted to go after class to eat the free slices of raspberry cake. But, his professor had already canceled class today; hence the reason why Firey’s out here shopping instead of taking notes in his architecture class. He supposes this can be an opportunity for him to get cake and annoy Gelatin, because the latter’s definitely going to the festival. It’s right after Gelatin’s class, and nearby too. Firey can get back at Gelatin for spontaneously kissing his cheek yesterday, and then walking out of the room afterwards. Because that’s just jerk behavior, gay chicken game or not.
Firey grins to himself. Maybe he should text Leafy, and then it’ll be like a whole ambush. He starts giggling quietly in the aisle at the thought, and the mother standing next to him gives him an odd look.
◦ ♂ ◦
Leafster
Today, 2:41 p.m.
Hihi leafyh wanna hang out w/ me at the raspbery festivsl
Sure, when r you going
Um rn
Ill be there in ten min? :)
Thanks leafyyyty
◦ ♂ ◦
In record time, Firey’s able to drop off the groceries back at his dorm and then rush to the festival before the lines get too long. Good thing, too, because even just twenty minutes after the opening of the raspberry cake booth, there’s already a chain of people that trail the border of the park.
Firey tugs sunglasses out of his bag and puts them on as he navigates to the caboose of the line. Sure, the sun’s not too hot, but rather be safe than sorry. Also, Gelatin’s supposed to be here—a fact Firey knows through his amazing sense of intuition—and he doesn’t want to ruin the surprise just yet. Leafy’s coming too, but it’s already 3:15 p.m. and she’s running late. Firey doesn’t worry, though. She insists he’s the one who’s always late, but it’s actually almost always Leafy who runs a bit behind schedule; meaning, it’s commonplace for her to do this.
About twelve minutes later, Firey’s almost at the booth when he sees Leafy walking to him. She’s wearing one of the Raspberry Festival tote bags and a chic raspberry themed claw clip, so Firey can tell Leafy did a bit of exploring before coming to him.
“Hey, Firey! I knew I’d find you at the cake line,” she says, beaming.
“Is that a dig at me, or what?” Firey smiles back.
“Nope. It’s a bit mean to assume, but I’ll let you off the hook today.” She fixes her cardigan, redoing the knot pulling the two sides together to make it look more like a bow. “Anyway, I shouldn’t stand next to you here. People’ll think I’m trying to skip the line. Meet you at the entrance?”
“Yeah, alright. Meet you there.” Firey doesn’t bother to wave her goodbye as her silhouette disappears in the crowd. He’s just one person away from getting a slice of cake, so he’ll see Leafy soon enough.
He’s right. Two minutes later, holding a plate of cake in one hand and a prebiotic soda in his other hand (the soda gets thrown into his bag, since he needs the other hand to hold the fork and also because Firey isn’t very fond of the taste of prebiotic soda), he’s able to find Leafy again. The entrance isn’t very far from the cake stand, but it’s the mass of people in the festival that make Firey later than usual. He has to squeeze past so many different college students, and it honestly makes him feel claustrophobic. Though, Gelatin would know that feeling better than Firey does, since he’s the one with the actual phobia, Firey assumes.
Finally, Firey spots Leafy leaning on the iron fence on her phone. Walking over with tip-toed steps, Firey decides to surprise her by shouting “boo!” loudly. Obviously, not very loudly, but the scare does its trick—Leafy jumps up, almost dropping her phone in the process.
“Wow. Really, now?” Leafy deadpans, but there’s a sparkle in her eyes that gives her true expression away.
Firey laughs, a short, glee-filled snort. “I have to enjoy my youth while I can. You can’t do this when you’re forty—people are going to think you’re weird.”
Someone behind Firey dryly states, “People already find you weird.”
Firey spins around to see Coiny, his archnemesis-turned-friend. Arch-friend. Fri-nemesis. He’d have to think about the name at a different time. “Oh, um, hey dude! Wasn’t expecting to see you here, but I’m glad you did anyway.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting you either, Coiny. Though, I’m happy you’re here!” Leafy exclaims, putting her phone away in her tote bag. Firey can see she had gotten a raspberry keychain and a raspberry pin, both of which she’d promptly attached to her matching tote.
“Thanks for the reassurance that you’re happy to see me, guys. ‘Cuz Firey Underpants’s resting face is very rude looking, and I might’ve gotten the wrong impression.” Coiny bumps a very red Firey in the stomach with his shoulder, snickering all the way. To this, Firey squawks something like, ‘that was one time!” but it’s lost in Coiny’s laughter.
“What are you guys talking about, anyway?” Coiny continues on.
“We weren’t talking about anything, actually. I just came here.” Leafy responds. “Got a lot of merch, though.” Her fingers brush the raspberry pin on her bag.
“I can tell.” Coiny says, looking at her outfit from top to bottom curiously. “Cute, but, like, the pink-red of the raspberry looks kind of ugly with the lime-green of your bow.”
“But, red and green are complimentary colors, so they’re supposed to look good together—”
“Okay, guys, can I tell you the real reason I asked you to come to the Raspberry Festival? Not you, Coiny, though. But, you’re here, so I’ll tell you.” Firey interrupts, pointedly ignoring the eye roll Coiny gives him and the exasperated breath Leafy takes.
“I wanted to surprise Gelatin by kissing him on the cheek, and I need you guys to distract him while I sneak up on him from behind! It’s a fool-proof plan.” He beams, thinking that surely, nothing bad will happen. Well, this is just revenge. All is fair in love and war, after all.
“You two are dating?” is what comes out of both Leafy and Coiny’s mouth—not at all the “Great plan, we’ll definitely help you!” Firey had expected. He supposes he forgot that small little detail in the excitement.
But… they actually aren’t dating: Firey and Gelatin are playing a game of gay chicken, and it’s completely different from a relationship because it means they can be straight and they can be gay. Fake-gay. Firey has half a mind to dispute the claim that they’re dating, just because he doesn’t want Leafy and Coiny to think that he might like guys (which isn’t a bad thing! Firey doesn’t mind gay guys. He’s just not one of those gay guys). Although, that would be cheating in the game of gay chicken, which can totally disqualify Firey from competing. If he’s disqualified, then he’ll officially become Gelatin’s errand boy for a week. So not fun!
“Yeah, sorry… Forgot to tell you guys,” Firey shakily manages. It feels wrong for him to lie, but somehow, saying they’re dating feels so right. “Are you guys helping, or not?”
“I’m so excited that you guys finally got together! It’s like you and Gelatin were fated to be boyfriends from the start.” Leafy smiles. “Of course we’ll help you surprise Gelatin! Right, Coiny?” She grits her teeth, as if expecting he’ll say no or something. Surprisingly, Coiny nods in agreement, barely hiding a smirk.
“Always knew you were gay, man. Like, you just look at Gelatin this certain way… A yearning look, I think.” Coiny trails off.
Firey rubs the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t look at Gelatin in any particular way that isn’t platonic, and they weren’t fated to be together—where the hell are they even getting this information from? It’s hard being the oldest of his friend group for this reason (even if it’s only by a month, and Firey’s not at all very mature). “Shut up, Coiny. C’mon, before we miss him! Someone text Gelatin and tell him to come over here!” Firey gesticulates his sense of hurriedness by waving his hands all over in the air.
Leafy pulls out her phone. Firey almost asks her if she wants his number, but then he remembers they were in a club together in junior year of high school. Small world, isn’t it.
She types in her passcode and then opens the messages app. “What should I say?”
“Maybe something like, ‘ hey, Gelatin, are you free right now? I’m at the Raspberry Festival with Coiny, and I’m lonely, ’” Firey suggests.
“Ew! No! He’s going to think you’re hitting on him—nobody just says ‘I’m lonely’ without meaning ‘I wish you were here right now because I like you’. ” Coiny says, sending a baffled look Firey's way. “Say something like, ‘ hey, Gelatin, wanna hang out at the Raspberry Festival?’ ”
“Okay, I admit that’s probably infinitely times better.” Firey rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.
“It’s fine, Firey. I didn’t think your idea was that bad. If I got that text, I wouldn’t think of it as a flirtatious comment.” Leafy glances at Firey with understanding. She finishes typing just moments later. “Send?”
The boys nod. Meanwhile, Firey’s gut twists and turns inside of itself. He wanted to kiss Gelatin on the cheek—for payback, obviously—yet, that seemed like such a tall order. He’s supposed to be pretending to be Gelatin’s boyfriend. And that’s supposed to be normal. Because, well, gay chicken’s a normal game that straight guys play. You can’t play gay chicken and actually be gay. So, why is Firey questioning this easy fundamental concept?
Leafy looks down at her phone again to see a new message from Gelatin. “Oh! He texted me back.”
“What’s it say?” Coiny asks, leaning over her shoulder. Firey follows suit, placing his head on her shoulder; that’s what straight guys do with the girls they like.
“He said, ‘I’m already there, LOL. Where you at?’ What do I say now?” Leafy reads aloud.
“It’s easy, just say we’re at the entrance. Wait, no, don’t say we, say ‘ I’m at the entrance’ .” Coiny frowns. “Actually, no, I’m here. Say we, actually.”
“I said ‘Coiny and I are at the entrance.’ Is that fine?”
“Yeah, fine, send it.” Firey says, feeling more anxious by the minute.
“Okay, that’s it. He’ll be here soon. So, Firey, hide somewhere!” Leafy turns off her phone and slides it back in her tote bag.
Firey hastily trashes the cake-soiled paper plate and plastic spoon combo he’d been holding for the entire conversation in a nearby trash can. He looks around for somewhere to hide—really, the only suitable spots are behind trees. It makes him look like a doofus, but it’ll have to do. Firey pats down his hair and licks his lips to rid it of any stray dollops of frosting. He should be presentable. Even if this is something super small.
Surprisingly quickly, Gelatin saunters into the scene. Clad with his Christmas gift headphones that he always wears around his neck, worn, beat-up Nike sneakers, and an old once-neon green hoodie, Gelatin looks ordinary. But, when did ordinary shift into breathtaking? Firey freezes in a failed attempt to calm his racing heartbeat.
“Hey, Leafy! Hey, Coiny! What’s up?” Gelatin waves at the two.
“Hi! We weren’t really doing anything. In fact, we just barely got here!” Leafy’s smile is a bit larger than usual to overcompensate for the lie.
“Yup! In fact, we’re actually really bored with only us two. Glad you came, though, because the more the merrier!” Coiny exclaims with wide eyes that dart to Firey's hiding spot, very obviously signifying for him to do it now.
Firey carefully inches closer and closer to Gelatin, making my footsteps as quiet as he can. His steps are done one by one, making sure his fake-boyfriend doesn’t suspect anything. Suddenly, Firey’s centimeters away from Gelatin’s back.
Gelatin must feel Firey’s breath, because he turns around to see who his assailant is—just as Firey’s turning to kiss his cheek. Somehow, their lips meet, and pull away just as fast. Firey idly notes how Gelatin’s lips taste like lime Jell-O dessert with hints of raspberry, most likely from the snack boxes he brings to class every so often.
“... Boo? ” Firey says, stunned. What just happened?
“Oh, hey. Babe. Hey, babe,” Gelatin quickly recovers, though his face is a little flushed.
“Hey.” Firey licks his lips. The flavor’s gone, fleeting like the kiss he had moments ago.
He kissed Gelatin moments ago! Do straight men kiss other men, even if it’s under the guise of being a part of gay chicken? Firey’s whole world seems to turn upside down on its head. He can feel color rushing to his cheeks.
“Glad you came. I mean, like Coiny said, the more the merrier,” Gelatin smoothly continues, wrapping an arm around Firey’s waist. Now, Firey’s stuck pressed up against the side of Gelatin’s not-so-toned abs and his equally not-so-toned arm.
“Yeah! More the merrier! But, me and Leafy actually have to go somewhere. We were meeting up with someone else, yeah?” Coiny says, excited to leave the budding couple alone.
“Yeah, we wanted to meet Pin at the whack-a-raspberry game stand. How about we catch you later?” Leafy says, walking away slowly with Coiny trailing after her.
Firey groans. He doesn’t bother to watch them leave, too preoccupied with less than normal thoughts of a certain someone. At least with the Leafy and Coiny duo out of the picture, Gelatin pulls his arm away from Firey’s waist—no use pretending so hard when it’s just them. But, somehow, Firey silently mourns the lack of warmth he feels.
“Bro, did you really have to kiss me on the mouth?” Gelatin puffs, pouting. His lips are unbelievably pink.
“Bro, I was trying to kiss you on the cheek! And then, you turned around—making it an actual kiss. So, it’s your fault!” Firey argues back, crossing his arms.
“That was my first kiss!”
“That was mine, too!”
“Wait. Actually?” Gelatin stops dead in his tracks.
“Yeah.” Firey gulps.
It’s silent for a little bit; not a comfortable silence like the one that so often envelopes their dorm room together, but a more unnerving one. Firey can feel a shiver make its way down his spine. He shakes slightly in place.
“How about… we can just… pretend it never happened? I wanna keep my kiss virginity, y’know?” Gelatin finally breaks the silence. “Oh! And, it’s against the rules.”
Firey mulls the idea over for a little while, thinking of the possibility. It’s completely reasonable. But, there’s something Firey wants to say—it’s on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be heard; it’s gone as soon as he acknowledges it.
“Yeah, I’m cool with that. I’m saving my first kiss, too.” he responds, suddenly solemn.
“Cool. ‘Kay. Wanna play the sequel of the fighting game you got a few days ago? I got it today for just three dollars. Hopefully it won't be as bad as the first one.” Gelatin changes the subject in an instant. Firey isn’t angry, though—he’s ecstatic, actually, to leave this topic behind.
“‘Kay. But, if it sucks, you owe me five bucks.” Firey warns.
“That’s more than the amount I paid, man!” Gelatin pulls out his wallet to find four nickels and no cash at all. “Literally, look. I don’t have money for this.”
“Uh, I owe you five bucks if it’s good?”
“That’s the exact same bet, dude. But, whatever. Trust me, you’re going to be giving me five dollars by the end of this.”
Firey starts walking towards the entrance, grinning. “Sure. Wanna bet?”
iii.
Gelatin feels a little bit bad for what he’s about to make Firey do. He’s been in love with Firey for such a long time now, and he’s known that fact for equally as long. That’s why suggesting they pay gay chicken makes him feel so disgusting—Gelatin’s stringing along his straight best friend into a game where they ‘act’ gay just so he can feel what it’d be like if Firey really returned his feelings. And that’s horrible, because what if Firey finds out about his ploy? He’ll be so betrayed. That’s not at all what Gelatin wants him to feel.
Now, this is just the icing on the cake. Gelatin’s… already invited Firey to dinner with his parents. Accidentally. Only because it seems so real; so tangible, the fact that Firey could be his boyfriend. And, he can’t cancel now because he might’ve called his parents to confirm Firey’s coming—if he backs out now, his mamá and papá are going to be really pissed that Gelatin’s lying about dating Firey.
This is probably the biggest mistake he’s ever going to make in his life.
He clutches the smartphone in his hand nervously, not daring to look at himself in the black screen’s reflection. Hopefully Firey calls soon, maybe with a message that says he has to cancel because of some class or exam he has to take. But, that’s way too lucky for Gelatin’s standards. In actuality, he’s probably going to be greeted with the sickening news that Firey’s on his way soon.
If today was a real dinner with his parents, then it’d be the textbook definition of perfect. Gelatin has a nice outfit on (new, not wrinkled, and they don’t have any toothpaste stains or loose strings/holes) and his locs are neat and not messy. His breath doesn’t smell; his throat isn’t sore; he has six ten dollar bills, two five dollar bills and a few coins in his wallet; his phone is charged—basically, Gelatin’s in peak physical condition. Plus, Firey’s going as his date, which is totally great. Plus-plus, Gelatin’s parents aren’t homophobic like the majority are in his neighborhood.
But, the dinner’s based on a lie. Bummer.
Gelatin paces the perimeter of his childhood room, finally setting down his phone to distract himself from his thoughts. He wishes could’ve been back in his dorm room, if only to better gauge Firey’s reaction when he asked him out to dinner—it’s hard to take away what Firey’s really feeling from just his texts, since they always seem so happy-go-lucky to Gelatin. But, he always goes home for the weekends. For better or for worse (better when he has a fight with Firey. Worse when he fails a Biology test by a point lower than the passing grade).
Gelatin notes all the things in his room that feel like a blast from the past. Like, a box of forks stuffed underneath his desk from when he was obsessed with stealing the school lunchroom forks in 6th grade to make fork towers. A dusty stack of comics drawn by Teardrop in their freshman year when she drew comics and sold them for a quarter a’piece—Gelatin commissioned a special comic from her for 50 cents, and it was actually kind of good. A pile of SAT textbooks that were supposed to help him get into an Ivy League, and failed. A Cheesecake Factory bag that he’d bought in senior year to show his love for cheesecakes, and consequently never wore as to never get it dirty. There’s a lot of memories in his room, Gelatin thinks.
From downstairs, his mamá yells, “ Hijo, come downstairs. Your boyfriend is at the door.”
“ Oh my pre-packaged jelly, he’s already here, ” Gelatin whispers to himself, fiddling with his shirt sleeve out of nervousness. Though, somehow, he’s able to make it to the door.
Gelatin hesitates at the doorknob for a second before opening it. The smell of his papá’s cooking wades through the air and swirls into his room. Suddenly, he’s put at ease. Maybe this dinner won’t be so bad, if he’s surrounded by familiar things, like his papá’s delicious steakhouse-grade steak.
He walks down the stairs slowly but surely, feeling calm and collected. His mamá pushes him to answer the door and welcome Firey in, since that’s being courteous for their wonderful guest. It isn’t bad, though—Firey smiles and greets Gelatin with a hug and a mumbled threat: “Your dad’s food better be as good as you say it is, dude.”
Gelatin hugs him back, burrowing his face in Firey’s shoulder. “I guess your mind is going to be blown, then.” he says into the crook of Firey’s neck. Pulling away, he continues, “Come over to the table. My mamá and papá are dying to see you!”
“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” Firey follows Gelatin into the dining room, eyes wide and marveling. Gelatin remembers now that he hasn’t seen this house before—his family moved here very recently, and Firey’s only visited before they moved.
The lights are on, and the night’s moonlight drifts in through the open windows. The February chill swirls into the dining room. Their table is a small one, able to fit only four people. But, Gelatin finds the place to be very cozy. The kitchen is attached to the dining room, making it a bit cramped yet also easy to navigate. Plus, the wallpapers and tiles are homey. It feels so nostalgic to Gelatin, even though he knows this home is entirely new to him. To be fair, the countless number of trinkets cluttered on the one shelf in the room do add to the sense of nostalgia, so it’s not just the wallpaper evoking the feeling. Needless to say, Gelatin really enjoys being in the dining room (with food or without food). With luck, maybe it’ll help him survive this dinner.
Firey sits next to his papá, while Gelatin’s situated at the opposite end of the table next to his mamá. All the better for kicking Firey in the foot when he finds a way to embarrass Gelatin in front of his parents, or mention his abysmal grades in his creative writing class.
Papá sets out the plates first, then gives out glasses of water to everyone. After that comes soft, white rice, piled high on the plate. Gelatin can see Firey already salvating—he gets it, rice is amazing. Next, Papá takes out the pot and scoops a serving of the seasoned beef with all the garlic, onions, black pepper, and other various sauces. He places it gently on the rice of Firey’s plate first, and repeats this motion for everyone’s food. Lastly, Mamá sets a fork and a spoon next to every plate, and then sits back down.
“This is my favorite recipe, sons. I thought of it myself back in culinary school. I call it the Collagen Special, named after me, of course.” Papá says, sitting down.
“Oh, that’s cool. Does it have collagen in it, though?” Firey questions, digging in immediately.
“Yes, lots of it in the beef. However, I couldn’t have thought of the name without my lovely wife to help me,” Papá smiles.
“You flatter me too much.” Mamá laughs. “But, also, you talk too much. Let the boy tell us his story.” She stabs a piece of beef with her fork and chews it thoughtfully.
“Oh! Um…” Firey starts, clearly clueless.
Gelatin rolls his eyes, biting into a big piece of onion. “Talk about achievements or something, dude.”
“Yeah! Okay, yeah, sure.” Firey says with a full mouth. Swallowing the beef, he turns to Mamá and Papá. “So, I’m studying architecture, because I want to be an architect. Though, I wouldn’t mind being an archaeologist; I actually really love studying human history, especially the Paleolithic eras. I go to the same college as Gelatin, and I get good grades. My favorite color is orange. Uh—I’m older than Gelatin by a few months, and that might seem bad, but I promise I’d be a good boyfriend!”
“Yeah! That was good!” Gelatin cheers. Underneath the table, he finds Firey’s hand (now clammy from the stress of being judged by his very scary parents), squeezing it once before letting go. Firey takes Gelatin’s hand and squeezes it back—translating roughly to: I’m OK now. Thanks, dude. Yet, this time, Firey doesn’t let go.
“Eccentric, aren’t you?” Mamá says. “But, yes, architects make good money. Successful. Good career choice.”
Papá smiles at Mamá, but his eyes narrow when turning to Firey. “Yes, but how will you treat Gelatin?”
“Papá, you’ve known Firey for a long time now. He’s a good guy.” Gelatin interrupts. He takes a large swig of water, glancing at his father with a frown. Papá doesn’t say anything, instead deciding to look at Gelatin with disapproval clearly written on his face.
“So, like, I’d…” Firey gulps. Gelatin wonders if he’s actually taking this seriously, or if he’s spewing a bunch of B.S. Secretly, Gelatin hopes it's the first option. “I’d make sure to communicate well. And, um, if he didn’t want to do something, I wouldn’t force him, y’know? Also, like, I’d made sure we had a good power balance. I would… call him out if he did anything wrong, too.” Firey continues, surprisingly thoughtfully.
“Then, it’s decided. You’re a good man, Firey.” Papá says. He looks almost proud. Does this mean Papá considers Firey a part of the family now? Gelatin wonders.
The rest of the meal passes by without a hitch. The conversation doesn’t stop there, but instead it morphs into casual, small talk about their day-to-day routines and the little things that made them slightly different. Mamá talks about expanding the company to another location, if it’d even be profitable. Papá talks about the mishaps that happened in the family steakhouse kitchen. Gelatin talks about clubs he wants to join next semester. And, Firey talks about internships he’s looking to apply for and connections with their college alumni that he’s trying to secure—fitting into their established dynamic like a lost puzzle piece. His spot at the table is so natural it hurts.
Gelatin has to tell him soon. But, not today. Definitely not today.
(Then when? is the question that rings in the back of his mind.)
iv.
“Y’know, I thought I would’ve been surprised that you’re dating Gelatin, but I’m not. And, it’s like, super weird, because I could’a sworn you were in love with Leafy.” Coiny sips his orange juice, staring intently at Firey. Firey doesn’t respond, however—too shocked to process whatever the hell it was that Coiny rambled on about just now. Oblivious, Coiny continues on: “But, I did my research, so you can’t say I’m some sort of fumbling idiot. I was searching this LGBT encyclopedia on some webpage, which might've been a chat site now that I think of it, and I saw a bunch of labels I don’t know how to pronounce. Though, there’s one where you can like both girls and guys—are you that one?”
He takes a piece of egg from Firey, stuffing it in his mouth. “It’s, um… bi—bigend… no, uh, wait. Pan? That’s a different one, actually. Bi-something.”
“It’s bisexual, Coiny. That’s the sexuality you’re looking for.” Firey cuts up a little bit of Coiny’s pancake with his fork and eats it as revenge.
“Are you bisexual, then?”
“Um…” Firey starts. It’s complicated, really. He knows he has some sort of infatuation with Leafy (either that or it’s a crush, which sounds a lot more juvenile), and he has been his entire life. But with the game of gay chicken, Firey’s starting to spend a lot more nights wide awake and contemplating his romance life. It was easier when he was just straight—though, is he still just straight anymore? Firey’s starting to find a lot of things that he likes in Leafy that Gelatin has too, and for some odd reason, they feel ten times as powerful.
“I really don’t know. Maybe the only reason I ‘liked’ Leafy was because you guys said I did.” Firey says suddenly, heartbeat increasing.
He can’t bear to look at Coiny’s expression right now—it’d force him to do even more self reflection; he’d have to look inward and see if his words are true or not. Firey reckons he already knows the answer, and that scares him. Firey looks down at his half-eaten breakfast of bacon, egg, and cheese, resting his elbows on the greasy diner table. He can see himself in the reflection of the wood table’s sealant, and he doesn’t look great. Maybe it’s the consecutive number of sleepless nights coming back to bite him in the butt. Or, maybe it’s the stress of gay chicken between Firey’s straight best friend and his not-so-straight self, and the never relenting thoughts of what could be…
“Wow. That’s kinda deep.” Coiny responds, taking Firey out of his mind’s reverie. “What makes you say that?”
“Nothing. I was just saying stuff to say stuff, dude. So, I might be bisexual. Who knows?” Firey backtracks immediately, feeling almost exposed. Like, he needed to keep that part about his feelings secret to everyone but him. It’s better to be bi, anyway. You’re more normal that way than you are as a ‘full-on gay’, even if it’s just by a little bit, Firey reasons.
“Cool. Honestly, it’s funny that you’re bi. You swing both ways, yet it took you so long to get one partner.” Coiny finishes his juice, laughing quietly to himself.
“Shut up. Where's your relationship with Pin? Oh, yeah, you don’t have one.” Firey sticks out his tongue at Coiny, glad to be in a more joke-y conversation than a “deep” one, in Coiny’s own words.
“Whatever! We’re getting to it, I swear. She’s totally into me—and I’m totally into her.” he says, puffing out his chest ridiculously. Though, Coiny’s cheeks are stuffed with pancakes and maple syrup dribbles down his chin, so the pose doesn’t come off as charming. Instead, it’s more dorky.
“Yup. Pigs are gonna fly before you guys get together, dude.” Firey shovels the last bit of bacon into his mouth, then he chugs the small amount of water remaining in his cup in big gulps. “I gotta get to class now, so I should really be going,” He takes out his wallet, looking for a twenty dollar bill.
“Alright. Are we still on to hang out later today?” Coiny asks, wiping off the syrup on his face.
“Ah, no… I actually was gonna hang—um, go on a date at the movie theater with Gelatin later today. I completely forgot about our plans. Sorry!” Firey says in clear remorse. He did want to spend time with Coiny, but spending time with Gelatin felt far more exciting. Plus, Coiny had brought up the prospect of the two boys hanging out today a long time ago, and Gelatin had only talked about the pseudo date two days ago, making Firey feel just that bit more crappy.
“ Of course. Just don’t forget protection.” Coiny rolls his eyes, surprisingly taking the matter very lightly. That comes as a huge relief for Firey, since he doesn’t want to let his other best friend down because of dumb feelings. “Anyway, I’mma dip now. See you later, alligator.” Coiny strings his backpack over his shoulder and walks out without paying.
“In a while, crocodile.” Firey says before realizing the lack of money on Coiny’s side of the table. He curses under his breath once he does. There goes my budget for the week, Firey thinks. And, it’s only Wednesday!
◦ ♂ ◦
Firey finds the movie theater to be a wonderful place where popcorn is a delicacy and not some stupid food that gets stuck in the gaps of your teeth, and where people willingly spend hours of their lives in a dark, cold room. Sure, the last time he’s watched a movie in theaters is when he was five, and the last time he’s actually watched a movie in full is probably when he was in sophomore year. So, Firey is definitely not a cinephile in any way, shape, or form. But, you don’t have to be a chef to know the food is good; movies are amazing and convey beautiful ideas in picture form. “A picture is worth a thousand words”, or something like that.
Even without the fact that Firey isn’t a movie buff, this date is special because Gelatin’s in it. It’s not everyday you get to watch a fun movie with your best-friend-turned-crush-turned-fake-boyfriend. But, it’s also not everyday you get to watch a movie for free because your fake-boyfriend’s friend wanted to go to a movie with their now-ex—then their ex cancelled and broke up with them, causing your fake-boyfriend’s friend to give both tickets to you and your fake-boyfriend because they can’t stand to watch a movie where they might be reminded of their ex. Though it’s sad that Lollipop had to go through that, Firey is very thrilled to watch something in theaters for free. He is a broke college student, after all.
Firey stands outside the movie theater doors and basks in the scenery; blue, cloudless skies, plush green trees, and a park nearby. A complete contrast from the soulless urban gray he’d had to traverse through while walking to the theater. Even if this isn’t exactly a real date, at least it is for sure a very pretty day. Too bad Firey wouldn’t be able to see it once Gelatin arrived. They’d be stuck in the darkness of the theater, with only the projector’s glow as light.
Gelatin arrives soon enough, clapping Firey’s shoulder in lieu of a greeting. “Hey, Fireboy! What’s up?”
“Hey, Gelatini! I was just waiting for you, but you’re here now. C’mon, we don’t want the movie to start without us—whatcha waiting for?” Firey opens the door and immediately gets assaulted by a gust of cool air. “Ladies first.” he grins, dramatically bowing down as part of his gentleman roleplay.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Gelatin says in a bad imitation of a rich, elegant lady. But, he sounds more of a Southern belle rather than the millionaire wife he’s going for.
Naturally, they navigate to the concession stand, even if the film “starts” in about five minutes. Everyone knows the movies play twenty minutes of advertisements after the designated starting time, and then the film actually starts. The line isn’t very long (probably because everyone’s already inside the auditorium), so they don’t wait more than three minutes to get to the kiosk. Gelatin buys a blue raspberry slushie and Firey buys a cherry one, alongside one extra-extra-large bag of popcorn—it’s a two hour long movie, meaning a normal extra-large bag wouldn’t cut it. Two growing boys and one extra-large bag of popcorn… well, they’d finish it in ten minutes flat. Somehow, Firey convinces Gelatin to pay for all three items.
Firey and Gelatin start walking to the theater, their arms interlocked at the elbow. Gelatin starts slurping on his slushie like crazy, and before they’re even past the bathrooms, his slushie is already a quarter finished. Firey snatches it from him, scolding: “Dude! If you drink it that fast, you’re gonna get a brain freeze and an empty cup before the ads are done.”
“But, I paid for that! So, I should be able to do whatever I want with my slushie.” Gelatin frowns. “What’re you gonna do with my slushie, anyway? Drink both of them at the same time like some sorta buffoon?” He eats a sad handful of popcorn while eyeing his blue raspberry drink greedily. Firey mentally chuckles, finding the sight to be almost cute.
“Well, actually, I was just going to confiscate your drink, but now that you’ve put that idea in my head…” Firey holds the two cups up to his mouth level, as if seriously considering Gelatin’s suggestion. Gelatin scoffs, but his jaw hangs open when Firey piles both straws into his mouth and drinks. “Is my tongue purple now?” He sticks out his purple stained tongue.
Gelatin’s eyes linger on the sight of Firey’s tongue, and then he rolls his eyes. “C’mon. You gotta let me try now.”
Firey hands over the slushies, then Gelatin gulps a large swig of both slushies. He shows his tongue to Firey, and it’s about the same color—maybe a tad bit more blue, since Gelatin drank a lot of his blue slushie only a moment prior.
“Now, people are gonna think we kissed or ‘sum. Blue plus red equals purple, and both of our tongues are purple.” Gelatin notes when they get to their seats.
“People think we kiss regardless. Fake-dating, remember?” Firey replies bluntly.
“Right,” Gelatin looks away, suddenly sheepish. He twiddles his fingers, eating popcorn more out of habit than as a snack. “...Duh.”
◦ ♂ ◦
The first jumpscare plays not very far into the movie; it’s a creepy monster jumping out from nowhere to kill one of the supporting characters, then the main lead wonders where the supporting character’s gone—just to find out they’re dead and the monster’s coming for them next. It’s so predictable, yet both Firey and Gelatin are spooked. They both jump in their seats at the same time and find comfort in each other's arms. Firey thinks their situation would be cute if it wasn’t Firey and his best friend cuddling. To be fair, they’re pretending to be a couple, and this is what couples do, but there’s a point where the disguise turns into the real thing.
“You didn’t tell me this was a horror movie, Gelatin!” Firey angrily whispers at Gelatin.
“How was I supposed to know? Lollipop was full on crying when she gave me these tickets—what would I do? Say, ‘hey, is this a horror movie or not? Sorry ‘bout your ex, BTW’?” Gelatin whispers back in rapid-fire English.
“Bruh. Whatever. Let’s just continue.” Firey crosses his arms, disentangling himself from their impromptu embrace. He tries to focus his attention back on the screen, but thoughts of what just happened are too pressing to ignore.
The thing is, I didn’t even not enjoy the cuddling, Firey admits to himself. What is that supposed to mean for our friendship? Is it even a friendship anymore if you’ve already kissed your so called friend? Firey feels an unfamiliar twinge in his abdomen, feeling an awful lot like the overused metaphor of butterflies in his stomach. And, that can only mean one thing: he likes Gelatin! As in, he like-likes Gelatin. How weird is that?
So, wait—does this mean Firey’s gay? Actually? He doesn’t have anything against the queer community, since he’s not some sort of homophobe (ew! Firey’s super supportive. Why would he not be?), but it’s still odd to think that he’d be a part of that group. Coiny said he was bisexual earlier, yet it feels like putting a circle in a square hole; it fits, but not exactly. Firey groans internally. Why is thinking about sexuality so hard?
Firey’s eyes stay glued to the movie, although he’s not processing what happens. He knows a jumpscare happens again, since Gelatin wraps his arms around Firey once more (and it… again, is a very nice feeling—very warm, too), though he doesn’t remember it happening on screen. Instead, his mind races, thinking about every meaningful interaction he’s ever had with a girl. Unfortunately, he hasn’t had very many.
Leafy’s been his friend since forever, and they’ve had a lot of ups and downs in their relationship, but Firey can’t recall ever looking at her in more than a platonic way. The only time he’s ever thought of Leafy in a “romantic” way is when they’d had a senior play in eighth grade, and Leafy had to play the male lead because of a lack of guys in their shared art class. Leafy passed really well for a guy then. And, for some reason, Firey remembers his heartbeat was really loud in that play.
Pin became his friend by association (Leafy became friends with Pin first, then Coiny, so Firey had to become friends with her, too), so he doesn’t have a lot of memories with her one on one. Firey thinks you’re able to know if it’s a crush if you dream of your “crush” kissing you. He never had any dreams of Pin like that. Really, that’s never happened before with any girl.
Though, there was one time where that happened. And… oh God.
Firey dreamt of Gelatin kissing him last night. So, he’s actually gay.
Oh, what is he going to say to Gelatin? It’s not right to lie to your best friend about something like this. Plus, they’re playing gay chicken, while one of the participants is actually, fully, really gay! Like, that must be Firey taking advantage of Gelatin in a way. Because he's been enjoying their “dates” a lot. Maybe too much.
He needs to tell Gelatin soon. But, Firey thinks, looking over at Gelatin whose face is still trained on the film that’s C-tier at best. Not today. That’s just way too much to drop on one guy.
Gelatin won’t be mad that I’m sort of lying to him, right?
v.
Every Saturday, Flower brings all of them (Gelatin, Lollipop, and Teardrop) to the mall a few blocks away from Flower and Lollipop’s university as a “BFF Bonding Spree”. Gelatin usually has to wake up super early to drive to the mall, since their university takes about an hour to get to from his college. Luckily, Teardrop finally got her license a few months ago—she’s been stuck with a measly learner’s permit for a while now—so, now Teardrop’s the one behind the wheel for their annual shopping sprees. Even if she’s a little bit of a reckless driver, Gelatin’s happy to be lazy and sit in the passenger seat. Thank goodness it’s against her religion to drink… otherwise, she’d probably amass quite a few DUIs.
“Tomorrow, are you going with us to the beach? Everyone’s going. Bring Firey if you want, I don’t care.” Teardrop signs while waiting for the red light to pass. At least, that’s what Gelatin thinks she signs; he’s not all that fluent in ASL yet. For all he knows, she could’ve said “I don’t mind” instead of “I don’t care” since their signs look somewhat alike.
“Yeah. Firey too.” Gelatin responds in his broken ASL, finger-spelling the word “too” because he can’t remember the sign for the life of him. Luckily, Teardrop nods in agreement, understanding Gelatin’s less-than-acceptable response.
“Can’t wait.” Teardrop smiles.
Gelatin smiles back. Then, he’s reminded of how he’s going to be forced to pick out cute outfits for the girls to wear, and then he sighs. Gelatin wishes the phrase “girls go to college to get more knowledge; boys go to Jupiter to get more stupid-er” was real, because he’d rather be dumb in Jupiter than go shopping.
◦ ♂ ◦
Gelatin brings up the idea to Firey later in the evening when they’re both at their dorm eating dinner. He twirls the spicy noodles he forced Firey to boil water for around his fork before placing it in his mouth, slurping it extra slowly to savor the flavor. Firey’s bowl is already half-done, however, because he never learned about patience as a kid.
“To the beach? Okay, bro, news flash: I hate swimming! Plus, I don’t got any swim trunks.” Firey argues. Gelatin knows he’s only acting pissy because he bombed his exam earlier today, yet he decides to humor Firey anyway. Is this what love feels like?
“Please, Firey? For me? I promise I’ll get you your favorite chips afterwards…” Gelatin says with the biggest puppy eyes ever. “Plus, you got swim trunks, dude. Like, a few weeks ago, you were cleaning your closet and put all of your clothes on my bed, and I vividly remember that you have Minecraft blaze patterned swim trunks. It’s insane, ‘cuz I didn’t even know that those existed!” he chuckles over his bowl of noodles.
“But, I don’t wanna. I really hate swimming.” Firey wipes sauce off from the corner of his mouth with a used napkin that he used to blow his nose. Once he realizes this, he grimaces, and Gelatin laughs harder. Firey continues on, with a new napkin. “And, those are from 6th grade! No way am I going out in those!”
“Pretty please with sprinkles and a cherry on top? You don’t gotta swim. Just be my eye candy.” Gelatin pouts.
“How am I gonna be eye candy with Minecraft trunks?” Firey replies, flustered from embarrassment.
“You’re beautiful, dude. With or without dumb shorts.” he responds immediately, voice surprisingly tender. Oops. Gelatin didn’t mean to say that—something so sweet like what he just said must be crossing the line. And, well, Gelatin isn’t someone who’s sappy.
“Thanks. You’re not that bad looking either, except for when you’re being mean like this.” Firey sighs. “But, like, I can’t go to the beach. What if a tsunami kills me? What if I drown? ” He looks up at Gelatin with wide eyes, shoulder deep in his thalassophobia. Gelatin shakes his head, unsure on what to say. Phobias are hard to fight: he would know, considering he’s very claustrophobic.
Gelatin extends his free hand over the table for Firey to take. It’s good that he does, because otherwise Gelatin would’ve been going crazy over being so touchy-feely (Gelatin’s never like that. For a guy who’s been in a relationship before, he hates being all wholesome). “You’re not gonna drown, Firey. Trust me. Why would I ask you out to the beach without knowing your super crazy hatred of water?” Gelatin thumbs Firey’s hands absentmindedly, drawing circles around the knuckle and the wrist with his fingers.
“I guess I won’t drown if I don’t swim…” Firey takes his hand back to run it through his hair anxiously. Gelatin manages a small smile—it’s a victory!
“Then, you’re going to the beach with me.” Gelatin watches as Firey gets up to go wash his bowl (by washing his bowl, he means leaving it in the sink to wash later), sending Firey a look that says, “this decision is final” .
“No oo .” Firey whines.
“I’mma just ignore that, thank you,” he shouts so Firey will hear. Gelatin finally washes his bowl, and heads to the living room to get in a few more episodes of his favorite show before bed. Firey’s already in his seat, however.
So, it’s war, Gelatin thinks, overjoyed about the prospect of tomorrow.
◦ ♂ ◦
Gelatin and Firey walk onto the beach scene an hour after they were supposed to be there, clad in their most incriminating swimsuits (they haven’t swam since freshman year of high school, where they had mandatory swimming classes that shut down the next year because of budget cuts) and bad tan lines. Firey actually had to buy sunscreen for their outing today, since he never learnt about skin cancer—somehow, he got the wrong SPF the first time; Firey was forced to go back to the store and exchange the SPF 20 sunscreen for the better SPF 50 sunscreen. ( “Why is the SPF 20 sunscreen a thing in the first place, anyway?” Firey had groaned.)
“OMG, you guys are really late. Also, what are you wearing? ” Flower says incredulously once they reach the shared group towel, taking off her sunglasses to better see their swim trunks. “Wait, sorry, that’s mean. No judgment here, haha!” Flower backtracks, however she puts her sunglasses back on and turns the other way so she doesn’t have to look at Gelatin and Firey’s outfits.
“No, but, seriously. Are you two Minecraft buddies, or what?” Lollipop pulls her mouth into a disapproving, thin line.
Gelatin looks down at his bright green Minecraft creeper shorts. He’d sworn he had other trunks, though it was nowhere to be found in his closet. Firey doesn’t dare to glance at his matching red-orange blaze swim trunks. “We had nothing else,” Gelatin mumbles.
“Be glad they have shorts, Lollipop and Flower.” Teardrop rolls her eyes, though there’s a smile in her eyes. Flower and Firey are the newbies to the friend group, so Lollipop and Gelatin translate TD’s signs to both members respectively.
“How about we swim now? It’s been long enough for me, waiting for the both of you.” Lollipop stands up, placing her empty Pepsi can on her bright purple beach towel. Flower and Teardrop quickly follow her. Gelatin almost goes with them, but then he sees how Firey hadn’t moved an inch. In a last-minute epiphany, he decides against swimming—he has enough bad memories from Mr. Fourteen’s botched swimming class.
“We’re gonna stay back and hold the fort, actually.” Firey suggests. “Gelatin, you don’t wanna swim either, right?” He turns to Gelatin, mouth quivering in a poor attempt of keeping an amicable smile.
“Duh, I’m staying with ya’. I bet the water’s too hot anyway.”
“Well, the water was cool when I swam in it, so are you sure—” Flower starts before TD reaches up to muffle her mouth, shooting Flower a stink eye.
“Let’s just go. They want to be alone.” Teardrop signs to Flower, and after a quick translation from Lollipop, Flower gets the hint.
Gelatin sets down his thankfully normal towel and connects it next to TD’s spot. Firey sets up his next to Gelatin’s, also putting up a beach umbrella for some much needed shade. From Lollipop’s cooler, Gelatin grabs an ice-cold Mountain Dew for himself and a Fanta for Firey. Then, he lays on the sandy towel, eyes watching the arriving waves rise and fall, leaving a trail of wet sand in its wake. Firey follows suit, though his eyes watch Gelatin’s chest rise and fall instead. He tries to ignore how exposed and warm that makes him feel.
Maybe it’s time to end this game of gay chicken once and for all. It’s getting progressively harder for Gelatin to keep on lying to Firey, because the truth is an ugly one: he has a massive crush on his best friend, and it’s not healthy to pretend they’re already dating and that everything’s a-okay. It only started because of a dumb whim he had, and now that stupidity is making a U-turn in the form of a boomerang that hits him in the back of his head instead of coming back to his hand. Really, Gelatin’s scared. Like, maybe as scared as he is in small spaces.
He remembers how he became claustrophobic. How in elementary school, before he’d met Firey, kids would bully—no, berate him, for being a nerd just because he was somewhat interested in science, for acting “gay” (to a third grader, anything out of the norm is “gay”), for being a stuck-up teacher’s pet by actually participating in class. The classroom was so small back then; nowhere to hide, since there just isn’t enough space to be hidden. Gelatin feels similar to how he felt back then. Surrounded completely by lies, and the only way out is confessing.
Gelatin reluctantly takes his eyes off of the ocean and the seafoam and sits up straight. He places his Mountain Dew down and takes a long, hard look at Firey before attempting to speak. He feels uncharacteristically mature. Weird.
“So, Firey,” he starts, but his mouth is dry. Firey fixes his posture at the sound of his name, and stares at Gelatin. He knows it’s to show he’s actively listening, although the eye-contact is seriously unnerving. “I’ve kinda been lying to you for a while now.”
“What’dya mean by that?”
“Bro, lemme speak, and then you’ll know.” Gelatin responds curtly. Firey mumbles a quiet “sorry”. He clears his throat, then continues: “Like, I’m actually really sorry, but, um… I’ve been gay this entire time. A-and, I kinda like you too. On top of that.”
Gelatin looks back at the ocean, not strong enough to endure Firey’s confusion and probably soon to be hatred. Gelatin would hate it if his best friend kept something big like that from him. So, why is it any different when he’s doing it himself? Just look at the waves, and not Firey’s baffled expression, it’s easier that way, Gelatin reasons in his head.
“Thank God.” Firey says after a few moments of silence and kids’ shrieks from around them.
“Um. Did you just say ‘thank God’ or am I goin’ crazy?” Gelatin whips his head around in disbelief to examine Firey’s quickly reddening face. “Why’d you say that?”
“So, like, I’ve sorta been lying too… I’m also, uh, gay, and I also like you. Funny, right?” Firey smiles shyly.
“Oh my God. No freaking way.” Gelatin starts laughing hysterically, with ugly snorts to match. “So, gay chicken was actually gay guys pretending to be gay?”
“We should play straight chicken one day.” Firey takes Gelatin’s hand and rubs circles around his knuckles, like Gelatin had done just the evening before. It’s sweet—too sweet, and Gelatin flushes at the tooth-rotting sugar of the moment.
“Hell no.” Gelatin leans on Firey’s shoulder, and drinks in the air around them to preserve this day in his memory. What a funny confession, and a lucky one, too. Why was there reason to worry? “Let’s just sit here for a’while, boyfriend.”
“Sure, boyfriend.” Firey says in a silly Texan accent. It starts another bout of unserious giggling and laughter.
Gelatin loves gay chicken. And Firey, of course.