Chapter Text
Coy didn’t really have a bunch of friends.
He never really cared to have any, either. He never got on well with people his age, always too awkward or too loud or too weird. He refused to follow the status quo, and because of that choice he wasn’t as connected to his classmates as he maybe could be. That’s fine. Coy was content with this. He needed to be.
Besides, Coy did have Will Wahony.
Will had been Coy’s best friend for as long as he could remember. They had always done everything together; all of their cringe phases and new ideas and life lessons. Will was the first one to extend his support when he came out, always the first in line to come to bat for him. Unfortunately, Will was a year older than him. With Will entering his senior year, Coy could count the number of normal days he had left. The mere thought of May 14th filled him with dread.
Maybe the only good thing about Will being a year older than him was that Will could drive. So, every morning, Will would pick him up and they would head to school together. They would stop for a breakfast bagel at the local coffee shop in comfortable silence, where the barista would already know their names and orders, then take the bagels to the school parking lot. There, they would eat them and talk about the day to come.
“It is way too early in the semester for us to get a test in AP lit. On a Monday, nonetheless. Who does this guy think he is? This is ridiculous,” Coy complained with his mouth full, covering with his hand in an attempt to catch stray crumbs before they hit Will in the face.
With an eye roll at the mess Coy was making, Will passed Coy a napkin, which he took graciously and cleaned up the crumbs that had fallen. “You’re telling me. I’ve got a precalc test on Wednesday.”
“We have a precalc test. I have that class too.”
“Nerd.”
“Whatev-”
A knock on the passenger side window cut Coy off. The sound made both of the boys jerk their heads towards the sound, but its source really only cared about the attention of one of them.
While Coy didn’t have many friends, he did have another person in his life. His boyfriend, Patterson.
Patterson was fine. He actually took him on dates. He bought him things. He shared some of his nerdy interests. Patterson lied to him sometimes, maybe a lot of the time, but he always came clean about it. He had a stupid first name, so stupid he just goes by his last name. He was mean to Will, which actually bothered him a lot, but it didn’t seem personal; he’s just mean to everyone. He was nice to him enough of the time. Okay enough of the time. He was fine.
Though, truthfully, Coy wasn’t totally sure why he was still with him. Besides, of course, the gay guy shortage in their small town. But breaking up with his mid boyfriend was an issue for future Coy. Today, he just rolled down his window.
Patterson didn’t even bother to greet him. “You’re coming to my place after school.”
Coy blinked. “I am?”
“You are.”
Coy threw a glance to Will, who just shrugged, already annoyed.
“I- uh- okay?”
“Meet me by my locker after school.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah.”
Patterson lingered for a second, like he was waiting for Coy to say or do something else, then nodded once and walked off. Coy let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. When the window was back up and they were confident in Patterson’s retreat, Will spoke up.
“I don’t like the way he talks to you.”
Coy stared down at the napkin still in his hand, messing with its edges. “I think he’s just jealous of you. He’s fine when we’re alone,” It’s a half-truth. He stuffed the napkin into the designated plastic bag in Will’s backseat. His eyes met Will’s concerned ones for a moment when he turned back around. “What?”
“You’re always having to explain him to me. I just wish I could understand what you see in him.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “Well, it’s not for you to understand. Let's just drop it, okay?”
“Okay.”
---
Neither Coy nor Will had ever gotten in trouble at school before. They’re not usually having enough fun for that sort of thing to happen. However, the precalc lecture was getting a little too confusing, and the pair had begun passing notes to try and make sense of it. Tragically, their drive for academic success was caught by their teacher, and they were sentenced to an afternoon with detention.
They fully expected to be the first ones to show up. They had fifteen minutes from the final bell to sign in, and they had shown up in three. However, this was not the case, because on this backwards September day, Hanbon, the senior class president, was already sitting in the otherwise empty classroom.
“What the hell are you in for?” Will blurted out. Coy suspected Will hadn’t meant to say it. Neither of them really even knew her.
Luckily, Hanbon didn’t seem to care. “Dress code violation,” she explained with an eyeroll. “My skirt wasn’t even that short, the office was being dramatic.”
“So none of us should be here,” Coy said.
“Why are you two here?”
“Passing math notes.”
“None of us should be here,” Hanbon affirmed with a sad nod, which was echoed by the other two as they sat down beside her. “I’m Hanbon.”
“Uh, Coy.”
“And I’m Will.”
They spent the next few minutes waiting for detention to start. Will and Hanbon were talking about whatever came to their minds, and Coy was just stressed out. Patterson was expecting him to meet him after school, and he had forgotten to let him know he had detention.
He hoped he would be understanding. He knew he wouldn’t be.
Coy’s dread was stopped short when Hanbon started excitedly waving next to him. When he looked up at the door, he saw none other than Anthony Po.
Everyone at school liked Anthony. He was so grossly perfect it was like he had been written for Disney Channel. It was hardly fair for someone to be good at literally everything. He wasn’t the top of his class, but he was definitely close to it. He’s one of the best football players on their team. He goofed off all day and hardly ever faced repercussions.
Dear God did Anthony annoy Coy.
“Hi Anthpo!”
If his memory served him right, then Anthony and Hanbon have been friends almost as long as he and Will had been, so Hanbon’s reaction wasn’t so shocking. Nor was Anthony’s kind wave and smile to her as he signed in. He took a seat in the back of the classroom, a few rows behind the trio, and poked around on his phone.
The teacher arrived a few minutes late to detention carrying a stack of papers. He passed them out to the four of them, because apparently everyone else in this school was a goody-two-shoes today. Or they just ditched detention. That feels more likely.
In a rush, the teacher gave them their instructions. “You need to fill out these papers. Then, you are supposed to complete any homework you have for the remainder of the detention period. You may not leave until the hour is up,” He grabbed a kitchen timer sitting on his desk and started the countdown. “No electronics, no talking, no leaving, whatever. I’ve got a meeting. Don’t make a scene,” Before Coy could even process what was said, the teacher had already booked it out the door.
Coy turned to look at Will, who was already looking back at him with a bewildered look. On the other side of him, Hanbon was wearing a similar expression.
The paper in front of them was genuinely obnoxious. Across the top of the paper was “DETENTION REFLECTION - MISBEHAVIOR REDIRECTION", followed by a bunch of questions about what they did and how they’re going to be better.
“This is bullshit,” Will said. Hanbon nodded in agreement, giving him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.
Coy was hardly through the first question before he was hit in the back of the head with a crumbled up piece of paper. He whipped his head around. “What the hell!?”
Behind him, Anthony was already packing up his stuff. “Can you do that for me, Coy? I’ve got shit to do.”
Coy couldn’t tell if he was more shocked that Anthony Po was bothering to talk to him, or that he knew his name. Coy looked down at the crumbled up paper on the ground. It was the DETENTION REFLECTION - MISBEHAVIOR REDIRECTION form. He wasn’t in the mood.
“Like hell am I doing two of these. Do your own shit,” He threw the paper back at him. Anthony hit it back at them before it hit him or the ground.
“I just had tardies, it’ll take like two seconds to fill out. I’m already running late for practice.”
“If it’ll take two seconds just do it yourself!” They threw it right back.
Anthony caught it without looking and sent it right back. Coy threw it back harder, this time actually hitting him. Seemingly unfazed, Anthony threw it again.
Before it could hit Coy again, Will grabbed it out of the air and ate it.
Yeah. Will ate it.
“Why would you do that?!” Literally everyone asked.
“You guys were being annoying. Now there's no more paper. Problem solved.”
The room went quiet.
Anthony stared at him. Really stared at him. Then he walked over to the teacher’s desk and grabbed a new paper. He sat down next to Hanbon in silence.
Everyone worked in silence, the only sounds in the room being the ticking of the clock and the scratching of pencils. Coy couldn’t help but keep glancing over at Anthony, trying to gauge if he’s going to be stuffed into a locker or something tomorrow morning. He had never heard of Anthony being a bully before, but he could always start today. He’s definitely stronger than Coy, being a football player and all that. Plus, he could probably talk his way out of any trouble it would get him into.
Surprisingly, Anthony finished his paper before anyone else, and, from what Coy could see of it, looked like he genuinely filled it out. Full sentences and everything. He got up and left it on the teacher's desk and made for the door.
“Anthony, you can’t just leave,” Hanbon said with a sigh.
“...there is no teacher here. I don’t have any work to do. It’s fine, they aren’t going to stop me. I’ll catch ya later.”
A few minutes later, someone did, in fact, stop him. Luckily, the security guard didn’t bother to check if they were being watched, so no one was coming to babysit them. Anthony found his way back next to Hanbon. By this time, the rest of them had finished their reflections and were leaning over Coy’s shoulder to figure out the precalc homework.
“Given f of x is equal to x cubed minus six, and given h of x is equal to 2x minus 15 to the cubic root, write f of h of x as an expression in terms of x.”
“Hanbon, what?” Will gave her a confused look.
“That’s what it says!”
“That doesn’t make any sense!”
Coy grabbed the packet to put it back into his backpack. “I’ll just find it on a quizlet later. We aren’t getting anywhere.”
Before it could reach the backpack, Hanbon took it from him and handed it to Anthony. “Do you get this?”
Reluctantly, Anthony glanced over the problem. Coy couldn’t help but pay attention to the way his eyes focused in on the paper, the way his eyebrows furrowed with concentration. Coy wasn’t sure if he had ever seen him think like that before. He snapped out of it when Anthony took the pencil out of his hand to start writing on the paper. Within less than a minute, the packet was handed back to him, the problem completed.
“Where in the world did you get 2x minus 21?” Hanbon asked, taking it from him to copy the answer to her own work. Will stood over her and copied it to his own as well.
Anthony started to explain, but Coy couldn’t focus on it, lost in his own thoughts. Coy couldn’t see through Anthony’s nonchalant “cool guy” attitude. He couldn’t tell if Anthony genuinely wanted to help them. Maybe he was just bored. Maybe he just wanted to look cool and effortless in front of Hanbon. But everyone already knows he’s good at fucking everything. Did he just want to rub it in our faces? The lack of clarity troubled Coy. Before he could think better of it, in the middle of Anthony’s math lesson, Coy found himself asking aloud, “So, what the hell are you bad at?”
Anthony threw him a look. “That depends on your definition of bad, I guess.”
“That’s the kind of answer you give when you don’t think you’re bad at anything.”
The boy in question paused like he might be formulating a response to that, but before he could say anything, Hanbon chimed in with “He’s horrible at cooking.”
“I’m horrible at cooking,” Anthony echoed, seemingly relieved he didn’t have to come up with something to be bad at. Coy just rolled his eyes.
“That’s cheating, Hanbon answered for you. Give me an actual answer.”
He looked around the classroom for a moment as if the thing he was the worst at would be written across the walls. After some hesitation, “I don’t think I can dance?”
Hanbon perked up. “Oh, wait! Speaking of dancing, don’t you do theater, Coy?” Coy was getting overwhelmed by how much these two people he’d never met casually know about him. The curse of small schools. He didn’t vocalize this, instead just nodding.
“Fork found in kitchen,” Anthony joked.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Will asked, suddenly defensive.
Anthony rolled his eyes. “The only openly gay guy going to our small town high school is in our theater program, and I’m supposed to be shocked?”
“What, you have something against gay people?” Will pressed. Coy put a hand on Will’s shoulder, silently pleading him to stand down.
“No, I have something against annoying theater kids.”
Coy pretended to be offended. He couldn’t actually tell if Anthony meant what he was saying, but he didn’t really care either way. “The average theater kid is less annoying than the least annoying football player.”
“Sure, Coy.”
Subtly, hearing his name out of Anthony’s mouth again caused something to rise in his stomach. He would not name it. He would not examine it. He pushed it down.
“I bet you couldn’t even do theater. You couldn’t handle it,” He recovered.
“See? Annoying.”
The pair entered a long staring match, both stubbornly waiting for the other to look away first. Jesus Christ, were Anthony’s eyes blue—
“...And I’m Will?”
Coy broke, looking over at Will and giggling. Will and Hanbon laugh with him. In the corner of his eye he could see Anthony’s dumb smile too.
Between giggles, Hanbon explained, “I brought it up because I’ve been interested in auditioning this year! Do you think I could get in?”
“Literally a rock could get in. The bar is in hell,” Coy answered. “Auditions are in a couple of weeks if you’re serious about it. Will was talking about auditioning too a few days ago.”
The obnoxious beeping of the detention timer cut off anything Will or Hanbon would’ve responded with. Unsurprisingly, Anthony rushed to turn it off, signed himself out, and left without a word.
The three remaining said their goodbyes and parted ways, Will taking Coy with him to drop him off back at home. In the parking lot, Coy noted that Patterson’s car wasn’t there anymore, so he must’ve got tired of waiting for him and dipped. He checked his phone for messages, but he hadn’t received any.
Coy tried to push it out of his mind, forcing himself to focus on literally anything else. The more he thought about Patterson, the more he realized that Will was probably right about him, and those are not the kind of issues he needs today. Or ever, actually. So he just watched the road.