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“Okay, guys. We’re starting a new project today! You’re going to write a short, one-act play mimicking the writing style of one of the authors we’ve studied this year.” English class, sixth period. Spot sank in his seat; writing wasn’t his thing, and he’d only really enjoyed one or two of the books they had read. The teacher continued, “There are more details on the rubric, which you will read with your partners. Yes, it’s a group assignment, and no, Davey, you can’t work alone. In fact, you’ll work with… with Jack! Perfect. One of you, come get the assignment.” Davey was out of his seat before Jack could comprehend what was happening.
A group project. Spot groaned internally. Could this get any worse. Ugh. The teacher continued to assign partners. “Katherine, you’ll work with Sarah.” Kath’s eyes lit up, whether from the assignment or her partner, who knows. “Romeo, work with Specs.” Both boys looked happy as well about their assignments. “Let’s see… Spot, Race, you two together.”
Spot looked over and met Race’s smirk with a glare. They hook up a few times and now he thinks he can just have that smug, adorable face all the time? Hardly. Spot glared even harder, but Race just blew him a subtle kiss. That bastard. This would be a long project.
Spot tuned back in right as the teacher was finishing up. “This is due next Wednesday. I suggest getting some time with your partner over the weekend to work on it, because we won’t have much class time next week. Remember it doesn’t have to be perfect, just accurate and complete! You have around 20 minutes right now to get together with your partner and start working. Get to work!”
“So, which book are we doing?” Came Race’s voice from next to Spot.
“Fuck, when’d you get here?” He hadn’t even heard him coming up behind him.
“I’m just so excited to work on this project with you!” Race said, his voice dripping with fake sweetness. It’s not that he didn’t like Spot - he liked him a lot, in fact - he just liked teasing him more.
“Whatever. Let’s just work,” Spot grumbled.
“Fine. What book are we doing?” Race repeated.
“I dunno, I only really liked Gatsby and Anne Frank, so I guess one of those two,” Spot answered.
“I hated Gatsby. Anne FranK?” Race said.
“Works for me. How do you wanna start?”
“Maybe identify some plot points we want to include?” Race proposed, looking at the rubric they’d received.
“Or we could figure out how Anne Frank wrote and decide the style first,” Spot’s tone was final.
“Or I guess we could do it your way,” Race rolled his eyes.
The boys worked for around seven minutes before another major bump came up. “Anne Frank wouldn’t say that!” Spot nearly yelled.
“And why not?!” Was Race’s equally-loud response.
“She was in hiding for three fucking years and dealt with fucking Nazis - she wouldn’t be sighing and pining like a princess in a tower!” Most of the class was already staring, including the teacher.
“I’m trying to keep her human, Spot, not like a fucking robot who can magically deal with anything!”
“I’m not saying she’s magic! I’m just saying that she deserves fucking better characterization than you’re fucking giving her!” Both boys were on their feet, looking like they were ready to physically fight it out. The teacher decided that this would probably be a good time to step in and make sure no one was going to die. You never knew with these two, honestly.
“Boys! Calm down! And watch your language, please! I’m glad you’re invested in the assignment, but I really need you to be more aware of your environment!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Spot and Race said in unison, hanging their heads. They sat down and worked together in silence, except for the occasional whispered “No, idiot!” and small shove.
Eight minutes later, the bell rang and the teacher dismissed the class, adding “Spot, Race, see me at my desk before you go.”
The two boys stalked up to the front of the room, neither one looking at the other.
“Boys, what happened today was clearly unacceptable. I won’t give you detention, but I do have some questions. What happened today? I know you both can get very heated, but this seemed to escalate quickly, and I was wondering if there was any reason I should be aware of.”
“No, ma’am, no specific reason,” Race answered.
“Yeah, just Race being an ass,” Spot snapped.
“Mr. Conlon, that is inappropriate language and you know it. You’re both excused, as long as I have promises from each of you that this will not happen again. You cannot continue being such disruptions, even if it’s relevant to the class.”
“Yes, ma’am, we promise,” the students answered, eager to get out of class.
“Go. Have a good weekend,” the teacher dismissed.
~
“Okay, the fuck was that for?” Race demanded. The two boys were outside on the playground, their usual afternoon hangout. Although usually they were making out on the slide, not sitting on opposite ends of the swingset without looking at each other.
“You were being an ass!” Spot answered.
“No, I wasn't, actually! You were just being really… Really… Irritable!” Race yelled.
Spot’s reply was quiet. So quiet Race had to strain his ears to hear it. “I know. I know and I'm… Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Race replied.
“Jeez, what’s gotten into us?” Spot chuckled.
“What d’you mean?” Race asked, walking over to sit on the swing next to Spot’s.
“Well, like, getting into this whole fight or whatever in the first place. Like, we never fight!” Spot pointed out.
“Yeah, we’re too busy fucking,” Race quipped.
“And is that a bad thing?” Spot asked rhetorically. He got up and stood behind Race’s swing, his arms loosely wrapped around the other boy’s waist.
“Hardly,” Race answered, tilting his head up to silently beg for kisses.
Spot obliged, barely. He pressed soft, light kisses to the side of Race’s neck, but refused to go farther. “Y’know, if you can wait, my parents won't be home ‘til late tonight,” he stated, letting Race pick up the implication.
He did. “Well, we better move quickly. I don't know if I'll be able to contain myself for too long,” he teased.
“Well, ya better catch up!” Spot said, before grabbing his backpack and dashing off in the direction of his house.
“Fucker!” Race yelled after him, running in the same direction.
“I know I am, but what are you!” Spot yelled over his shoulder.
The boys didn't work on their English project that night. They were too… preoccupied to focus.