Khalifa and Ali are drinking Red Bull in the toilets before a quiz that neither of them have studied for. No one's around, everyone's in the Cafeteria where you're supposed to be if you're eating. It smells like boys and public toilets, of cheap soap and sweat, and things Ali would rather not be thinking about as he's drinking. It's cold, too, the way it only seems to be in toilets. He moves his legs around, stretches them out, and crosses his arms over his chest.
"I want to get high," Khalifa says.
Ali's leaning against one stall and Khalifa's leaning against the door to the one in front of him, and Ali's feet occasionally bump into Khalifa's thigh.
"You do?"
"Yeah, like, smoke weed and watch a horror movie."
Ali sets his empty can of Red Bull beside him. He entertains the idea. "Which one?"
"I don't know. Something old. Maybe in black and white."
"Dracula?" Ali crawls on the floor, sits beside Khalifa, and the cold tiles dig into his palms. "Can I have some of yours? I finished mine."
Khalifa hands him the can. "Yeah, or maybe Frankenstein."
"Or Edward Scissorhands."
"That's not scary. Or black and white."
"Yeah, well, Frankenstein isn't scary either," Ali finishes Khalifa's can. "Wait, you've seen Edward Scissorhands?"
"Yeah, saw it last night."
"Really?" Ali asks. "And you weren't going to tell me?"
"I didn't want you to get excited."
"Why?" Ali whines.
"Cause you start going on and on about the movie and the colors and the costumes," Khalifa pulls a face.
"Okay, but the costumes are insane."
Khalifa shrugs.
A boy walks into the toilet. Ali and Khalifa stare him down until he stumbles into a stall and then quickly rushes out. They grin, and then it's quiet again.
"I don't like Alia, just so you know. Not like that anyway."
"I know," Ali says. "Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden?"
"I just want you to know, so you don't have to ask."
"You said you liked someone else," Ali chases the wet residue that slides from the can. "Who?"
Khalifa bumps their shoulders together. "You."
Ali presses the empty can against the floor and watches as it slowly starts to crinkle.
Kahlifa presses harder. "Do you like me, too?"
"I like you, too." Ali looks up at the toilet ceiling. It's clean, surprisingly. "So much. It hurts."
"Really?"
"Yeah, like, I would die without you."
"Wow, that much?" And there's that smile.
Ali nods. "My heart just squeezes in my chest when I see you. Like this."
Ali squishes the can.
"Wow," Khalifa's smiling slightly. "So, you liked it when I kissed you?"
"I thought that wasn't a kiss."
Khalifa leans in, and Ali can smell Khalifa's sharp cologne, so expensive Ali would never think of buying it himself.
"What are you doing?" Ali's voice sounds like he hasn't used it in decades, but his lips turn to form a faux smile. This is simply one of Khalifa's little games.
