New Boy (A Javid Story)

Campfire

On the second night of the long weekend, Race set up a campfire by the lake. He brought out a few lawn and beach chairs and set them up around the fire pit. He didn't know exactly why his grandparents had agreed to let him have a fire in the backyard in the first place, but he was glad they did. When the sun started to set, he gathered graham crackers, some marshmallows, and some chocolate. Then, he yelled at everyone to meet him outside, and to bring their swimsuits just in case. By the time the sun was down, the boys were back in the lake, swimming around in the dark while the fire roared behind them. 

"I love night swimming." Crutchie grinned as he moved around the pool. 

"Yeah, it's so much better in the dark." Romeo agreed. 

"Exactly. You can't see anything if you swim over here." Spot added from the dark corner of the lake. 

"That's mildly threatening." Jojo swam a little farther from where Spot was. 

"Good." Spot nodded. 

"Can we have s'mores now?" Specs complained. 

"Yeah, yeah." Race nodded. "Everything is all set up." The boys climbed out of the lake and grabbed their towels, wrapping themselves up before they sat down. Race smirked as he sat down. 

"Oh no." Albert rolled his eyes. "Here it comes." 

"Let's gather 'round the campfire and sing the campfire song." Race started. "Our c-a-m-p-f-i-r-e s-o-n-g song." 

"Stop!" Romeo started to complain. "Please stop." 

"Alright, alright." Race laughed. "I'll stop." 

"Good." Jack laughed as well. "You're an awful singer." 

"Oh shut up." Race groaned. 

"Never." Jack shook his head. 

"You're a jerk." Race started. Jack sighed, know exactly what response Race wanted. 

"Punk." Jack responded, begrudgingly. Race pumped a fist in the air. 

"Aw yeah!" He cheered. The boys laughed a little as they began to roast their marshmallows. Of course, each had their own preferences on how they liked their marshmallows cooked. 

"Spot, your marshmallow is on fire." Elmer pointed out. 

"Shut up, I like it burned." Spot retorted. 

"Jojo, it has to get at least a little brown." Finch chided.

"Well not everybody likes theirs burned to a crisp." Jojo insisted. 

"But it's gotta have some color!" Romeo joined in. 

"Both of ya know nothing." Jojo shook his head. "I am Hispanic. I know more about flavor than the two of you ever will."

"Yeah, but this is s'mores. It's different." Romeo insisted. 

"How is it different?" Jojo asked. 

"It just is." Finch decided. 

While the boys argued about what was the best way to cook a marshmallow, Davey began to stare off into space again. Then staring into space turned into staring at Jack. The light of the campfire somehow made Jack look even more handsome than usual, and Davey really didn't know how that happened. Still, he watched the glow against the other boy's face, and felt his cheeks get hot. Later he would blame the fire for his blush, but everyone knew that wasn't the reason. When Spot saw Davey staring, he slowly leaned in to Race. 

"He really is in love with Kelly, isn't he?" He whispered. 

"What?" Race asked, pulling out of his conversation with Jojo. 

"Davey. He's got it bad for Jack, doesn't he?" Spot asked again. 

"Yeah," Race nodded. "He does." 

"Were we ever that bad?" Spot asked. 

"Nope." Race shook his head. "Not even close." 

The night continued on with scary stories, followed by a sing a long that Spot refused to participate in, no matter how many times his boyfriend insisted he joined. Specs ate more s'mores than seemed humanly possible, and Jojo attempted at teaching Albert how to do a cartwheel. Slowly, the boys started to retire to bed until only Spot, Race, Jack, Davey, and Crutchie were left. 

"Race, stop wasting marshmallows." Spot scolded his boyfriend, who was trying (and failing) to catch marshmallows in his mouth. 

"You don't control me." Race challenged, sticking his tongue out at Spot, who rolled his eyes. Crutchie kept gently prodding the wood that was being burned with his crutch, causing Jack to intervene. 

"Crutchie, your crutch is gonna catch on fire, stop that." He ordered. 

"If my crutch catches on fire I'll use the back up one." Crutchie shrugged and continued to poke at the fire. 

"Medda won't be happy if you lose that one." Jack countered. 

"Medda would be happy that I didn't catch on fire before she'd get mad at me." Crutchie responded. 

"Fair." Jack nodded. Eventually, Jack grabbed the second bag of marshmallows and started throwing them into the fire one by one. 

"What are you doing?" Davey asked.

"Tryin' to hit that stick." Jack pointed to one stick that seemed a little out of place. 

"Let me try." Davey grabbed a marshmallow and threw it in, and the contest began. It became an unspoken competition between the two to see who could hit the stick first. With each miss, the anticipation became higher and higher. The two boys forgot the world around them and could only focus on each other and hitting the stick. After about five minutes, the competition turned into a shared goal of hitting the stick. They both ignored Race telling them they were bad at throwing and continued trying until, after what had felt like forever, Davey was successful. 

"Yes!" Jack cheered, pulling Davey into a tight hug. "You did it!" 

"I guess I did." Davey laughed a little. 

'"It was just a stick." Spot mumbled, but Race slapped his arm and pointed across the fire at Davey and Jack. 

"Shut up and look." He whispered. Davey and Jack were just staring at each other, their faces only inches apart. Once again, Davey felt himself get lost in the glow of the fire against Jack's face, and Jack found himself lost in Davey's eyes. 

Slowly, Jack leaned in and kissed Davey. Davey froze up, then felt his body warm up, starting from his lips and spreading to the rest of him. He found himself in an awkward position, unaware of what to do next. But before he could decide, Jack pulled back. 

"I'm so sorry, Dave. Crutchie, can I room with you tonight?" He turned to his brother, panic in his eyes. 

"Jack, I think it's be-" Crutchie got cut off. 

"Great. Thanks." Jack stood up and walked away. 

"Jack, wait!" Davey yelled after him, but the shorter boy didn't stop. That night, in his room, with Jojo sleeping above him, Davey couldn't help but blame himself. He thought that if he had just kissed back sooner, he'd be cuddling with Jack instead of his pillow. 

Across the hall in Crutchie's room, Jack was kicking himself for kissing the other boy. He was sure Davey would hate him and that was the last thing he wanted. 

If only he had stuck around the fire a minute longer.