Trevor
"Okay, I'm not even going to mention the fact that you left me two blocks away, standing out in the cold, alone at—what—" Chase brought his arm up to eye the time on his shabby wristwatch "—half past two in the morning!
Chase, being his usual melodramatic self, had his nose up in the air, his arms crossed, as we walked down the now festive street, which was alive with drunken New Year partygoers, firecrackers of varying noises, and colorful smokes filling up the vast darkness of the night.
"Okay, great, then don't," I said, smiling cheekily. I shivered as a gust of cold night breeze blew across my bare face; I exhaled into my hands, rubbed them together, and shoved them into my jean pockets.
He rolled his eyes in response. "I could've been mugged! Murdered! Or worse—" the blonde shuddered at the thought "—raped."
"Chase, I assure you, there are no muggers, murderers, or rapists lurking about in these parts," I said. "Besides," I added, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips, "why would they waste their time on you? Surely, they've got better things to do."
Chase rolled his eyes again, but this time, he struggled to suppress a smile. He cleared his throat. "Happy New Year, Trev," he said in an off-putting, high-pitched voice, with a strange sort of glint in his eyes.
"Happy indeed," I laughed, shaking my head at his poor impression of Morgan. "Don't you need to get home? Aren't Mr. and Mrs. Humphrey looking for you?"
"Nah, man," Chase chuckled bitterly. "My parents aren't talking to me, remember?"
"Ah," I replied, "the gay thing. Sorry."
He shook his head, raising a hand. "It's fine."
"So—er—where've you been staying?"
At my inquiry, Chase shot me a weird look. "Do you really think things are that bad?"
Flustered, I fumbled for words, "Well, no, uh—it's not that I think—in fact, I don't think—um, no, 'cause you're an adult and—"
Chase roared with laughter that had enough undertone of mockery, I stopped tripping over my own words. "Okay, relax, Trev. I'm staying at this motel downtown."
I rolled my eyes. "So I was right, you fag," I huffed, a playful smile on my lips.
"Shut up," laughed Chase, lightly shoving me to the side.
"Y'know... You could stay at my place, if you want."
Chase turned to look at me with wide, hopeful eyes.
Before he could answer, I quickly held up my hand and added in a tone that made it clear I was just joshing, "No homo, though."
Chase burst out laughing. "Please, the last thing I'd want is to fuck you," he scoffed. He shook his head. "But—if you're serious—I might just take you up on that."
"Good, then," I said, beaming.
"But you're absolutely sure about this? It's such a hassle, and I—"
"Chase, stop," I cut him off at once. "It's fine. I'm happy to help out."
A smile slowly crept up on the boy's face before he slung his arm over my shoulders and gave me an affectionate noogie.
"Thanks, man. I—I really appreciate it."
I wiggled out of his grasp and playfully pushed him away from me. "What did I say about no homo?" I grinned, earning a hearty laugh from him.
A comfortable silence settled over us two then, and we walked down the road some more, occasionally passing children playing with poppers.
I gazed up at the dark sky and saw the grayish smoke the fireworks had left behind. Otherwise, though, it was a pretty clear night.
All of a sudden, as though to interrupt the serenity, Chase's phone pinged, and I looked at him as he took his phone out of his pocket.
Without warning, his face lit up, almost as bright as his phone screen, and he smiled from ear to ear, his cheeks tinged scarlet.
I nudged him with my elbow. "Hey, smiley," I taunted, amused. I peered over his side profile, which was still adorned with a big smile. "What's with you?"
"Nothing," he replied giddily before typing something into his phone.
"Okay, it's moments like this that make me why wonder why I hadn't realized you were gay sooner."
I eyed him for a few minutes, astounded at how well he was ignoring me, and—in one swift movement—grabbed his phone from out of his hands and darted up the deserted street.
"HEY!" he bellowed after me, breaking out into a sprint at once.
I hastily looked down at the screen of his phone and was met with a text message.
Eric Carter
Happy New Year, Chase xx
"Oh, my," I gasped dramatically. "Looks like someone's found himself a boy toy!"
"It's nothing like that!" hissed Chase, brick red, as he snatched his phone back and shoved it into his back pocket.
"It says 'xx'," I mused. "Where are the o's?"
Chase had to bite his bottom lip to keep his grin from showing. "I don't know, okay? Don't read too much into it. It means nothing."
"But—the question is—do you want it to mean something?" I said, wiggling my eyebrows teasingly. "He's just pulling at your heartstrings, isn't he?"
"I— Sh-shut up," he snapped, and if it was even possible, his cheeks turned an even darker shade of red.
"So, Little E, huh?" I said. "Interesting."
"Stop it," said Chase, putting his hands over his equally red ears.
"Alright, alright," I laughed.
Another silence fell over us, and we walked on, treading on the seemingly endless road that lay ahead, comfortable with each other's presence, despite all the teasing. It wouldn't be long before we reached my house.
"Hey, Trev?" Chase ventured, glancing uncertainly in my direction.
"Yeah?"
He sighed heavily, as though the question or statement to follow has been troubling him. "How did you get over her?"
With his inquiry, I suddenly understood. I grinned, shook my head, and answered wistfully, "I'll tell you when I do."
Chase nodded, as if he understood where I was coming from, paused, and took a deep breath. "Why'd you do it, then?"
I glanced sideward at him, my eyes wordlessly asking him to expound.
"The post," he added hastily, clearly not needing to be signaled twice. "The one you sent in to the freedom wall page."
"The one about Morgan?" I asked, earning a swift nod from the boy.
"Yeah, which else?" he chuckled softly. "Unless you go around posting about various girls—which I highly doubt—then yeah, the one about Morgan."
I shrugged, a vague sort of smile on my face. "Well, people needed to know."
"Geez, man," Chase laughed in disbelief, shaking his head slightly, "why don't you just confess, you coward? You practically already did, anyway."
To my surprise, it didn't long for my brain to formulate an answer; it seemed as though the answer had been stored in my subconscious for quite some time, waiting for the day I'd finally acknowledge it as the truth.
"No... She's Archer's... and I don't know a lot, but I know this much. I can feel it."
"So?" said Chase indignantly. "That doesn't mean she likes him back. She's her own person, you know."
I thought there was more coming, but instead, Chase turned his gaze skyward, his hazel eyes looking so concentrated it seemed as if he were counting the thousands of white dots sprinkled across the night sky.
He added softly, "And... if she does like him... you never know, it might be unrequited... a limerence, if you will..."
"I know, but Archer's our bro, you know? It just—doesn't feel right."
I sighed, mirroring Chase's upward gaze; I guess I kind of see the appeal to stargazing—knowing that there are quite literally billions of stars out there, some so far away, their existence seem improbable, but still counting them, anyway, gives you a strange sort of warmth and the feeling of hope and determination.
One... Two... Three... "I have to let her go."
"But—you're catching feelings, aren't you?"
Four... Five... Six... "Chase, my boy," I grinned cheekily, almost lazily throwing my arm over the boy's shoulders, "I've already caught them."