Vagrant Story - Go WyvernsChapter Two - Halftime ShowThe same warnings apply. Heavily shounen ai, or boy/boy romance, complete with kissing and angst and stuff. The shounen ai becomes a bit more serious in this chapter; it's still PG or PG-13, but... things continue.Even more foolishly fangirlish than the last chapter; more dwelling on clothing, more pointless gooshy detail, more idle flirtation, more smooching and cuddling and meandering angsty conversation. Some offensive language, conversation, and behavior. Some people are just assholes and that's all there is to it. Also fairly long... about forty pages. There may be some spoilers, but probably not that many. ===== |
| (SCENE: Mr. BARDORBA's classroom, the next morning, ten minutes before
the tardy bell. Overnight the weather cooled off a bit, and it's a crisp
fall day. Once again, CALLO is here early, checking over her homework.
She's wearing a soft red angora sweater over a long black skirt, and a
small black-and-gold enamel pendant that chimes softly when she moves.
Her long black hair is pulled back with a red headband, but flows loose
down her back. DUANE and GRISSOM are having a harder time than usual pretending
that they're not staring.)
(ROSENCRANTZ flows in next. It's his day to wear all black: a shiny black lame' tank top that looks wet, tight black leather jeans, and black snakeskin cowboy boots. His hair is all slicked straight back again, except for a single spitcurl pasted to the center of his forehead. Two matching golden bracelets ring his bare wiry biceps, in addition to the twenty or so usual bracelets. He glances around the classroom, eyes narrowed, but doesn't see ASHLEY or SYDNEY. Or ROMEO, for that matter. After a moment he smiles, a small secretive expression, and heads to the back of the classroom, sitting in his new seat next to TIEGER. TIEGER and NEESA are necking in the back of the room and don't even notice ROSENCRANTZ sit down.) (HARDIN is next. He's wearing a tucked-in tailored white shirt with contrasting navy blue stitching, a pair of dark blue and slightly loose jeans, and a pair of battered topsiders. Despite the simplicity of the outfit, it still screams money, as does the heavy gold watch on his wrist. HARDIN takes his seat next to CALLO, who looks up and smiles.) CALLO: Good morning, John. HARDIN: Morning, Callo. You look... really nice today. (CALLO beams at HARDIN, who flushes, just slightly. After a moment:) HARDIN: Are we going to get together this weekend to study for the history test? It's on Monday, after all. CALLO: That would be really nice, John... but would you mind if I invited someone else to join us? HARDIN: ... I guess not... who? CALLO: I want to invite Ash to sit in... he's so far behind, because he just started the class. I'd feel better if I knew you were able to walk him through the material. You're so good at history... (CALLO's smile is guileless and beautiful, and HARDIN has the intelligence to know when he's outmaneuvered. As gracefully as he can, he gives in.) HARDIN: Sure, that's a really good idea, Callo... do you think we ought to invite Sydney, too? He's obviously a friend of Ash's... CALLO: Oh, that's such a nice idea, John. Sydney cuts class a lot, so he probably needs to study too. I hope he won't be too disruptive, though... he's such a character. HARDIN: Well, we can try, anyway. If we don't get any studying done while they're there on Saturday, we can always get together without them on Sunday and do it then. CALLO: You're so sweet, John. Really. I'll ask Ash about it at lunch. (CALLO beams at HARDIN. Whatever she's thinking, her face is sincere
and friendly, and HARDIN can't help but return the smile, and then run
his fingers through his hair self-consciously.)
MR. BARDORBA: Good morning, class. Before we begin today, let me remind you all that you have a test on Monday. The test will cover through the Seven-Tone War Reparations, which we'll be talking about for the rest of the week. (General groans and mumbles from the class. After a moment:) MR. BARDORBA: Let's begin, then. After the end of the Seven-Tone War... (Class drones on. SYDNEY does not appear.) (SCENE: One of the small courtyards inside the school building, A Lunch. Because the day is so nice, and because of ROMEO's little attack yesterday, ASHLEY and CALLO have moved outside to one of the picnic tables there. ASHLEY is, once again, doing his math homework at lunch while he eats. CALLO is eating an apple.) CALLO: ... and so we'd really like you to come study with us on Saturday. I know you're pretty far behind because of your move... ASHLEY: Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, actually. Thanks, Callo. (CALLO smiles, dimpling just a little.) CALLO: You're welcome! I'm going to ask Sydney to come too... he cuts class so much, he probably really needs the help... what? (The moment CALLO says 'Sydney', ASHLEY's head jerks up, and he involuntarily crushes the potato chip he was eating. After a moment, ASHLEY ducks his head and brushes potato chip crumbs off his hand.) ASHLEY: (in a deceptively casual voice) He cuts class a lot, huh? CALLO: Oh, yes. He's really terrible about it. He's skipping today, I'm almost certain... and even when he does come to school, he cuts out of his math class all the time to wander around A Lunch with Jan. ASHLEY: Ah. CALLO: I wish he wouldn't. I mean, he's such a nice guy, I don't want to see him get held back... anyway, I'll call him tonight and ask him to come study with us on Saturday. ASHLEY: ... yeah. That's good. CALLO: Oh, I'm sorry. I'll hush so you can get back to your homework... (And with that, CALLO takes another bite out of her apple. The short crisp sound of her teeth snapping into the apple make ASHLEY jump, just a little. Shaken, he turns back to his homework.) (SCENE: A positively enormous well-furnished kitchen, much later. The huge window over the sink displays an amazing view of an enormous backyard, and the sun, just now setting. A ceiling-mounted rack above the kitchen island holds about twenty copper-bottomed pots and pans, all gleaming orange and pink in the sunset. Off to one side, near the hallway, there is a small phone nook set into the wall. In the nook there is a wall-mounted phone and a barstool, perched just underneath it. CALLO is sitting on this stool, wearing a pair of athletic shorts and a baggy red sweatshirt. A small directory sits open on her lap, and she flips through it. After a moment, she lifts the phone from the hook and punches in a phone number.) CALLO: ... hello, may I please speak to Sydney? Thank you! (CALLO pauses for a moment.) (SCENE: Another kitchen. This kitchen is definitely smaller, but whoever decorated it had very eclectic tastes; the walls are painted a dull orange-cream color, and strange Africanesque tribal masks and fetishes are hung everywhere. There is a black phone here, on the counter, currently off the hook. After a moment, SYDNEY shuffles in and picks up the receiver, gingerly, like it was a snake.) SYDNEY: (apprehensively) ... hello? (SYDNEY looks -terrible-. His face is swollen, his eyes are red, and his hair is messily pushed back behind his ears. Barefoot, he's wearing only a loose and battered pair of sweatpants, riding low on his hips to reveal about an inch of his underwear, which appears to be black. He knots his slender fingers nervously into the coiled phone cord.) CALLO: Sydney? Hi, it's Callo... are you all right? You sound awful... (SYDNEY relaxes visibly, and lets out a shaky sigh. After a moment...) SYDNEY: I'm doing better... just have a cold, that's all. CALLO: Oh, that's a shame. I hope you feel better soon... anyway, the reason I'm calling is that there's a history test on Monday... SYDNEY: God. Don't remind me, please. CALLO: Oh, Sydney, don't worry. John and I are going to study together at his house this Saturday, and I invited Ash to come study with us, because he's so behind... and we'd like you to join us, too. SYDNEY: ... CALLO: Sydney? Are you there? SYDNEY: ... yes. Yes, I'm here. CALLO: So will you come? I don't want to sound pushy or anything, but I do kind of worry about your grades, because you cut class a lot. Come on, it'll be fun! (SYDNEY leans against the wall, pushing one hand through his messy hair.) SYDNEY: Is Ash definitely going to be there? CALLO: Yes, he said he would be... why? SYDNEY: ... no reason. I... I'll be there. John's house? CALLO: Yes, at noon... we can go have dinner afterwards, maybe see a movie or something. You do know where he lives, right? SYDNEY: Yeah. Yeah, I know where John lives. CALLO: Oh, good. I hope I'll see you at school tomorrow, Sydney, assuming you feel better. SYDNEY: ... I should be back tomorrow. Thanks, Callo. CALLO: (warmly) Of course, Sydney. Take care of yourself, okay? SYDNEY: I'm trying. CALLO: ... Sydney, are you sure you're all right? (SYDNEY bites his lower lip, stifling an outburst. After a long silent moment:) CALLO: (with some alarm) Sydney? SYDNEY: Yes. Yes. I'm sorry, I'm all right. I've just... taken a lot of cough syrup, and I'm feeling kind of dopey. CALLO: Ohh, I see. I hope the medicine works. See you tomorrow... bye bye! SYDNEY: Bye, Callo. (They both hang up the phone. CALLO sits in the phone nook for a moment, looking bemused again, pondering the strange conversation; SYDNEY scrubs his eyes with the palms of his hands, and shortly thereafter startles himself by bursting into rueful laughter.) SYDNEY: Oh, this is SO fucked. (And SYDNEY pads off down the hallway, hiking up his sweatpants as he goes.) (SCENE: Mr. BARDORBA's classroom, Thursday morning, ten minutes before the tardy bell. As always, CALLO is already here, wearing a hunter-green shirtwaist dress and a green tartan hair ribbon; HARDIN, wearing an overdyed burgundy denim shirt and black pants, has arrived a bit early and is in his usual seat.) CALLO: ... so it sounds like they're both coming. HARDIN: That's great! This will certainly be... interesting, if nothing else. (CALLO laughs and pokes HARDIN, who grins, abashed.) CALLO: Silly. By the way, I like your shirt; is it new? HARDIN: Oh, this? Yeah, my mother gave it to me for my birthday... CALLO: It suits you! Burgundy is a nice color for you... (HARDIN flushes. CALLO smiles. Just then, SYDNEY appears in the doorway, peering into the classroom nervously. He's wearing a soft red shirt with full sleeves, an off-white silk vest, and a pair of baggy dark indigo jeans. It's obvious that he's taken some pains with his appearance today, despite his reasonably casual attire; his hair has been brushed until it gleams, his nails appear to be freshly trimmed and buffed, and a heavy gold bracelet winks from under the cuffs of his shirt. CALLO smiles and waves at SYDNEY, who smiles back after a moment and enters.) CALLO: Good morning, Sydney! Wow, I like your vest... SYDNEY: Why, thank you, Miss Callo! You're welcome to borrow it any time you like! (CALLO laughs. SYDNEY grins crookedly and winks at CALLO.) CALLO: You'd better be careful, Sydney, I might take you up on that! SYDNEY: Gracious! John, protect me from your second-in-command, she has indecent intentions upon my wardrobe! HARDIN: Ha. As if I could protect anyone from Callo! (CALLO blushes and laughs, and HARDIN and SYDNEY laugh with her.) SYDNEY: Ah, well, please pardon me, milady, m'lord, but I think I'd like to be in my seat and inconspicuous before Romeo arrives. CALLO: Oooh. Yes. Good idea. Go, go. (SYDNEY heads off, slipping into his usual seat, and hunkering down
slightly, striving to be as close to invisible as possible. A few moments
later, ROMEO and SAMANTHA enter, in their usual manner. SAMANTHA is wearing
a short white sweater-dress that shows off her late-season tan to advantage,
white hose, and white flats. She also has a heavy gold class ring, far
too big for her, on a thin gold chain about her neck. ROMEO is wearing
loose black pants and a light blue shirt, sleeves once again rolled up
to his elbows. The scabbed cut on his earlobe is starting to flake, just
a little, and looks unpleasant. He's ignoring it, and so is SAMANTHA. Without
noticing SYDNEY, they slide into their usual seats. SAMANTHA is giggling
and blushing over something that ROMEO just said, and ROMEO is grinning.
It's a pretty nasty grin.)
ROMEO: (under his breath) Goddamn faggot. (Less than a minute before the bell rings, ASHLEY appears at the door, wearing a military-style olive drab shirt and a pair of heavy tan cargo pants. ASHLEY and SYDNEY spot each other at the very same moment; ASHLEY swallows, nervously, and SYDNEY suddenly becomes very interested in the book on his desk, although his ears turn red. After a frozen moment, ASHLEY forces himself to move, and he slowly heads towards his seat. SYDNEY is still studiously feigning interest in the book as ASHLEY sits down. Once ASHLEY is seated, though, SYDNEY speaks.) SYDNEY: (quietly)... about the other night... I'm sorry. ASHLEY: Don't worry about it. SYDNEY: No, I'm going to worry about it. I'm really fucking sorry. After that spiel I gave you... ASHLEY: Look, for right now, just don't worry about it. We'll talk about it later, okay? SYDNEY: ... gonna kill me? ASHLEY: I don't think so. (SYDNEY sighs deeply and covers his eyes with his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose in his usual manner. After a moment, he essays a brief, weak laugh.) SYDNEY: ... I'm such a fucking idiot. ASHLEY: Well, yeah, but you're very good at being an idiot. SYDNEY: Mmf. Supportive. ASHLEY: Eh. You did tell me your mouth was always getting you into trouble. (Pause. Suddenly, the entire classroom is startled by SYDNEY whooping with uncontrollable semi-hysterical laughter. He keeps laughing until he has to put his head down on his desk, his shoulders shaking. After a moment, ASHLEY gives in and starts laughing too. This does not go over well with certain members of the class; ROMEO growls and looks away, and ROSENCRANTZ's stare is venomous. But for the moment, SYDNEY and ASHLEY are oblivious. The bell rings, and the red-faced SYDNEY manages to get himself back under some semblance of control as Mr. BARDORBA arrives.) MR. BARDORBA: Good morning, class. Again, don't forget the test on Monday... now then. (SYDNEY snorts once or twice, helplessly. ASHLEY grins and punches SYDNEY lightly on the shoulder, then they both settle down, more or less. Both of them keep grinning like idiots for most of the period, though.) (SCENE: After school, outside the drama room. SYDNEY is here, leaning against the wall. He's picked a sheltered spot from which he isn't all that noticeable, and he watches people go in and out of the drama room. Shortly, ROSENCRANTZ appears, each arm around a different giggling blushing girl. One of the girls has on his sunglasses, and both girls have their arms around ROSENCRANTZ's waist. All three stop at the door to the drama room; then with a burst of giggles, ROSENCRANTZ maneuvers them sideways so that the trio can enter the room without unlocking arms. SYDNEY snorts and grins, just a little. Suddenly, a hand falls lightly on SYDNEY's shoulder, causing SYDNEY to jump and emit a little shriek.) ASHLEY: (grinning) Waiting for someone? SYDNEY: (quickly recovering) Oh, gracious, I think I just aged about ten years... I thought you were Romeo come to defend Samantha's virtue upon my body again! ASHLEY: I think I'm insulted! SYDNEY: Here now, I could have confused you for Rosey instead. ASHLEY: Ouch. If you did that I'd have no choice but to beat hell out of you myself, save Romeo the trouble... SYDNEY: (sobering just a bit) But, anyway, speaking of Rosey, he's already in there... ASHLEY: (finishing SYDNEY's thought) ... so we'll just stay out HERE for a few more minutes. (ASHLEY and SYDNEY both grin at each other; but after a moment, SYDNEY's grin slips, and then so does ASHLEY's. They're left gazing at each other, both looking pretty uncomfortable. ASHLEY shifts his grip on the strap of his backpack. SYDNEY pulls off his little gold spectacles and makes a show of cleaning them. After a moment:) SYDNEY: ... or maybe we ought to skip drama club today. ASHLEY: ... yeah. I think we do need to talk. SYDNEY: You can tell how much I'm looking forward to this, can't you? ASHLEY: Oh, believe me, I hear that. Let's just go get something to eat, okay? SYDNEY: ... yeah. (cheerful with an effort) I have the most sinful craving for french fries and a repellently sugary soft drink... ASHLEY: Not repellently sugary coffee? SYDNEY: Not with french fries, man! Are you a heathen? (A burst of raucous ROSENCRANTZ laughter, augmented by the giggling of multiple girls, rolls out of the drama room. SYDNEY and ASHLEY both wince simultaneously.) SYDNEY: Leaving now! ASHLEY: What a good idea! (SCENE: A small, nondescript shopping center, containing a couple of fast food places. Across the street we can see one end of ASHLEY's apartment complex. Shortly, SYDNEY's motorbike pulls in and up to the Wendy's there. ASHLEY looks even more uncomfortable than usual about holding on to SYDNEY while he drives, but neither of them says anything about it.) SYDNEY: I approve! I myself think that fat french fries are infinitely superior... ASHLEY: As long as they're fresh, of course. SYDNEY: (snotty voice) Oh, indubitably, young man. One cannot enjoy the bounties of nature properly unless they are utterly fresh. ASHLEY: ... french fries are a bounty of nature? SYDNEY: Oh, work with me here! (Still bantering, albeit in a slightly strained manner, ASHLEY and SYDNEY enter the restaurant. The place is almost deserted, since it's three in the afternoon. In short order ASHLEY finds himself carrying a large tray and following SYDNEY, who's holding two enormous soft drinks. SYDNEY leads them to a tiny table in a corner of the restaurant, which is as private as a fast-food joint is likely to get. Both boys slide into their seats. SYDNEY promptly grabs the three large cardboard boxes of fries and dumps their contents onto the tray, creating a huge mound of food, and waves the salt and pepper shakers over the pile at random until ASHLEY bats his hands away. Then SYDNEY dashes off and returns with four or five little paper cups full of ketchup and two straws, and the two boys settle down to their food.) SYDNEY: So you're going to John's on Saturday, right? ASHLEY: Yeah. You? SYDNEY: Yeah. I can't really afford to fail that test... ASHLEY: I do need the help, that's for sure... but I don't know about this. I mean, John... SYDNEY: No, no, it's not like you think. John's a good guy, once you get past the student-council rah-rah crap. He's only stiff until he gets to know you. ASHLEY: ... SYDNEY: And he loosens up considerably when Callo's around, too. Neither of them are particularly wild and crazy, but... well, they're good people, you know? ASHLEY: I've got to admit, that sounds really weird coming from you... SYDNEY: Oh, what? Just because I'm a bisexual thespian with a snappy fashion sense, I'm not supposed to appreciate the squares? ASHLEY: ... tell me you didn't just say squares? SYDNEY: Hush. It's retro. ASHLEY: Oh. Retro. SYDNEY: Shaddap. Anyway, I guess what I'm trying to say is that they're nice, and they'll help you if you need it, and if they're not a LOT of fun, they're... sufficient fun. ASHLEY: Unlike Rosey. SYDNEY: Yeah. Rosey is a wild ride. ASHLEY: ... SYDNEY: Oh god, no, I didn't mean that like it sounded. I swear I've never had sex with Rosey. (ASHLEY comes very close to coughing Dr Pepper out of his nose.) ASHLEY: Aw god, I could have lived without that mental image... (SYDNEY grins.) SYDNEY: (insincerely) I'm so terribly sorry. ASHLEY: I bet you are. Asshole. SYDNEY: Not that Rosey hasn't tried, mind you. (ASHLEY, in the middle of swallowing a french fry, goes into another massive coughing fit. SYDNEY reaches over and pounds ASHLEY on the back until ASHLEY stops coughing and swats at SYDNEY.) ASHLEY: Quit hitting me, I'm fine. SYDNEY: Really? Sounded to me like you were choking to death. ASHLEY: Hah. So Rosey's not your type, then? SYDNEY: Oh GOD no. He's entertaining to hang around with, and he's not bad-looking if you like the Slippery Gigolo Ferret look, but he's a mean little fucker, really. ASHLEY: I noticed. SYDNEY: ... really, you have no idea. Trust me. ASHLEY: ... how do you mean? (SYDNEY's eyes slide away from ASHLEY's.) SYDNEY: Uh... that's kind of getting into 'I'd rather not say' territory. (ASHLEY stares at SYDNEY for a moment. SYDNEY busies himself eating french fries, not looking at ASHLEY.) ASHLEY: I suppose if you'd rather not say, we can always talk about the other thing. SYDNEY: ... oh god. Painful choice. Very painful. ASHLEY: No, no, I'm not trying to force you into either. Never mind. SYDNEY: You're right, though. We need to talk about it. Mind if I go first? ASHLEY: ... go ahead. (ASHLEY picks up a french fry and nibbles on it, gazing at SYDNEY. SYDNEY fidgets uncomfortably, knots his fingers together, and begins.) SYDNEY: ... I know I said it already, but I'm really sorry. You asked me to TELL you, not SHOW you... I mean, you're not interested. I know that. I swear, I promise, I won't do it again. Please don't hate me. You can hit me if you want. ASHLEY: (after a brief pause) Why are you always telling me I can hit you? Honestly, it's like you want me to or something. SYDNEY: (aggrieved) Well, look at me, Ash! I'm short, I'm skinny, I'm pale, I'm weird, and I always have been! You know what that means? It means that people used to beat me up in third grade just because they felt like it! So I hate it, sure, but I'm used to it, okay? It's how people usually react to me! (ASHLEY sits back in his chair, looking startled.) ASHLEY: Whoa. SYDNEY: ... sorry. I'm a bit overwrought. ASHLEY: ... yeah... (SYDNEY covers his eyes with one hand again, in that familiar gesture.) SYDNEY: ... I guess I'm done. Which makes it your turn. Go ahead, give me your best shot. (Silence. Then ASHLEY's hand whips out and grabs SYDNEY's wrist, pulling his hand away from his eyes. SYDNEY blinks at ASHLEY, startled. ASHLEY doesn't let go.) ASHLEY: For god's sake, look at me. I know you're embarrassed, I know how you feel, but don't just hide back there behind your hand and wait to be hit! God! (SYDNEY just continues to blink at ASHLEY, agog.) ASHLEY: I don't hate you! I mean, sure, you scared the hell out of me, and it wasn't anything I was particularly expecting, but I can forgive you, if you're worried about that! It's not like... not like you did it to hurt me or anything, right? (ASHLEY's hand clenches painfully on SYDNEY's wrist as ASHLEY gets carried away with his explanation. SYDNEY's mouth opens in a soundless shriek, but only the faintest 'aaa' sound actually issues from him. ASHLEY, talking, doesn't notice SYDNEY's face, or the cry.) ASHLEY: I'm not gay. I'm NOT. But I'm not one of those homophobic assholes who runs around punching his friends on the shoulder and calling everybody a 'faggot', okay? You kissed me, and maybe I didn't want that, but I'm not going to freak! (ASHLEY's knuckles are white on SYDNEY's wrist, and his arm is shaking. SYDNEY is obviously in an immense amount of pain, but he can't seem to move, or say anything, or yell. He just sits there, turning a really unpleasant milk-white shade, with his mouth hanging open in an aborted shriek. ASHLEY has his eyes closed, is gesticulating with his free hand, and is, in general, indeed freaking.) ASHLEY: So please stop acting like you're the world's biggest loser! Quit apologizing! It's okay, okay? I forgive you!... Sydney? Oh, shit! (ASHLEY yanks his hand back. SYDNEY immediately wraps his own hand around his injured wrist and cradles it to his chest, biting his lower lip. Twin tears track down SYDNEY's face from his eyes, which are squeezed shut. ASHLEY looks like someone just slapped him.) ASHLEY: Oh, fuck... Sydney, I'm sorry! SYDNEY: (wavering choked voice) It's okay, it's okay, I'll be okay... ow... ASHLEY: God, now I'm the idiot... look, come on, let's go to my place and I'll get you an icepack, okay? (SYDNEY, still cradling his wrist, manages to nod. He's still crying. ASHLEY stands up and slides his hand under SYDNEY's good arm, helping SYDNEY stand up. SYDNEY is a bit wobble-legged, but ASHLEY catches him, and they stumble from the restaurant together.) ASHLEY: Just leave the bike here... (They quickly cross the street into ASHLEY's apartment complex, ASHLEY more than half-supporting the stumbling SYDNEY. Within a minute, they're at the door of ASHLEY's apartment. SYDNEY is still chalk-white and clutching at his wrist, and ASHLEY can feel him shaking. ASHLEY digs his keys out of his pocket one-handed and fumbles the door open. As fast as he can, he guides SYDNEY to the couch, then races back and locks the front door. Against SYDNEY's pallor, both natural and unnatural, it's easy to see that his wrist is already turning several shades of purple.) ASHLEY: Oh geez... okay, just sit there, I'll be right back. (SYDNEY nods. He's shaking visibly, still holding his wrist against his chest. ASHLEY dashes off down the short hallway, returning after a moment with a plastic wrist brace and an ace bandage.) ASHLEY: Here, give me your hand. (After a moment, SYDNEY reluctantly lowers his hand. As gently as he can, ASHLEY slides the wrist brace onto SYDNEY's hand, eliciting a yelp.) ASHLEY: I'm sorry! (Quickly, biting his lower lip, ASHLEY wraps the bandage around the brace to hold it in place. Every turn of the bandage makes SYDNEY whimper, and tears squeeze out of his eyes, one after the other. After what seems like an interminable length of time, the wrist is bandaged, and ASHLEY clips the end of the bandage down.) ASHLEY: Okay, just let your hand lie in your lap, I'll be right back. (ASHLEY races into the kitchen. SYDNEY closes his eyes and leans back into the couch cushions, wrapping his good arm around his shoulders. There is a prolonged clattering sound, and then ASHLEY reappears, in the process of wrapping a dishcloth around a large Ziploc bag filled with ice.) ASHLEY: Here... (ASHLEY carefully puts the icepack down on SYDNEY's wrist. SYDNEY hisses at the pressure, but after a moment, he calms back down, the bag and his wrist cradled in his lap. SYDNEY scrubs at his face with the heel of his good hand, erasing the tear tracks. ASHLEY watches SYDNEY, looking very worried.) SYDNEY: ... ow? ASHLEY: Damn, I'm really sorry. SYDNEY: It's okay, I-I kind of deserved that... (ASHLEY blinks.) ASHLEY: (vehemently) You did not! God, to deserve that you'd have to... I don't know. But you'd have to do more than kiss me and then get embarrassed about it! (SYDNEY laughs, weakly.) SYDNEY: Okay, okay, I'll stop with the self-bashing. You're a good nurse, though... ASHLEY: Heh. Well. Mom's prepared for pretty much everything... I've got to admit, I'm not really sure you need the brace or anything, but you definitely need the ice pack... aaah fuck, I feel really bad. SYDNEY: Well, I, I don't want to make you leap to my defense again, so let's just say we're both sorry and we're both forgiven and, you know, drop it?... do you have a blanket or anything? I'm really cold... ASHLEY: Yeah... here, let's go on back to my room and you can lay down, too. You look pretty damn ragged. SYDNEY: I feel pretty damn ragged, too. God, why can't I stop shaking? ASHLEY: ... shock, probably. SYDNEY: Oh. (SYDNEY wobbles to his feet. Unfortunately, he seems to be even wobblier than he thought, and he nearly falls down. ASHLEY lunges forward and catches SYDNEY before he falls, but the ice pack plonks wetly to the ground. Neither boy really notices... SYDNEY is still lost in the grips of mild shock and pain, and ASHLEY is concerned mostly with keeping SYDNEY on his feet. After a moment, the initial danger passes, and ASHLEY starts trying to pick up the ice pack without letting go of SYDNEY. It's not working.) ASHLEY: ... fuck it. SYDNEY: I can... I can get it... (SYDNEY leans forward to try and pick up the ice pack, and nearly falls over again in the process. ASHLEY catches SYDNEY again.) ASHLEY: No you can't. I'll come back for it. Hold on. (Keeping one arm around SYDNEY's shoulders, ASHLEY swoops down. Before SYDNEY's groggy mind can quite figure out what's going on, ASHLEY has picked him up in both arms, and SYDNEY is in midair, cradled against ASHLEY's chest, blinking.) SYDNEY: I... I can probably walk... ASHLEY: I don't think you can. Damn, you don't look this heavy... SYDNEY: (automatically, by rote) What? I'll have you know I've kept my girlish figure! (ASHLEY snorts, carrying SYDNEY down the short hallway. SYDNEY closes his eyes and leans his head against ASHLEY's shoulder. He's still shaking pretty badly. Fortunately, it's a short hallway, and soon enough they're in ASHLEY's room. ASHLEY lays SYDNEY down on the bed and pulls the covers up over him.) ASHLEY: I'll be right back. SYDNEY: ... 'kay... (ASHLEY races back into the other room and retrieves the icepack. Going back to his bedroom, he tucks the melting icepack carefully around SYDNEY's upraised wrist. SYDNEY hisses, a little, but he seems to be in less pain. He gazes up at ASHLEY with half-lidded, sleepy eyes, as the shock begins to wear off.) ASHLEY: There. Try and get a little sleep, okay? I'll shake you in an hour... SYDNEY: Yeah... feel a little sleepy... thanks for tucking me in... ASHLEY: Heh. Welcome. No goodnight kiss, though. SYDNEY: Aww... woulda made it... all worthwhile... (SYDNEY closes his eyes, missing the saddened expression on ASHLEY's face, and snuggles down under the covers, clumsily kicking his shoes off and pushing them out to thump onto the floor. As far as ASHLEY can tell, he's asleep within moments. ASHLEY continues to stare down at the sleeping SYDNEY for a minute, still looking concerned.) ASHLEY: (under his breath) Damn, Sydney. Damn... (Biting his lower lip, ASHLEY reaches down and brushes a stray lock of hair off SYDNEY's forehead. Then he mentally shakes himself, snaps off the bedside light, and heads out into the other room to fetch his backpack.) (SCENE: About half an hour later, in ASHLEY's bedroom. Heavy thunderclouds have rolled in, and the faintest rumbles of thunder sound in the distance. SYDNEY cracks one eye open. He can see ASHLEY sitting at the desk under a small desklamp, doing his homework. ASHLEY is in the center of a small pool of light, but the rest of the room is gloomy and dark with the oncoming storm. SYDNEY's wrist throbs, dully, but it doesn't really hurt much any more. Then he tries to move his arm, and whimpers. ASHLEY's head jerks up.) ASHLEY: Sydney? Are you okay? (ASHLEY stands up and crosses from the small pool of light to the bed, hunkering down by SYDNEY. It's kind of hard to tell in the gloom, but he still looks worried.) SYDNEY: ... yeah, I think so... as long as I don't move my arm... geez, I'm so cold... ASHLEY: Still? SYDNEY: Think it's got something to do with this big bag of ice sitting on my arm... ASHLEY: Heh, yeah, I guess it might at that... I'm really sorry. SYDNEY: Now who's apologizing too much? ASHLEY: Hey now, don't tempt me to hit an invalid! SYDNEY: Why not? I told you you could... (ASHLEY groans.) ASHLEY: DAMMIT, Sydney. Will you stop with that? I'm not going to hit you, you don't deserve to be hit, and I doubt you've ever really deserved to be hit in your life, okay? SYDNEY: ... not even when I kissed Romeo's girlfriend on the hand? ASHLEY: Hardly. Having a death wish is no reason to get hit. (SYDNEY grins, weakly. After a moment, ASHLEY grins back.) ASHLEY: ... but since you want me to hit you so bad, I guess I better... (ASHLEY's hand flies up, and SYDNEY's eyes fly open wide before they wince shut. After a breathless moment, SYDNEY feels, instead of a playful blow, ASHLEY's hand settling gently onto his cheek and resting there.) ASHLEY: (very softly) Bad boy. (SYDNEY has stopped breathing, although he opens his eyes to stare at ASHLEY. Neither boy moves, and ASHLEY leaves his hand where it is. After a moment, remembering to breathe, SYDNEY brings his good hand up and covers ASHLEY's. The silence extends for almost a minute, SYDNEY and ASHLEY staring at each other, SYDNEY startled, ASHLEY extremely grave. Finally, weakly:) SYDNEY: ... not that I mind, but what exactly are you doing? (ASHLEY brings up his free hand and pushes his bangs back, laughing a little. After a moment, the bangs flop back down into his eyes, and SYDNEY's heart thumps hard, once.) ASHLEY: I have absolutely no fucking idea. SYDNEY: Well, don't let me stop you, please, but are you sure this is a good idea? ASHLEY: No. No, I'm really not. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. (SYDNEY closes his eyes, his good hand closing about ASHLEY's.) SYDNEY: If you're doing this to try and apologize or something... ASHLEY: I don't know. I really don't. SYDNEY: I... ASHLEY: Just... shut up and enjoy it before I come to my senses, okay? SYDNEY: (quietly) Good idea. (And SYDNEY does. A minute or so passes. ASHLEY can feel SYDNEY shaking, but whether it's from pain, shock, cold, or something else, he doesn't know. A couple of minutes later:) ASHLEY: ... I hate to say this, but... SYDNEY: ... you've come to your senses? ASHLEY: ... well, no, but my knees hurt... SYDNEY: Oh. (SYDNEY lets go of ASHLEY's hand, reluctantly. ASHLEY stands up, his knees popping, and stretches his arms up above his head. SYDNEY sighs at the loss and closes his eyes, only to have them fly open again a second later as he feels the bed groan under ASHLEY's weight. SYDNEY lies completely still as ASHLEY climbs over him, fitting himself between SYDNEY and the wall. ASHLEY gently spoons his chest against SYDNEY's back, on top of the covers that SYDNEY is underneath, and wraps his arm around SYDNEY's chest. SYDNEY just lies there in the gloom, shaking, and not entirely from the cold.) ASHLEY: You ARE cold. SYDNEY: ... am I? I hadn't noticed... (ASHLEY laughs softly. SYDNEY inches backwards slightly, trying to net himself more body contact.) SYDNEY: I'm just so positively sure that this is a mistake... ASHLEY: Oh, yeah, it definitely is. I really have no fucking idea what I'm thinking. But it still seems like the right thing to do, and plus, you're hurt, so you're not going to be taking too much advantage of the situation... SYDNEY: (with feeling) Damn! (ASHLEY laughs. After a moment, so does SYDNEY. And then they both fall silent, neither one moving. After a moment, they can both hear the first few drops of rain pattering on the window. ASHLEY seems to drift off after a moment, or at least, his breathing grows deep and regular... but SYDNEY lies there, wide awake, unbelieving of his immense good fortune. Every nerve in his body is on edge; he can feel ASHLEY's breath faintly on the back of his neck, and every inch of skin that's in contact with ASHLEY tingles.) SYDNEY: (under his breath) Damn, I hope this moment never ends... ASHLEY: (from behind him) Unfortunately, you have to go home at some point. (SYDNEY jumps, just a little, then laughs ruefully.) SYDNEY: God. I thought you were asleep. ASHLEY: Call me weird, but I'm in bed with another guy who's admitted that he finds me attractive. It's just NOT conducive to sleep. SYDNEY: ... I'm so terribly sorry. ASHLEY: Shut up. SYDNEY: Yessir. (The blissful moments drag on, quietly. After a few minutes, SYDNEY stops shaking entirely. The rain outside picks up, becoming a steady hammering on the window, and there's the faintest hint of thunder, far away. SYDNEY doesn't dare close his eyes, for fear that he'll fall asleep and miss some of this, so he stares at the wall opposite the bed. ASHLEY's presence behind him is warm and reassuring. After about fifteen minutes:) ASHLEY: (quietly) Sydney? SYDNEY: (equally quietly) Mmm? ASHLEY: I... I really don't know what I'm doing, here... I mean, this is nice... SYDNEY: God, yes, it is. ASHLEY: ... heh... but, I, I mean, holding you like this is kind of nice, but the thought of kissing you still really disturbs me... and I'm really, really freaked about the idea of... you know... dating you or something. SYDNEY: ... I understand that. I'm not going to expect anything of you. ASHLEY: Of course, two days ago the thought of touching you like this at all would have really really disturbed me... SYDNEY: Shh. I know. Look, I've been through that too, you know? Take all the time you need to think about this. And if... if you decide that you don't like it, then we'll just pretend this never happened, okay? ASHLEY: ... you're really calm about this. SYDNEY: Are you kidding? Every nerve in my body is on edge. I'm terrified. Not to mention thrilled to the very core of my being. But... I mean, the last thing I want is for you to do something and then feel bad about it, and hate me. ASHLEY: ... god. You really have thought this shit out. SYDNEY: ... yeah, I mean... I've been there, okay? I've been where you are. Well, not literally, you're the first guy I've ever snuggled with in your room, but you know what I mean. (ASHLEY snorts a quiet laugh.) SYDNEY: For right now, though, I'm content to lay here and hope desperately that you don't let me go. ASHLEY: ... I think I can handle that much. SYDNEY: Good. Oh, good. (SYDNEY closes his eyes, finally. After a moment, so does ASHLEY. The next hour or so passes slowly and quietly, both boys lying silent in the gloom and listening to the rain, occasionally shifting slightly. Both ASHLEY and SYDNEY drift in and out of consciousness, ever conscious of the warmth of each other. Finally:) ASHLEY: (quietly) Sydney? SYDNEY: (half-asleep) Mmmmm. ASHLEY: As much as I hate to say it... SYDNEY: Awww, no. ASHLEY: Yeah, but it's almost six... you're probably going to have to head home soon... (SYDNEY groans.) SYDNEY: I SO do not want to get up and go home right now. ASHLEY: Yeah, but you know, if my mom comes home and finds us like this... plus your parents are going to wonder where you are. SYDNEY: ... argh. You're right. (ASHLEY, tousled, sits up and slides off the end of the bed. After another moment, SYDNEY sits up, plucking the now completely melted icepack off his wrist and wincing.) ASHLEY: How's the wrist? SYDNEY: Numb. Cold. A bit throbby. But it doesn't really hurt any more. ASHLEY: That's good... keep the brace and bandage, okay? You should probably wear them for a couple of days. SYDNEY: Yeah, good idea. Let me go freshen up a bit before I one-handedly drive my bike home in the driving rain! ASHLEY: ... the sympathy ploy is NOT working, you know. SYDNEY: Hey, it was worth a try. ASHLEY: Heh. (SYDNEY reclaims his shoes and wanders off into the bathroom, clumsily straightening his sadly ragged ponytail and yanking most of the wrinkles out of his clothes. He then spends a full minute just staring at himself in the mirror, watching his eyes sparkle and grinning to himself. Finally, he heaves a deep breath and heads back out. The lights are on in ASHLEY's bedroom now, but ASHLEY isn't in there... SYDNEY finds him in the main room.) SYDNEY: All fresh, reasonably... ASHLEY: In all seriousness, are you going to be able to get home okay? I don't know how to drive your bike, or I'd offer to help you get it home... SYDNEY: Nah, I'll be okay. I'll go really slow, and it's pretty much all back roads from your place to mine. ASHLEY: Okay. Try not to get killed, it'll give me all sorts of angst. SYDNEY: Oooh, wouldn't want that. ASHLEY: I'm so glad we're in agreement. (SYDNEY grabs his backpack from by the front door, where he dropped it on the way in. ASHLEY walks over to the front door and undoes all the locks, but doesn't open the door yet.) SYDNEY: I'll see you tomorrow? ASHLEY: Yeah. ... listen, I'll... I'll give it some thought, okay? SYDNEY: I... I'd like that. There's no hurry. ASHLEY: Yeah. That's good. You know, acting normal in front of John and Callo is going to be interesting... SYDNEY: Oh, bah. I'm a brilliant actor! Just follow my lead. ASHLEY: Hah. SYDNEY: (a bit recklessly) So, are you going to get out of my way, or am I trapped? ASHLEY: ... I know which answer you'd prefer, I think. (And with that, ASHLEY opens the front door, bowing SYDNEY out with a certain ironic grace. The rain has, in truth, almost ended, and the cool oncoming night sparkles. SYDNEY heads out the door, stopping only to ruffle ASHLEY's bangs, like he did the first time they met. ASHLEY grins and swats at SYDNEY, who smirks and runs off into the night. After a long moment, in the distance, we hear a faint happy whoop. ASHLEY leans against the door and laughs, hard. Then he pulls the door shut, locks it, and heads back to his room, sitting down at his desk. He makes a desultory effort to complete his math homework, but ends up sitting there and staring into space for several minutes, before shoving the homework aside. Pulling the small journal from his backpack, he opens it to a blank page. After a moment, he starts writing, his brow creased in concentration.) (SCENE: MR. BARDORBA's classroom, the next morning. It's a crisp cool
fall Friday, so the hallways are swathed with school spirit posters for
tomorrow's football game, and there's a pep rally scheduled this afternoon.
It becomes very obvious that the Lea Monde Wyverns' colors are light blue
and purple on white.)
HARDIN: I'm so glad it's Friday... CALLO: Oh, I know what you mean. I've had two tests this week, and we've got the History test on Monday... I'm so glad it's almost the weekend. HARDIN: Two? Ouch. I feel your pain. CALLO: Oh, that reminds me... do you need me to bring anything tomorrow? Munchies, drinks? HARDIN: I think we've got plenty, but more couldn't hurt... I don't need anything in particular, but if you want to bring something, feel free. CALLO: Oh, I probably will, you know how I am. HARDIN: I do, I do. (CALLO smiles. Just then SYDNEY bounces in. Even SYDNEY has made a nod to school colors, in his own fashion: a vibrant purple turtleneck, with black jeans, and a truly amazing calf-length black denim trenchcoat that bells out around the bottom as he walks. His ponytail has a length of brilliant purple ribbon tied around it, to match the turtleneck, and purple socks peek out between the junction of his jeans and his clonky-footed black Docs. The fingerless black leather gloves are firmly in place. He prances over to CALLO and HARDIN, who both start laughing. Oblivious, SYDNEY pirouettes in place, causing the trenchcoat to bell out to its limits; then without stopping he sweeps into a deep theatrical bow.) SYDNEY: (singing) Gooooood morning to you, lady and gentleman! CALLO: (laughing) Sydney, what on earth...? SYDNEY: Oh, I have no idea. I just woke up in the most WONDERFUL mood... maybe it's the weather. I love fall! I love the cool weather! I love getting to wear this coat! HARDIN: You best be careful, or Callo will steal that coat right off your back... SYDNEY: (mock shriek) Nooooo! Anything but that! Take my home, take my wallet, take my virginity, but leave my poor coat alone! (CALLO started turning red right on cue, at the word 'virginity'. But she's laughing hard, and so is HARDIN. SYDNEY beams at them both, radiating good cheer and cheeky sincerity.) CALLO: I don't know what's gotten into you today, Sydney, but I hope it gets into you more often... SYDNEY: Or I get into it more often, right? Oh my gosh, I hope so too! (SYDNEY winks lewdly at CALLO, who doesn't seem to get the joke but blushes anyway.) SYDNEY: Anyway, I shall leave you two to your business... tomorrow at noon at your place, correct, John? HARDIN: Absolutely. We'll order pizza for lunch or something. Bring your notes! SYDNEY: Notes! I have notes? Gracious! (And with that, SYDNEY bounces off, flopping down in his chair and grinning
like an idiot at nothing. CALLO and HARDIN laugh themselves out, then turn
to their usual activities, still smiling.)
HARDIN: Don't forget, tomorrow at noon! ASHLEY: Oh, that's right, I need to find out where you live... CALLO: I can come pick you up, if you need it? ASHLEY: Nah, there's no need. It's Saturday, I can probably get the car. HARDIN: Here, I'll draw you a map... (HARDIN pulls a piece of paper out of one of his notebooks and scribbles a quick map on it.) HARDIN: I don't know where you're coming from, so I'll just map it from the school... how's that? (ASHLEY glances at the map.) ASHLEY: Yeah, I think I can find this. Cool. I'll see you guys tomorrow, then. (ASHLEY stuffs the map into his hip pocket and heads back to his seat. SYDNEY grins at him as he flops down into his seat.) SYDNEY: Good morning! Can I have your boots? Like, right now? Just pull 'em off and hand 'em over, and no one gets hurt... ASHLEY: Don't you touch my boots. SYDNEY: Awww, please? What if I offer to trade you? (SYDNEY holds up one clonky foot and wiggles it.) ASHLEY: But I already HAVE Docs. Yours are probably two sizes too small for me anyway. SYDNEY: Oh, well, I tried. Hey, I forgot to ask, do you need a ride to John's tomorrow? ASHLEY: Yeah... yeah, that'd be good. I can get the car if I have to, but I should probably leave it for Mom... SYDNEY: Cool. John says we'll probably order in pizza, so I'll pick you up around 11:30 or so... ASHLEY: That works. Try not to let my mom see your bike, though. If she finds out I've been riding a motorcycle at all, let alone without a helmet, she'll have about nine heart attacks... SYDNEY: Ouchie! Yeah, I guess as a nurse, she probably sees a lot of bike accidents... ASHLEY: Oh yeah. And she makes sure to tell me all the grisly details about every single one... SYDNEY: And that was such an effective deterrent! ASHLEY: Heh. I'll try to be waiting outside for you. SYDNEY: Awww, what, I can't come in and meet your mom? (SYDNEY suddenly drops his voice into a STARTLINGLY accurate mimicry of ASHLEY's voice.) SYDNEY: (ASHLEY-voice) Mom, this fabulously handsome man is Sydney, and we're madly in love! He's promised to marry me! (ASHLEY goggles at SYDNEY for a moment, then bursts out laughing.) ASHLEY: FOURTEEN heart attacks! SYDNEY: (ASHLEY-voice) And he's got this incredible motorcycle, Mom, you've got to see it... ASHLEY: Ack! That would make it, what, twenty-three heart attacks? SYDNEY: I think that's some kind of record! ASHLEY: For my mom? That's no record. Oh... uh... how's your wrist? SYDNEY: (cheerfully) Hurts like a bitch. I think my arm's going to fall off soon. Oh, and it's a lovely black and purple. Matches my outfit! (ASHLEY winces.) ASHLEY: Lovely. Guess I don't know my own strength. SYDNEY: Nah, I'm just a wimp. If you play your cards right, I'll show you the bruises after school. They're so LOVELY against my alabaster skin! (SYDNEY tugs down the sleeve of his coat and the sleeve of his turtleneck. The brace and bandage were almost completely hidden under the sleeves and the glove, but now the edges of the brace can be seen, complete with the tapering blueish edges of the bruise. ASHLEY winces again as SYDNEY covers it back up.) ASHLEY: Wow. I really pulled a 'Me Tarzan' thing there, didn't I? SYDNEY: Heh. Me Jane? Don't worry, no one will notice. I wore a turtleneck, so they'll all be trying to figure out who gave me a hickey instead of noticing my wrist. ASHLEY: Oh, yes, I'm SO much more interested in being thought of as the instigator of a Sydney hickey. (SYDNEY says nothing, just pulls a cat-faced smile at ASHLEY. After a moment, ASHLEY grins and scratches the back of his head, looking just a tad embarrassed. MR. BARDORBA enters the room, just then, right as the bell rings. ROSENCRANTZ is nowhere to be seen today. No one seems to care.) MR. BARDORBA: Okay, boys and girls. Don't forget the test on Monday... (SCENE: After school, in the drama room. SYDNEY is here, talking to MS. MULLENKAMP. Hardly anyone else is here; the daily club meeting won't start for another half an hour or so, and most of the other students are at the pep rally anyway. SYDNEY has just pulled the brace off his wrist to show MS. MULLENKAMP. MS. MULLENKAMP winces.) MS. MULLENKAMP: Yes, yes, definitely don't lift anything heavy today. Actually, maybe you should just go home and rest your hand... I don't think I have anything for you to do that doesn't involve manual labor of some sort. SYDNEY: Absolutely, I don't think lifting flats is in the cards for me today. (Now that we can see it, SYDNEY's wrist looks really awful. It's swollen to a vaguely loaf-like shape and swathed in purple-black bruises that extend about six inches down his wrist; upon closer examination we can easily make out the shapes of three fingers and a thumb. Either MS. MULLENKAMP didn't look closely enough to notice, or she's not going to mention it.) MS. MULLENKAMP: What happened, anyway? It looks really painful... SYDNEY: Just an accident... squashed my wrist. It doesn't hurt as bad as it looks. (ASHLEY appears at the door to the drama room, backpack over one shoulder as usual.) ASHLEY: Hey, Ms. Mullenkamp, S... oh ack, that looks godawful. (ASHLEY has, of course, just gotten his first look at SYDNEY's wrist since last night. SYDNEY grins and blushes a little, then slides the brace back onto his wrist.) SYDNEY: I'm going to go rewrap my wrist and go home, I think... MS. MULLENKAMP: Good idea. Get yourself under an ice pack. Try not to bang yourself up too much more, okay, Sydney? SYDNEY: Well, I'll try, but you know what a dangerous life I lead! MS. MULLENKAMP: Speaking of dangerous lives, where's Rosey today? SYDNEY: I have no idea. And frankly, I don't care. (MS. MULLENKAMP looks at SYDNEY for a moment. She's got that same bemused expression that CALLO gets sometimes, the look that says 'things are starting to add up and I'm not sure I like the sum'. After a moment:) MS. MULLENKAMP: Ah, that's a shame. His fanclub will be disappointed... SYDNEY: Some things they've got to learn to live with, I guess... I'll see you Monday, Ms. Mullenkamp. (SYDNEY sweeps into an abbreviated bow. MS. MULLENKAMP responds with a surprisingly graceful curtsy. Standing in the doorway, ASHLEY grins, pushing his fingers through his bangs. Shortly enough, of course, his bangs flop back down into his eyes.) SYDNEY: C'mon, Ash. Help me get this damn bandage back on. (And without further ado, SYDNEY curls the fingers of his good hand in the front of ASHLEY's sweater and starts dragging him off. ASHLEY splutters a little, but doesn't really fight it. Eventually, they find themselves in the nearby boys' bathroom. The tiny place is quiet, since most of the students are all the way across the school at the pep rally; the faint thump of the bass drums celebrating the football players can still, barely, be heard from here. Or, more accurately, felt, lightly reverberating in the chest.) SYDNEY: Let me see here... (SYDNEY holds out his hand, with the brace lying loosely on it, and digs the ace bandage out of his hip pocket. ASHLEY reaches out and takes SYDNEY's hand, but instead of taking the ace bandage, he gently pulls off the brace. SYDNEY winces.) ASHLEY: ... god. SYDNEY: ... are you beating yourself up over this again? Quit it. ASHLEY: Yeah, but... I mean... look at this! Looks like you slammed your wrist in a car door about five times... SYDNEY: ... (ASHLEY quietly lays his fingers over the finger-shaped bruises on SYDNEY's wrist, as gently as possible. His thumb slides around to fit over the other bruise. SYDNEY winces again.) ASHLEY: (shaky attempt at levity) Here I've only been at this school a week, and you've gotten to see me perpetrate physical violence on three people, one of them being you yourself... SYDNEY: (by rote, without even thinking about it) Yeah, but they all deserved it... (ASHLEY's eyes snap up to meet SYDNEY's, and ASHLEY's eyes are cold and furious. SYDNEY blinks, gulps, and turns paper-white, apprehensive, if not quite afraid. After just a moment, though, all the fury leaks away, to be replaced with a terribly blank sadness. ASHLEY releases SYDNEY's wrist with extreme gentleness and drops his eyes, staring at the floor.) ASHLEY: I wish you wouldn't put yourself down like that. SYDNEY: ... it's just habit... I don't mean anything by it. It's not like I really believe that shit... ASHLEY: Are you sure about that? I mean, really sure? (Without waiting for an answer, ASHLEY slides the brace back onto SYDNEY's wrist and accepts the bandage, swiftly winding it back into place and clipping the end down.) SYDNEY: ... damn, what's with the serious stuff today? I told you I hate that stuff... ASHLEY: ... sorry. SYDNEY: Trying to smear your angst on me. Quit that! ASHLEY: (rallying with an effort) Angst? I'm not the one wearing black! SYDNEY: You leave my sartorial excesses out of this! ASHLEY: Bah. Although, speaking of angst, I am glad to see that you didn't crash your bike and die last night. SYDNEY: Yeah, me too. I wouldn't have you holding my hand now. (SYDNEY beams at ASHLEY, who looks down, startled. Sure enough, he's still holding onto SYDNEY's bandaged wrist with both hands. Quickly, he yanks his hands away and turns red. SYDNEY's grin widens.) SYDNEY: (teasingly) Awww, darn. ASHLEY: Well, if you hadn't called my attention to it... (SYDNEY snaps his fingers.) SYDNEY: So, you going to see me home? ASHLEY: ... sure, why not? Unless you want to go to the pep rally, for whatever reason. SYDNEY: ... uh huh. Let's go to the one place in the world where Romeo is SURE to be, and get ourselves deafened in the process. ASHLEY: Heh. (SYDNEY pushes open the bathroom door and leaves in a swirl of coattails. ASHLEY follows.) (SCENE: A gently degenerating funky old neighborhood with the remnants of character. Heavy dark thunderclouds are gathering overhead, and the occasional rumble of thunder can be heard. SYDNEY's motorbike, with its two passengers, pulls up in front of a tall narrow white clapboard house, with brilliant blue shutters. The bike pulls into a narrow and mostly hidden driveway, and SYDNEY pulls into a small spot beside the garage just as the first raindrops begin to fall.) ASHLEY: Wow, this is a cool house... SYDNEY: It gets better! (SYDNEY bounces up to the back door, up three cracked concrete steps, and unlocks it. With a slight bow, he ushers ASHLEY into the house.) ASHLEY: ... whoa. (SYDNEY's house is a tall, narrow riot of weirdness. The main room is two stories tall, dominated by a monstrous brick fireplace that covers one entire wall, and lit by an immense skylight, currently dark and clouded. Whoever decorated this place had a strange, eclectic style, and enough money to indulge it; there are exotic masks and fetishes and trinkets and mirrors everywhere, seemingly jumbled together without any rhyme or reason, but the overall effect is perversely harmonious. A huge and apparently real zebra skin covers the floor right in front of the fireplace, ringed with black leather couches.) SYDNEY: Fun, isn't it? Mom's like that. (SYDNEY heads over to the fireplace and pulls a small bright orange note from the snarling mouth of a particularly fierce black wood mask. After skimming it:) SYDNEY: Huh. Cool. C'mon, I'll show you my room. (And without another word, he drops the note and his backpack on a narrow table and zips up the spiral staircase in one corner. ASHLEY goes over to the same table and puts his backpack down, quickly glancing at the note as he does. SYDNEY - GONE INTO THE CITY - SEEING A SHOW WITH DAD - BACK MIDNIGHT - BEHAVE - MOM. ASHLEY grins, especially at that last 'BEHAVE', and heads up the spiral staircase after SYDNEY.) (SCENE: SYDNEY's room. It probably looked very cool indeed before the tornado hit it. As it is, clothes are EVERYWHERE: on the narrow bed with its brilliant red sheets, all over the battered desk, on top of the torchiere lamp in the corner, mounded on the window seat, dangling from the bookcase. The walls have been painted glossy black, and what looks like a disassembled telephone has been carefully and artistically stapled to one wall, innards and cords spiraling out from it in a captured moment of destruction. A giant corkboard hangs on another wall, covered with photos and theatre programs and random high school-esque detritus.) ASHLEY: ... oh, very nice. SYDNEY: Shaddap. Just because you're a neat freak. ASHLEY: Black walls? SYDNEY: Uh... minor flirtation with Goth two years ago, laziness now? (ASHLEY grins, then wanders over to inspect the corkboard, stepping carefully around mounds of fabric. As ASHLEY's eyes move from left to right along the corkboard, SYDNEY joins him.) SYDNEY: There here on the left are freshman year... (Freshman year SYDNEY has short hair that pokes up in fluffy locks all over his head, almost completely normal clothes, and no spectacles. Most of the people in the pictures ASHLEY doesn't recognize, but he finds one with SYDNEY mugging for the camera at some party, with one arm around HARDIN. The freshman HARDIN has a side-parted businessman's haircut and an embarrassed grin on his face.) SYDNEY: Yeah, I know, poofy hair. These are sophomore year... (Sophomore SYDNEY is a revelation. His blond hair is cut short and slicked severely back, and he looks even paler than he does now, with incredibly prominent cheekbones and none-too-subtle eyeliner. He's wearing all white in every single picture, and his taste in clothing seems to run to ascots and waistcoats. This version of SYDNEY never smiles for the camera, instead seeming to run to a supercilious expression. Everyone he's with is similarly overdressed, although not usually in white. In the background of a couple of these pictures, we can see ROSENCRANTZ, with longer hair.) ASHLEY: ... SYDNEY: ... David Bowie period. Don't ask. Junior year... okay, so it wasn't that minor a flirtation with Goth... (Junior SYDNEY was, obviously, the Goth period. His shoulder-length straight hair is dyed black to make his skin look even paler, he's wearing even more eyeliner, and in at least two pictures SYDNEY is wearing an actual skirt. ASHLEY roots out one picture in particular: SYDNEY in full Goth drag, including boned corset and multilayered lace skirt, with his arms around, of all people, CALLO. Heavily made up, CALLO is wearing an incredible low-cut floor-length black satin gown, a billowing burgundy velvet cape, and a pointed black witch's hat. Both SYDNEY and CALLO are laughing. Hanging over CALLO's shoulder we can see HARDIN, dressed as a suave vampire in evening dress, with all his hair slicked back and his face powdered. HARDIN has his 'fangs' exposed, as if he's about to bite CALLO's neck.) ASHLEY: My God. Is that CALLO? And JOHN? SYDNEY: I told you she and John weren't that bad... that's Halloween, though. It's not like she dressed that way at school. And this is this year, so far... (There aren't many senior year pictures yet, but it's here that the little spectacles make their first appearance. In all these pictures, SYDNEY looks much like he does now, and ROSENCRANTZ appears in a lot of these latest pics. One picture in particular, half-hidden behind a bunch of others, catches ASHLEY's eye, and he digs it out.) SYDNEY: (embarrassed) Oh my god. (It's pretty obvious, from the composition of the photo, that someone stuck the camera into the boy's dressing room at arm's length, snapped the photo, and then probably ran for her life, giggling. In the background we can see ROSENCRANTZ, who appears to be wearing nothing at all, staring into the mirror and applying eyeliner. A couple of other boys are also in here, in various stages of undress, but in the foreground is SYDNEY. His face is covered with a blur of blond hair, but it's still obviously SYDNEY. Wearing only incredibly skimpy blue bikini briefs, SYDNEY appears to have been caught in mid-turn... his arms are up over his head, and one leg is blurred, as if it was moving when the picture was taken.) ASHLEY: Oh, this is cute! (SYDNEY covers his eyes, embarrassed and pink.) SYDNEY: She gave it to me after she got it developed... I only kept it to blackmail Rosey with... ASHLEY: Uh huh. SYDNEY: God. Please put that back. (ASHLEY grins and hides the picture under the others. SYDNEY coughs.) SYDNEY: ... well, there's obviously no place to sit in here. Let's go back downstairs... (SCENE: In the tall main room, about half an hour later. There is a fire burning in the fireplace now... well, actually, SYDNEY just touched a switch on the wall... and ASHLEY is sitting on one of the large couches, a can of Dr Pepper in his hand. SYDNEY is pacing back and forth on the zebra-skin rug, his coattails flaring out behind him. Rain patters down on the windows and the skylight.) SYDNEY: ... so keep in mind this is fourth grade, right... so Romeo was short and kind of pudgy... ASHLEY: Heh! SYDNEY: He was one of those really solid stocky kids, you know? So he comes back to school with these... these corkscrewy brown CURLS... where he used to have perfectly normal hair... (ASHLEY is grinning widely.) SYDNEY: So I, of course, the fourth grade smartass kid who barely weighs seventy-five pounds, -I- have to up and call Romeo a hobbit! (ASHLEY whoops, nearly spilling his Dr Pepper all over everything. SYDNEY grins, raking his hand through his blond hair.) SYDNEY: I don't think he knew what a hobbit was, but since it was ME saying that, he knew it was nothing good... anyway, he took a swing at me but missed, and I ran away and ran ALL the way home... ASHLEY: Good call! SYDNEY: And when I get home, the school's already called my mother, asking where I am, and she's FURIOUS! So she grabs me by the arm and asks me what the hell I was thinking, and boom! I'm crying and screaming... ASHLEY: Awww... SYDNEY: And finally I manage to tell her what happened... and she just starts LAUGHING... and then she calls the school and tells them that I'm not feeling well, and we go out and get milkshakes, and she gives me a long lecture about how I probably shouldn't call other kids names, especially not big dumb mean oxen... well, okay, she didn't put it QUITE like that, but I think that's what she meant... (ASHLEY is bright red and laughing his ass off. After a moment he falls sideways onto the couch, howling.) SYDNEY: It was kind of nice, really. Although Romeo really beat the SHIT out of me the next day at school... I had to get stitches. (ASHLEY sobers slightly, but little hiccups of laughter still sneak through occasionally.) ASHLEY: Wow... so you've known these people all your life, haven't you? SYDNEY: Oh, yeah, more or less... Romeo's been trying to kill me since we were both five and he made me eat sand... want me to tell you about the time Duane wet his pants? ASHLEY: ... which one is Duane? SYDNEY: You know the really greasy nerd twins with the zit problem in first period? ASHLEY: Yeah? SYDNEY: Duane's the one with the bowlcut, and the REALLY bad zits... well, not that Grisly is that much prettier, but Duane looks BAD... ASHLEY: Oh yeah, those two... SYDNEY: The sad thing is that they look so awful, so nerdy, and they're not really that bright either. I mean, if you've got to look like that, you should at least be smart to make up for it, right? ASHLEY: Yeah, no kidding. (With a deft pirouette, SYDNEY spins down and flops out full-length on the zebra-skin rug, grinning up at the ceiling. He tucks his good hand behind his head, cradling his bad hand on his stomach.) ASHLEY: ... so what about Rosey? SYDNEY: Oh... he moved here about four years ago... ASHLEY: Has he always been like that? SYDNEY: You have no idea. If anything, he's better now... he's always been vicious mean, but lately he's adopted that smarmy grinning attitude... girls love it, though. I can't for the life of me understand why. ASHLEY: Gah. He used to be worse? SYDNEY: Oh, FUCK yes. He threw Grisly down the stairs once, a couple of years ago, just for looking at him too long. Or so he said. ASHLEY: Down the STAIRS? SYDNEY: Yeah, that concrete stairwell right by the drama room? And I don't mean pushed, I mean THREW. I'm amazed Grisly didn't break anything. He got a nasty concussion, though, and Rosey got suspended for a month... ASHLEY: God. SYDNEY: (completely serious) Yeah. Rosey is fucking STRONG, although he doesn't really look it. And he's fast, too... ASHLEY: ... (ASHLEY finishes off his can of Pepper and puts the empty can on the side table.) SYDNEY: I think he may actually be the one who got Amber pregnant, too... ASHLEY: Ouch? SYDNEY: Yeah, you never met her... she never came back to school after everyone found out. She was screaming rape for a while, though... ASHLEY: Oh man. SYDNEY: (bitterly) Yeah, and he's certainly capable of it... believe me... ASHLEY: ... that sounded kind of... personal, right there. SYDNEY: ... yeah. It's not something I like to talk about, though. ASHLEY: ... (SYDNEY wraps his arms around his shoulders and shivers a little.) ASHLEY: Damn, I'm sorry. Talk about something else? SYDNEY: ... I don't know. I'm trying to decide if this is something you need to know or not. ASHLEY: Ouch. Don't force yourself or anything... SYDNEY: No, see, I really REALLY don't want to tell you, but I want HIM to tell you even less. Pass me one of those couch cushions? (ASHLEY grabs one of the cushions and passes it down to SYDNEY, who puts it behind his head. Lacing his fingers together as best he can, SYDNEY takes a deep breath, and begins.) SYDNEY: Okay, this happened about two years ago. We were at a party... it was right after sophomore year had ended. There... uh... there was a lot of alcohol going around, and some other stuff, too... anyway. Rosey'd just stopped screwing some girl... I refuse to say they 'broke up', it makes that sound too legitimate... ASHLEY: Heh. SYDNEY: Anyway, by two in the morning, everyone was really drunk... I mean REEEEALLY drunk... and I remember stumbling out into the backyard and falling in a bush... got grass stains all over my favorite white pants... anyway, when I came to, Rosey was carrying me somewhere. ASHLEY: ... uh oh. SYDNEY: Yeah. Anyway. He carried me up to one of the bedrooms and put me on the bed... I don't think he knew I was awake yet... and I can remember thinking, that was nice of him... (SYDNEY appears to be shivering. ASHLEY frowns.) ASHLEY: You don't have to tell me any more, you know. SYDNEY: I... I better not stop here. ASHLEY: Are you sure? SYDNEY: No. ASHLEY: ... SYDNEY: So, anyway, I passed out for a while. And when I woke up again, he was about halfway done undressing me. (ASHLEY winces, hard. SYDNEY closes his eyes tightly, his voice starting to shake a bit.) SYDNEY: See, this is where it gets bad. ASHLEY: I can imagine... SYDNEY: No, I don't mean it just that way... I mean, okay, I was really drunk, and I was lonely, but everything else aside, I was just... really stupid, so I decided that I really WANTED to do this... (SYDNEY puts his good hand over his eyes, biting his lower lip. When he starts speaking again, his voice cracks a little.) SYDNEY: So I'm pretty much naked by now, and he's got his hands all over me, and I'm moaning and fumbling at his shirt as best I can, and then he... he... (SYDNEY pauses. ASHLEY gazes at SYDNEY for a moment, worried, then he slides off the couch and lies down next to SYDNEY on the zebra skin, propping himself up on his elbows. SYDNEY immediately reaches over and grabs one of ASHLEY's hands tightly, his breath hitching in his narrow chest.) SYDNEY: (voice cracking) He reaches over and pinches one of my nipples, really really hard. I mean, it hurt bad, even through the alcohol haze... and I look at him, I'm going to say something, tell him not to do that, and... god. It was... he's grinning this godawful evil grin at me, like he wants to disembowel me with his teeth and screw my entrails or something, and his eyes are glittering... ASHLEY: (softly) Damn... SYDNEY: I guess that kind of snapped me out of it... anyway, he was as drunk as I was, which is probably the only thing that saved me... I pushed him really hard, and he fell back on his butt... and he just starts laughing... this horrible, vicious laugh... anyway, I grabbed as much of my clothing as I could and bolted. I think I ended up dressing in the backyard. And the next day I had this huge hideous bruise across, like, half my chest, and these deep scratches in my thighs that I don't even remember getting... (ASHLEY puts his head on the pillow SYDNEY is lying on, and drapes his arm over SYDNEY's belly. SYDNEY, eyes closed, turns his head towards ASHLEY's, and their foreheads bump together lightly.) SYDNEY: We didn't see each other all summer... we never do... and he never referred to it, not once, once we got back to school. I think maybe he was too drunk to remember it. I hope that's true. I don't want him to remember it. ASHLEY: (softly) I don't see why you stayed friends with him, I really don't... SYDNEY: I guess... I guess it scared me to be anything else... I'd seen some of the shit he pulled with his enemies. Friends was safer, even if it was awful. ASHLEY: ... I guess... SYDNEY: I'm pretty much a coward, I always have been... but god, I'll never forget that... how much I... I WANTED that evil asshole, right then... it definitely taught me to be selective, though. Not that I was that promiscuous before, but... you know. ASHLEY: Yeah. (SYDNEY essays a brief laugh. It's a pitiful and weak sound.) SYDNEY: And now, of course, you think I'm a hideous slut. ASHLEY: Nah. (SYDNEY and ASHLEY both fall silent, laying on the zebra skin, foreheads just barely touching. ASHLEY's arm is lying across SYDNEY's stomach. Both of them have their eyes closed, listening to the hiss of the rain on the windows, and the faint crackling of the fire in the fireplace. After a moment:) SYDNEY: ... Ash? ASHLEY: Mm? SYDNEY: ... can I kiss you? Please? Just once? ASHLEY: ... (After a brief, tense moment, ASHLEY shifts forward slightly, awkwardly brushing his lips lightly against SYDNEY's. SYDNEY immediately presses his lips more firmly against ASHLEY's, and they hold the soft kiss for a few moments before breaking it.) SYDNEY: ... thank you... ASHLEY: ... yeah. (Cradling his wrist against his chest, SYDNEY carefully turns to face ASHLEY, and moves closer, tucking his face against ASHLEY's throat. ASHLEY tightens his arm about SYDNEY. After a few moments:) SYDNEY: ... I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have... taken advantage of that... ASHLEY: What do you mean? SYDNEY: Well, I, uh... it's just... every time you let me get romantic with you, it seems to be because you feel sorry for me... yesterday with the wrist and today with the godawful memory... ASHLEY: ... I don't know if that's got anything to do with it or not. SYDNEY: ... ASHLEY: (painstakingly, thinking this through aloud) I sure as hell don't know what I'm doing... I guess it's... flattering that you're interested in me. You know? But I don't... I don't know if I actually want this, or if I just don't want to say no, or what... and I mean, like you said yesterday, it's probably not a good idea to do this just because I feel sorry for you or because I feel lonely... I just keep on doing it, though, because it always seems like... the right thing to do, right at that moment. SYDNEY: Yeah... ASHLEY: I just... I like you, and I'm really... well, amazed and astonished that you're interested in me... so maybe I'm, I'm doing this because it's so nice to be WANTED, by ANYONE, and I don't want you to stop that... (SYDNEY laughs, very quietly.) SYDNEY: I don't think I COULD stop that... ASHLEY: I know... so I'm really messed up about this, I think... I'm lonely, and I'm flattered, and I, uh, I guess I'm a little horny too... (Both of them laugh again, slightly.) ASHLEY: (a little more roughly) ... and I guess that explains why I really, desperately want to kiss you again, right this second... (ASHLEY pauses. There's a brief silence, broken only by the roll of thunder in the distance. Then SYDNEY puts his arms around ASHLEY and flows against him, pressing his lips to ASHLEY's almost desperately. This kiss is nothing like the first. It lasts for several minutes, rough and wet and thorough, as SYDNEY gingerly touches his tongue to ASHLEY's lips and finds a much warmer welcome waiting for him than he was expecting. After a long slippery while, they break the kiss, breathing hard.) ASHLEY: (roughly) Oh god. SYDNEY: (equally roughly) Yeah. ASHLEY: ... I think I'm going to freak out now. (SYDNEY responds by holding ASHLEY tighter and burying his face against ASHLEY's throat. ASHLEY squeezes his eyes tightly shut and trembles for a while, his arms tightening around SYDNEY in response.) ASHLEY: ... what the hell am I doing? What am I doing? SYDNEY: I don't know... I'm really glad of it, but... ASHLEY: God, Sydney, am I gay? I never... I never thought I was... SYDNEY: I don't know that either. Maybe you're bi, but I think... uh... maybe it's just me? Oh, god, that sounds conceited... (ASHLEY tries a brief, shaky laugh, but it doesn't succeed very well.) ASHLEY: I guess it does sound a little conceited, yeah... SYDNEY: But I'm serious... I mean, some guys, they're straight all their lives, and there are just... you know... one or maybe two guys that they'll respond to as well... I don't really think it makes you... you know... not straight. Unless there are other guys you think about like this, too... ASHLEY: Oh no. No. SYDNEY: Well, fuck, I don't have any answers for you, you know? I'll help you all I can, I'll do what I have to to make this easier, but I guess you're going to have to be the one to decide what you are and where you want me... if you can't handle this, I'll back off. I think I can still do that, just barely... ASHLEY: ... bucking for sainthood? SYDNEY: More like martyrdom, I think... ASHLEY: (groaning) Shit... (And then ASHLEY crushes his lips down on SYDNEY's again, effectively ending the conversation.) (SCENE: Same as before, but several hours later... the storm has ended, and the sun has set. None of the lights in the room are on, so only the flickering fireplace lights the scene. ASHLEY and SYDNEY are still sprawled out on the zebra skin. At some point during the past few hours, they both kicked off their shoes, and SYDNEY has managed to wriggle out of his coat. ASHLEY's sweater is missing, and his t-shirt is untucked and slightly rucked up. SYDNEY is asleep, his long blond hair unbound, snuggled closely inside ASHLEY's arms; ASHLEY is awake, staring at the fire with unseeing eyes, his chin resting on top of SYDNEY's head. Occasionally he reaches up and strokes SYDNEY's hair.) ASHLEY: Damn... (SYDNEY, asleep, makes a faint noise.) ASHLEY: (very quietly, to himself) This is so fucked up... but pretty nice... SYDNEY: (still mostly asleep) Mmmn. ASHLEY: (still very quietly) I don't know what to do... I enjoy this, but... god, trying to deal with it at school... SYDNEY: (beginning to wake up) ... s'okay... I won't tell anyone... ASHLEY: ... sounds like a fucked-up relationship, if we have to keep it a secret... SYDNEY: (now more or less completely awake) Yeah... but I don't think you're ready for an actual 'relationship' or anything... and you really don't want Rosey or Romeo finding out about this. Trust me... ASHLEY: (shuddering lightly) Definitely not... SYDNEY: I don't think Romeo actually knows I'm bi. He just calls me 'faggot' on general principles... if he thought I really WAS one, he'd definitely have tried to kill me by now. ASHLEY: ... that's something to look forward to. SYDNEY: No kidding... I guess let's just... you know... keep it quiet... we won't do anything at school. I promise. I'll let you set the pace... and if that includes backing off or stopping completely, I will. It won't be easy, but I... I think I can do it. Although I really, really don't want to. ASHLEY: ... you're starting to sound like a broken record, although I've got to admit it's pretty reassuring. Do I really sound that pathetic? Like I need this constant ego-massage? SYDNEY: Not... really, no, but... look, it's like this. Whatever else we are, now, we're still friends, and as your friend I don't want to see you get hurt. Even by me. So I... I guess I'm going way out of my way to make this as easy for you as I can, and help you through it, however it comes out. ASHLEY: ... damn, how many hours have you spent rehearsing that? SYDNEY: Shaddap. I'm a diehard romantic, forgive me... (sobering) Ash, I really really WANT this. I do. I can't tell you how much. But I want you to want it too, not just go along with this because you think it's what I want. ASHLEY: You mean, because I KNOW it's what you want. SYDNEY: ... yeah, that too. ASHLEY: ... thanks, Sydney. I guess... I guess if I had to be attracted to another guy, I couldn't have made a better choice... (Silence. SYDNEY nuzzles his face into ASHLEY's throat, just a little choked up. After a moment:) SYDNEY: I'll take that as a compliment. ASHLEY: That's how I meant it... SYDNEY: Good. What time is it, anyway? ASHLEY: Uh... (ASHLEY raises his head and cranes his neck, looking for a clock. After a moment...) ASHLEY: Shit. Almost eight... SYDNEY: ... I suppose that means you've got to get home. ASHLEY: ... yeah, I better... (SYDNEY reluctantly slides out of ASHLEY's arms and sits up. ASHLEY remains laying down for a moment more, staring up at the firelit SYDNEY. SYDNEY's blonde hair cascades messily over his shoulders to mid-back, and glints and shards of orange light dance in it as SYDNEY clumsily reties his ponytail.) SYDNEY: God. I'm never going to look at this zebra the same way again. Every time I see it I'm going to get this huge shit-eating grin on my face, and my parents are going to think I'm on drugs... ASHLEY: Heh. It's a nice zebra. Very comfortable. SYDNEY: Isn't it? You're welcome to come see him any time, I'm sure he'd like to have you visit... ASHLEY: I'll keep that in mind... (ASHLEY sits up now, too, with a groan, and pulls on his boots. SYDNEY shakes the wrinkles out of his black denim trenchcoat and puts it back on.) ASHLEY: Where the hell did my sweater go? SYDNEY: Uh... thataway... (SYDNEY darts over behind one of the couches and comes up with ASHLEY's sweater.) ASHLEY: Sheesh, I don't remember throwing it that hard... SYDNEY: I do. (SYDNEY grins widely. ASHLEY flushes, just slightly, then grins back. After a few more minutes, both boys are completely dressed, if a bit rumpled. SYDNEY puts the couch cushion back, flicks off the fireplace, and turns on a lamp, wincing at the light.) ASHLEY: Aaaagh, light... my eyes... SYDNEY: No kidding. Let's get out of here before I shrivel up under its harshness... ASHLEY: Yeah, I don't want to see that. Gross, man. (SCENE: In the parking lot outside ASHLEY's apartment, about fifteen minutes later. The motorbike is here, idling, and ASHLEY has just gotten off. SYDNEY leans on the handlebars, grinning.) ASHLEY: Damn, it really got cold... SYDNEY: No kidding... get inside before you freeze your butt off, sweater-boy. ASHLEY: Yeah. Uh... Sydney... thanks... for everything, I guess... SYDNEY: (cheerfully) The pleasure, I assure you, is all mine. ASHLEY: ... I... uh... I wouldn't exactly say that, you know... (SYDNEY's grin softens into a soft genuine smile.) SYDNEY: (softly) I'm glad. (normally) I'll come get you around 11:30 tomorrow, okay? ASHLEY: Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Sydney. I'll see you then. (After a brief, frozen moment, ASHLEY steps forward as if to kiss SYDNEY goodbye, then apparently changes his mind. Instead he reaches out and touches SYDNEY lightly on the shoulder, then darts to his front door and lets himself in. SYDNEY watches until the door closes, smiling.) SYDNEY: (mostly to himself, lightly, gazing at the door) I love you too, silly. (Then SYDNEY revs the motorbike, once, and drives away.) |
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===== Chapter Three - Sudden Death |