ibonekoen. Inside-Out Chapter 3 (Reply)

Standard disclaimers apply. I don't own these guys. If I did. . .well, suffice to say we'd never leave my bedroom. ^_^

But school the next day gets pretty fucking weird.

Stokely catches me staring at Casey. It’s one of those rare moments after The Incident that Stan isn’t attached to her hip. Funny how almost dying will bring people together.

I’m sitting on a table in the quad, smoking a cigarette. It’s December and it’s starting to snow. Most sane people are inside, eating their lunch in the cafeteria.

Not Casey. He’s more interested in photographing the winter wonderland that is Herrington in December. He’s snapping pictures of everything. The snow-covered tables, the trees, the icy steps. Hell, even the cars in the parking lot.

My car’s in the parking lot. Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere Casey Casey Casey.

And then I feel eyes upon me and glance to my right. Stokely’s sitting beside me, hunched over with her hands jammed deep into the pockets of her coat. She’s got this smug look on her face.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” she asks, smirking.

Cute? CUTE?! God damn he’s a fucking cock tease, is what he is! Shit, it’s an act. It’s gotta be! No one’s that innocent after eleven or twelve years old! He’s just waiting for someone to see it’s a come on!

I take a drag from my cigarette.

“Fuck yeah.”

. . .

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh that was out loud.

Oh.

Fuck.

“Uhh, wait, what did you. . .” I begin, but Stokely cuts me off by snatching the cigarette from my hand. Who the fuck does she think she is? Just because we fought aliens together does not give her the right to mooch off me. Get your own cigarette, cow! That was NOT fair! I’m young and I’m horny. You don’t wave jailbait in front of a young horny guy’s face. Wait, is fucking a guy under eighteen illegal in this state? What state are we in?

This is the bad part about using drugs. They numb your brain to piddly shit little details like where you live.

She’s still sitting there with a smug look on her face as she blows smoke into the air. “You should just tell him, Zeke. You’d look a lot less pathetic than just sitting here in the freezing cold, watching him.”

“Tell ‘im fucking what? That I didn’t hear what you said?” I snarl in self-defense. Fuck, Stokely better keep her fucking mouth shut.

She rolls her eyes and snorts. “C’mon, Zeke, don’t be fucking coy. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

She takes a drag from the cigarette as she smirks at me. She’s enjoying this.

I, on the other hand, am NOT enjoying this. What’s she talking about? What looks? Have I been giving Casey gay looks?

I’m never listening to that song again. It’s fucked with my brain. And I haven’t been fucking other things anywhere near enough. Where’s a poodle when you need one?

Whooooooooooooooooa let’s just pretend I didn’t just seriously consider fucking a dog.

Stokely rolls her eyes again, giving a frustrated sigh. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Zeke. Do I have to spell it out for you?”

She shakes her head, mutters something about too much weed and scat ruining my brain cells.

She looks at me expectantly. “Well? Do I?”

I look around frantically. Is anyone else hearing this? Fuck, I’m screwed!

“Not here.” I mumble self-consciously, pulling my coat tighter around me. “It’s not what you think.”

She looks amused again, chuckling lightly. “Relax, Zeke. I don’t think anybody else realizes it but me. Casey sure as hell doesn’t.”

“And what exactly is it?” she continues. “Or have I been interpreting those ‘god, I want to fuck you right now’ looks wrong?”

“Those are new!” I insist before I realize what I’ve said. Shit. See?! SEE?! This is why I don’t sympathize with people! It ALWAYS gets me in trouble.

Stokely nods, looking pleased with herself. Bitch. I liked her better when she was a violent man-hating dyke. Of course that was all an act too, but whatever. At least she minded her own business.

“Seriously, Zeke, you should just talk to him.” she says. “Delilah really fucked him up. He needs to get her over.”

“And say what?” I demand in a hiss. “Hey geek boy, I was thinking about you while I was spanking the sausage last night?!”

Stokely laughs. “God no, you don’t want to freak the boy out.” she says. “Saying hi would be a good start though.”

“That’s gay.” I say immediately, then realize how stupidly ironic that sounds.

Stokely shrugs. “You could always just kiss him.” she says, taking one last drag from the cigarette and then crushing it out against the tabletop. “Worked for me and Stan.”

“You just don’t wanna be the only one this semester who suddenly decided they liked guys.” I grumble. I know that’s kind of mean, but shit, doesn’t she understand the guy code of conduct that you don’t talk about this shit. . .ever?

She glares at me. “Fuck you, Zeke.”

She shakes her head and stands up, then brushes the snow off her clothes. “Fine. Stay here and wallow in your self-fucking-pity. And those looks I mentioned? They tend to alternate between ‘wanting to fuck him’ looks and the same longing, pathetic looks he gives Delilah.”

She starts back toward the school, pausing long enough to call out a ‘hello’ to Casey, who’s still taking pictures.

I’m pretty sure I cringe visibly. Shit! Shit shit shit shit SHIT! Sabotaged! Is Casey looking? He’s looking, isn’t he? Holy fuck I’m never masturbating again!

. . .

Okay, maybe things aren’t THAT bad.

I sneak a glance at Casey, just because I can’t seem to keep my eyes off him, and notice he’s got his camera pointed at me. Huh? Did he take my picture?

He notices me looking, quickly lowers his camera and starts scurrying toward the school.

“Hey!” I call out, then start after him. I realize too late that he’s probably convinced I’m going to kick his ass or something. Thanks SO MUCH Stokely. See if I ever give you any freebies ever again.

Casey stops, his eyes widening and he starts to curl into himself, protecting his camera. “It was for the yearbook.” he mumbles.

I stop dead, not sure what to do. We’re standing in the quad, in the cold, staring at each other and saying nothing. This is LAME. I gotta do something.

“Sure.” I say, awkwardly assuming my typical who-gives-a-shit stance.

Casey stares at me suspiciously, uncurling a bit, but still wary. As if he’s afraid at any minute I’m going to hit him.

“I’ll. . .let you see a copy of it.” he mumbles. “Before I turn it in. If you want.”

“You’re confusing me for someone who gives a shit about this school.” I respond, smirking as I settle into the bullshit front I keep up while I’m in this shithole.

He nods. “Oh. Right. Could’ve fooled me. What with the saving the school from aliens and all.”

He blinks as though he’s unsure what he’s doing standing here talking to me and then glances down, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the sidewalk. “I’d better go.” he mumbled. “Delilah wants me to take pictures of the basketball team after lunch.”

“Why? So she can make a checklist of who she’s gonna blow under the bleachers?” I mutter bitterly, rolling my eyes. “But yeah. You’d better go. I think talking to me is a black mark against you with the Harvard admissions board.”

. . .

Why did I say that?

He snorts, smirking a little. “Why Zeke, I didn’t know you cared.”

Then he cringes and backs away, looking like he’s getting ready to duck in case I throw a punch at him.

I stare at him stupidly. Oh fuck! Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck he’s flirting with me! I knew it! I fucking KNEW IT! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Say something! God fucking damn it! SAY SOMETHING!

. . .

Casey stares back, blinking. He looks kind of stunned, like he’s expecting me to do something or, at the very least, say something.

“Um. . .okay.” he says, licking his lips. “I’m going now.”

He slowly turns away and starts walking toward the school again.

I panic then and run after Stokely, shoving past Casey as I bolt from the quad.

Oops.