"I still don't get you; you made a move, you kissed him, you ran, and now you're avoiding him. What kind of crackpot does that?"

Lucio hung his head, letting out a soft sigh as he repeatedly tapped the tip of his pencil on his abnormally bulky volume of Mathematics textbook. He had been trying to solve a word problem regarding Permutation. At any other day, he would simply ask Pelham, seeing as Pelham was a Maths genius. But for the past few days, he couldn't even gather up the courage to approach the older boy, let alone speak. And it was all because of him.

"I do," he said, swivelling around in his chair and facing Vanessa, who was currently sprawled on his bed and reading one of Lucio's notebooks.

"You really screwed it up, didn't you?" she said, without much looking at him as she flicked a page from the notebook, her eyes darting from one corner to the other.

"Again," Lucio agreed.

"What do you mean 'again'?" she said, finally looking up from the book and frowning in his direction. Lucio simply looked at her, as though both of them could perform a telepathic interaction. Only when realisation seemed to dawn into her eyes did she nod in cognition. "Why did you do it anyway? You knew you were standing on a narrow line there - why risk it?"

"Impulsive control issues,"

Vanessa scoffed. "That's the only thing you can come up with?"

"What? He's cute,"

She shook her head, smiling. "What was his reaction anyway, if you're so certain that he's ... say, disgusted by you?"

Lucio mulled over this for a moment. Since the day it happened, he hadn't exactly concentrated on Pelham's response. All he knew was that one moment he was staring at Pelham, and the next moment their lips were locked. Perhaps there had been an adrenaline rush in Lucio's system that he didn't feel Pelham respond. He had simply left without a coherent explanation regarding his abrupt actions, no doubt leaving the older boy at a state of befuddlement.

Undeniably, Lucio hadn't been focusing entirely on Pelham, much less ask how the boy felt. As far as he was concerned, he was too wallowed up in self-pity that he hadn't spared a thought on anyone else's feelings. Was he that tactless?

There was also the fact that Pelham had so casually returned his phone on the day after. Back then, Lucio had been too apprehensive to act normally around him. He knew he'd forgotten his phone at Pelham's house - having had bolted out of the house like the coward he was - yet he couldn't bring himself to go back and claim it due to fear of being lashed out. What he hadn't thoroughly considered was how Pelham was adequately nonchalant about the whole state of affairs, almost as though he didn't mind being kissed by another boy.

"I don't know," Lucio answered truthfully. "I left, remember?"

"Like the crackpot you are, yes," she nodded in assent. "But he hasn't acted differently around you, has he? Heck, he even started up a conversation with you yesterday. And you just had to ruin it by saying you were late for class when really, you were trying to avoid him. I don't get it."

It was true that Pelham had approached Lucio the previous day to start up a casual conversation with him, starting from Mathematics by asking whether Lucio still needed Pelham's assistance, especially since there was a test looming around the corner of the second week of March. It was only then did he realise that Roshon - who was almost constantly walking by Pelham's side - was nowhere in sight. And Lucio, without much of an in-depth deliberation, had cut Pelham off by saying that he had to rush to class.

He had definitely missed the look of dejection on Pelham's face then.

It was also true that Lucio was beyond worried regarding the thought of the bitter past repeating itself, except that now it seemed to be in a completely different form and universe. He couldn't exactly deny the fact that he was shunning out Pelham Nixon. He was simply frightened beyond his guts, especially when he was fairly convinced that he was the one who had caused the whole dilemma.

Now that he thought about it, was there really a dilemma, or was he just paranoid? "I think it's just me," said Lucio.

"So are you gonna talk to him?" Vanessa suddenly sat up with an eager look on her face.

"I have to," Lucio shrugged. "I mean, yeah, he hasn't acted differently."

"Most straight boys would've been weirded out," she said knowingly, a smirk forming on her lips.

"In the past, maybe," said Lucio. "I think people are pretty open-minded nowadays. Well, several people."

"Says the boy who gets beaten up every week,"

"How are you and Josephine?" Lucio said, changing the topic. He wasn't really in the mood to chew over gender preferences.

"I think she's considering to go back into the closet now," said Vanessa, a vexed look replacing her animated face. Lucio raised his eyebrows in question. "My brother caught us making out behind the car."

Lucio's eyes widened. "How was it for him?"

"He only told us to get a room with a sound-proof wall," Vanessa shrugged. "He didn't seem bothered. But Josephine? She freaked out at being caught."

"At least there's that," said Lucio. "Do you think Pelham will let me explain myself? What if he pretends that he doesn't care when he's actually grossed out?"

"I have an idea that involves you throwing pebbles at his window in the middle of the night,"

"Not naked, I hope,"

Vanessa's smirk grew. "You're only giving me more ideas."

*

It hadn't exactly been a smooth week for Pelham. He felt as though he was deluged by the fracas that was bursting from every corner of his brain, what with trying to reach unobtainable answers. If the past few years had been hell for him, he didn't know what was looming up ahead. He had never felt so alone, despite knowing fully well that it was just about to begin.

Of course, he was beginning to regret ever coming out to his only best friend, who was now trying all his best to stay away from Pelham. He should have seen it coming, yet he was blinded by the seemingly soothing fact that best friends were supposed to be the accepting type of friends, not ones to steer clear of you once they knew the hard - and ugly, he thought - truth. Now, however, he was having second thoughts. Now, he mused whether he ever truly knew who Roshon was - and vice versa.

It was simple, he thought. Roshon detested him. It wasn't exactly a speculation, but it was obvious from the way Roshon had been acting all week. Every conversation was halted midway. Every stride was doubled whenever Pelham was behind him. Roshon might not tell him why, but Pelham simply knew. And he would be lying if that didn't hurt him. It felt as though someone was deliberately tearing off chunks of his guts one by one, thinking he wouldn't feel a thing when the torment was everywhere.

The only good thing about it had to be the fact that Roshon didn't project his emotions directly towards Pelham.

At least he knows enough not to destroy people, Pelham thought whenever he tried to make himself feel good - not that he was getting any better. He was aware that his world was already falling apart, like a crack snaking out and expanding over the wall of a water dam, causing jets of water to shoot through the fissures.

Then there was also Lucio, who seemed to grow more unpredictable and more incalculable each day. Pelham had gotten over the kiss - or so he thought - after analysing the whole occurrence and coming to a conclusion that stated it might have something to do with the fact that they were alone in his house, making the ambience more ardent than it normally did when it came to a pair of boys.

He couldn't deny the fact that Lucio was occupying about half of his brain for the past few days - or longer, really, before the boy had even kissed him. At the same time, he didn't want to concentrate on it, regardless of the fact that the mere presence of Lucio - even if it was just a brief glimpse of his dark hair - triggered something inexplicable in him.

If he were honest with himself, he wouldn't be bothered had any of his other friends - excluding, of course, Roshon and April - were giving him the cold shoulder treatment. Lucio was simply discrete.

Pelham watched as Oris slide the paper that she had been drawing on under his face. At the moment, both of them were lying on their bellies on the floor of Oris' bedroom, each of them fairly occupied with some papers and crayons; Oris drawing her own world in a variety of colours and shapes; Pelham drawing poorly shaped circles for the past twenty minutes using the same colour: grey. He hated to admit that a three-year-old was more artistic than him.

He watched his baby sister's work of art; a lemon-yellow sun, only about a quarter of its whole shape, drawn at the top-right corner of the paper with its long rays spreading out in yellow lines; three dark M-shaped birds flying in the plain white sky where small blue clouds hung. Below it, Oris had drawn a lush green meadow with abnormally large pink flowers. A dark-skinned girl - herself - with a pink dress stood at the middle of the meadow, and on either side of her stood both of their parents, both of whom had fair skins. Next to her mother was a boy who Pelham instantly recognised as him; Oris had precisely drawn Pelham wearing his favourite red-and-black flannel.

Pelham recognised Roshon instantly afterwards, standing just next to him. It made sense, seeing as Roshon was the only dark-skinned boy there. He also recognised April's long dirty blonde hair, and she was standing next to his father. Oris had made sure it was April by colouring her lips crimson.

But what held his attention the most was another boy with raven hair standing next to Roshon. He didn't need to question who the boy could possibly be. After all, the boy had been into the house for more than a couple of times already for the past couple of months, and there was no doubt that Oris - being the artistic three-year-old that she was - had grasped his features by now.

"Famiwy!" Oris chirped, pointing at each of the faces with a broad grin plastered on her face.

It was considerably odd - at least to Pelham - for Oris to see Pelham's friends as part of her family. But then again, she was three. She had her own realm.

"What are their names?" asked Pelham, grinning back at Oris as if in a challenge.

"Owis!" she pointed at her own face. Then she pointed at their mother. "Jude..."

"Jody," he corrected.

But she ignored him as she traced her forefinger across their father's face. "Ken... neth ..." she said, frowning a bit. "Plump ..."

"Pel-hum," he said.

"Plump,"

"Whatever you say,"

"Apple!" she grinned, knowing that she had at least pronounced 'April' right. Pelham shook his head, laughing. "Uh ... Lotion."

"You mean 'Roshon'?"

"Yeth," she nodded."Lotion."

Pelham pointed to the last boy. "And this must be ...?"

"Lucath!"

"I don't remember having a friend called 'Lucas'," he said thoughtfully. "That must be Lucio."

"Luthio?" she raised her head at Pelham in question. When Pelham nodded, she chuckled delightedly.

"Good girl,"

It was until then that a soft knock came on the door, followed by a faint creak. Looking up, Pelham saw that their mother had poked her head through the gap between the door and the doorframe. "You busy?" she asked Pelham.

"I'm teaching Oris how to pronounce names correctly," he said. "What is it?"

"Your friend is here to see you," she said.

"Roshon?" he asked, feeling hopeful all of a sudden.

She shook her head and pulled the door wider. Pelham's breath caught when he saw that the person who was standing behind Jody was the person who had been trying to avoid him.

"Lucio," he said, feeling his lips stretch into a beam.

Lucio, dressed in a black sweater and ripped denim jeans, smiled nervously at him. "If you're busy, I can just-"

"I need assistance at teaching Oris how to pronounce names," he cut Lucio off. Oris waved at Lucio with her hands clutched around different colours of crayons.

"Guess I'll leave you three alone, then!" Jody said, smiling before she turned to leave.

Lucio stood in the doorframe, looking relatively out of place as he surveyed the forget-me-not blue room. His hands hung at his sides, fingers drumming against his thighs. Nervous.

"Oris drew you," Pelham began.

At this, Lucio's eyebrows rose. "Did she?" stepping deliberately inside, almost in an unconscious manner.

Pelham, having long limbs and short patience, stretched out his hand and yanked Lucio down by his wrist. Lucio fell lightly onto the floor, landing on his knees. He then glared at Pelham - who simply grinned before holding the paper up towards Lucio's face.

"See? She drew you," said Pelham.

A soft smile made its way onto Lucio's lips. He turned towards Oris and pinched her cheek. "I look hot, thanks," he said, to which Pelham rolled his eyes.

"Welcome!" she said.

Lucio regarded Pelham. "You taught her manners well, I see," he said.

"Yeah, well ..." he trailed off, unable to come up with a modest answer. "Anyway, you here for another Maths session or ...?"

"Um," Lucio looked down at his fingers, as though he had found them suddenly amusing. "I wanted to explain about ... that day."

"Oh?" Pelham sat up with his legs crossed, studying Lucio, dismissing the violent drum of his heart against his chest.

"Sure," he nodded. "I owe you an explanation, don't I?"

"You're not wrong there," Pelham smirked.

"I'm sorry-"

"Hey," Pelham cut him off before Lucio could start his seemingly endless apology. "It's totally cool. I'm fine with it. You don't have to worry about it. Really."

"I just-" Lucio inhaled, "I don't know, I wasn't thinking straight. And, well, you were so ..."

"So ...?"

"I don't know how to explain it," Lucio's shoulders slumped. "I shouldn't have kissed you like that - it wasn't supposed to happen. It was random - well, not really."

"What do you mean 'not really'?"

It took Lucio ten complete seconds before he answered, "I'm gay."

Pelham's eyebrows rose in surprise; why hadn't that overt aspect come up to him when he had been analysing Lucio's actions? It seemed to be the only intelligible explanation: Lucio Alves was gay. Why hadn't he thought of it?

"You're-" Pelham began.

"I know, I know," Lucio said, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I'm not gonna be surprised if you're grossed out after this. So if you are, just say it. But ... yeah, you were there that day, and you were so ... I don't know, charming? It just happened. And it shouldn't have. It was my fault, of course. That was why I'd been staying out of your way - well, tried to. I was scared that you might lash out at my presence. But then I talked to my friend, and she said that all I have to do is talk to you, since ... you know, she said you look casual about the whole situation anyway. And she was right. It was just me being paranoid. And I swear - I really swear - that it won't happen again."

"'It'?" Pelham repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"The kiss," said Lucio. "It won't happen again. I won't kiss you again. I promise."

Pelham didn't know how to feel about that, but he decided that since Lucio was trying to make up for his actions - which never bothered him that much anyway - this one had to be it.

So, in response, he smiled. "You were the one who freaked out, not me," he said.

A reserved smile made its way onto Lucio's lips.

That was when Pelham realised something. "Is that why they beat you up?"

"What?"

"That day you were in the toilet," he said. "Is it because ...?"

"Oh," Lucio frowned. "I don't know. Those tyrants like harassing people. I'm not sure if they really know about me, but even if they assume that I'm gay, at least they're not entirely stupid."

Pelham laughed. "You need to report this-"

"No, I'm fine," he said doggedly. "That day ... they were shoving me around - the usual. And I put up a fight. Punched one of them in the face. Apparently, it angered them even more. You saw what happened."

Pelham sniggered. "You idiot,"

Lucio shrugged. Oris then tugged at the sleeve of his shirt. "Hello," he said.

"Aw you," Oris began, "aw you Plump's boyfwend?"

Lucio's eyes widened. Pelham, on the contrary, burst into fits of laughter. "No," they said altogether.

"Why not?" she pried.

Lucio looked towards Pelham, incredulity drawn all over his face. "Because we're just friends, Oris."