Chapter Nine

I didn't like Juice simply because he was a walking front cover of a fitness magazine and an all-star at sports. I fell for him when we were good friends in middle school, before he was either. While three years was a long time to hold on to a crush, there was a time when I felt he understood me. For someone like me who was so often misunderstood, that mattered. I wanted to hold onto that. I needed to. Besides, it wasn't something I could've forgotten anyway.

Perhaps, I imagined it, but I always felt like Juice looked out for me, in his own way. Sure, he didn't stop anyone from teasing me, he usually led the charge, but whenever he was around, no one else laid a hand on me. If I had to take a punch, he was the one who delivered it. The buck stopped with him. And he never hurt me, not more than I could handle. I knew it. Or maybe I was truly pathetic.

To the world's most pathetic closeted gay boy, went the world's dumbest superpower. I couldn't deny my power fit me like a glove, but it didn't make it any less dumb.

The next day, Saylor and Faith had already forgotten about how last night had ended. We had carefully laid out which subjects required groveling, if ever brought up in the heat of an argument, but none of us ever went after each other like that. Hurting each other on purpose would've been like hurting ourselves.

We were three halves of a whole.

The next few days of school were average and eye spasm-less, so onto more Juice Williams for everyone's sake.

Drool.

The best part of photography class and the reason students with absolutely no interest in photography took it, was for the trips off campus. Saylor was in it for the photo ops, but for me, it was a tie between them and Juice. At least that was what I'd have told Saylor if he asked. He never did. He didn't want to be lied to just as much as I didn't want to lie to him.

Our destination wasn't far. We were headed to the Sugar Bottom campgrounds at Lake MacBride, which was only a fifteen minute drive from school. Despite being so close, we still rode the bus because of liability. I didn't mind. Since I played my cards right, I ended up sitting across from Juice. Saylor was my seat buddy, of course.

Disclaimer: the historically accurate naming of the campgrounds set an unrealistically high bar for the day. Also, the Lake wasn't actually Lake MacBride, but the two lakes were connected, so I refused to acknowledge the other one.

Saylor whispered in my ear once the bus started moving to help muffle our voices. "If Juice asked you to switch seats and sit next to him, would you?"

I cracked a wide smile and did this circular thing with my head that was neither a shake nor a nod. Saylor burst out laughing. I stole a glance at Juice to see if we were annoying him, but he hadn't looked up from his phone since we sat down.

Saylor's face turned serious. "Is that a yes?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, because I know that's what you'd want for me." I held my breath, but I was fairly certain I'd moonwalked his minefield. Saylor's smile seemed genuine, but he turned to look out the window. "Unless there's some reason you don't?" I asked.

Saylor cleared his throat, but he didn't face me. "You're procrastinating. Talk to him. That's why we sat down, right?"

He was right and I understood why he was being curt. He was forcing me to get out of my own way. I scooted closer to the aisle and leaned toward Juice. "I've never seen your camera... What kind do you have?"

I pointed down at the gym bag between his pristine Jordan sneakers. Though, I hoped for his camera's sake, he didn't have one rattling around in there.

"I-phone," Juice replied, holding up the one he'd been tapping away at.

His cocky grin was more than enough to make me turn away. I narrowed my eyes when I looked back at him. He was the only one who could get away with that. Even though we only used Saylor's camera. I had my Nikon as a backup. You had to own an actual camera. Those were the rules!

"I saved your life, you know," I said acidly. I knew it was dumb, but I had nothing else.

I waited. I wasn't sure if he heard me or if he was going to acknowledge me. I started to turn around, then Juice actually set his phone down and turned toward me in the aisle. I looked down at his shoes. Even back in middle school I had trouble holding eye contact with him. Also, he was a fool to bring brand new, expensive, white-on-white shoes to the Lake.

"You right, I guess I owe you for that," he said.

I was speechless, but satisfied. I parted my lips to exhale, which sort of doubled as a lustful gaze. "Wanna autograph?"

He did this two-tone laugh, the kind rappers made before they went in on a verse. Except, nothing followed. I knew it wasn't real. How could I let myself be fooled so easily?

"I really saved your life," I said again, sounding unreasonably upset.

"Chill, I'm playin'. I just meant you never used to put me on a pedestal. What changed?"

I was speechless again. Everything had changed between us. How could he not know that? But, what if everything was my fault? I started thinking back to when we stopped talking, but felt our conversation slipping away. I accidentally voiced my thoughts aloud. Or maybe it was on purpose.

"I got powers and turned into a weirdo. Then you were too embarrassed to be seen with me."

I couldn't believe I said that. I regretted nothing. I wanted to turn to Saylor for support, but I resisted. I had to do this on my own.

"Yeah, I guess I should a believed you. Remember your cuzzo's party? And that time at the bowling alley?" Juice asked.

His face showed not only genuine, but keen interest. He was giving me more attention than he had in years. It was almost too much. My cousin's birthday party had been unforgettable for a lot of reasons.

It marked the ascension of our friendship. We sailed high in the sky for months after. The bowling alley; however, marked our violent crash back down to Earth. It was the day things had changed irrevocably. The incident there had critically wounded our friendship, but his time away at summer league and training camps had let me believe there was still hope.

That died when the plug was pulled on the first day of high school. There was so much distance between us that I'd started to think our friendship had only ever existed in my head.

"How could I forget?" I asked softly, slumping down in my seat.