February 14th, 2001

Andre gets out of the driver's seat, slamming the car door behind him shut. "This is a such a dumbass holiday."

Calvin follows after him, stepping away from the Grand Am. "What do you think's going on at school?" Usually, he would try his best to avoid the topic of their high school unless it was to talk negatively about it or to discuss Zero Day, but curiosity ate at the back of his mind. There was supposed to be some special Valentine's Day event for the Senior class going on today, courtesy of their Principal who was trying to make up for a field trip they missed out on in January because of transportation difficulties.

Andre clears his throat, "Don't know, don't care." fidgeting with his car keys before slipping them into his front pocket.

After a little convincing that they'd catch up on any school assignments they might miss, their parents agreed it'd be fine to let them skip the day. It wasn't a problem with the school's administration either, as attending the event was completely optional, so with a warning that if the event finished early students were expected to assume responsibility in terms of catching up with any work they could possibly miss out on if they decided to not attend, they were let off the hook.

They were still supposed to run errands for Andre's parents before 3:00 P.M., though. Cal calculated they'd have to hit Home Depot in about an hour.

Patting his pockets down, Andre makes a dash across the street to the park that awaited on the other end, ash-black sunglasses falling from his head down to his nose.

Cal brings a hand up to his brow bone, trying to shelter his eyes from the glaring sun. He looks to the left once, then to the right, before sprinting over to meet Andre on the grassland ahead.

This park had been their treasure for the past six months. They'd been driving around lazily, wasting time one drearily hot afternoon when they stumbled upon it, sitting cozily in what had all the characteristics of an upper-middle-class suburban neighborhood - the kinda neighborhood your loaded relative you only see once a year lives in - a full 5,500 square feet of nothing but green, packed with trees plus a few bushes and flower shrubs here and there.

"Is this... wet?" Cal stops in his tracks, lifting one of his feet to take a look at the sole of his sneaker, which glistened with dew.

"Yeah, they probably turned the sprinklers on earlier. Can't believe the fuck-o's here have this park kept in perfect conditions for them and they never even use it."

Cal kicks the air, "They're all wealthy old people," laughing cynically. "I think half of them can barely walk."

"What a fucking waste."

"Not really. If they used it, we wouldn't be able to." Most of the parks that surrounded their respective neighborhoods were trashed and run down by little kids. The skatepark they frequented was better, but that was only if that zombie-brained dipshit Tyler Hultmark who thought he owned the place wasn't hanging around, and even then, Cal wasn't typically in the mood to embarrass himself in front of middle-schoolers by falling on his ass after attempting basic tricks on his board.

They were almost always completely alone whenever they came to this park, and that was just how he liked it.

Andre tilts his head, a barely perceptible shrug rolling off his shoulders. "You make a fair point there."

They walk together, heading deeper into the park where trees could shade them from the face-melting sun. Even in February, it seemed that it never took a break from shining down on their heads, an annoyance, a reminder of the stubbornness that so often paralleled their own.

Andre settles on one of the taller trees that was rooted in the park, it seemed to be his favorite as of late. Which Cal found very characteristically Andre, if something worked for him, he stuck with it.

The patches of grass that surrounded that area were damp but compared to the water that covered most of the rest of the park, it was going to have to do.

Cal slinks down against a tree next to the one Andre has his back to. Wasting time was the purpose of coming here, there was absolutely nothing productive about sitting around in a park, other than possibly brainstorming if you could consider that doing something. He can already hear Gerhard lecturing Andre about the importance of being resourceful when it came to time, how he shouldn't take it for granted simply because of his youth, giving him a life lesson he doesn't know Andre won't ever need.

He thinks about going back to the car, getting the camera out of his duffel bag that'd been laying around in the trunk. But something tells him Andre isn't up for being filmed, not now, at least.

Perhaps, in an attempt to silence his own thoughts, he speaks the first thing that comes to mind. "Valentine's Day always makes me think of this girl I kissed."

Andre seems intrigued, even if only minimally. "How's that?"

"This girl I dated for three weeks when I was in sixth grade kissed me on Valentine's Day. Her name was Emilia... she was my first kiss."

If he was telling this story to someone else, he might've expected an 'aw' or a question about how he met Emilia. He knew he wasn't getting that from Andre.

"Was she hot?" Andre asks nonchalantly.

Cal smiles wide, rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his hand. "We were twelve, you freak."

"Oh, c'mon," Looking baffled and slightly amused, Andre raises his voice a little more than necessary. "don't even try to pull that innocent and naive crap act on me like I'm gonna buy that shit. I know you found girls hot when you were twelve... you're such a fucking perv, I think you were just born like that."

Cal's smile falters a little, he can't even argue back. "She was cute, I guess. She was taller than me so... we only kissed when we were sitting down."

Andre snickers, most likely thinking of ways to rag him about being short when he was younger.

Trying to deflect the attention from himself, Calvin urges. "What about you? Who was your first kiss with? Did it suck?"

Andre's face contorts, like it physically pains him to think back to the memory. "This bitch I kissed at a Sadie Hawkins dance in seventh grade. It was fine. Like, we were all in the gym and then she pulled me out to the hallway 'cause she said she needed to tell me something and she ends up kissing me. Her lips were really wet... she had on some kinda- some kinda lip gloss shit and before she kissed me she licked her lips. So she ended up slobbering all over my face... that was the only time we kissed. Actually, the year after that I think she changed schools..."

Calvin puts on a tauntingly sweet, disgusting voice, "Aw, poor Andre, did you love her?" exaggeratedly pouting his bottom lip.

"No." Andre enforces, grimacing and turning his eyes away from Cal, but the tiniest hint of a smile creeping over his lips sells his seriousness out.

"I can't believe I've never asked you who your first kiss was before... isn't that weird? Considering how long we've known each other?" Four years with Andre seemed like an eternity, yet, concurrently, all of it had passed too fast.

"... No, it just means we've got better things to talk about than who our first kiss was, thankfully."

"Well, yeah, but... still." Cal trails off, before coming up with another question.

He grazes his fingers along his jawline. "Do you think you'd date any of the girls you know?"

Andre doesn't say anything for a moment as if he's trying to process what Calvin just asked. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not Brad Huff or one of his asshole friends."

"No- like, in theory, think about all of the girls you know, would you date any of them? If we were, y'know, allowed to date." Andre had proposed after The Army Of Two's first mission was completed that neither of them should be allowed to date. His reason being that it'd be an obvious distraction from future missions and preparations for Zero Day. Calvin thought it was kind of ridiculous, considering they were very, very rarely asked on dates in the first place, but he just decided to agree with Andre to avoid a discussion he was too tired to have and they left it at that.

Andre makes a noise of indifference. "Some of them are hot, but it'd be useless to waste my time dating them, most of 'em are fucking annoying and none of 'em like the same shit I do."

Cal throws his head back. "Yeah, it's really unfortunate we can't get girls by talking about plans to shoot up the school, huh?"

Andre cracks a smile. "That's not what I meant."

"Uh-huh, I know." Cal reassures.

"You got any more girly stories you feel like sharing?" Andre jeers, "Go ahead, why don't you really open up to me, Cal?" mimicking the tone of their school counselor. They'd only gone to see her three or four times individually, but both of them had had more than enough of her. This feeling was one of the few things they had in common with the rest of their peers, none of the students held her in high regard. If Cal were God, he thinks he'd smite the bitch down on the spot. Neither he, Andre, nor any of the pathetic bastards at Tielson would have to stand her flat face and vexatious chatter a single day longer, he figured he could do them all a little favor, and everyone would enjoy that for a while before they were gone, too.

Patience. Patience was what he held onto.

"Yeah, actually. There's... remember that girl who was with us in... I think it was our Chemistry class, Freshman year?"

"That's a pretty fuckin' vague description."

Cal brings his hands up to his head. "The sort of redhead one. Skinny. Kelsey... Karley... something like that. My dad was trying to befriend her dad, so we went camping with her family that summer. We kissed when we were supposed to be looking for earthworms as fishing bait... I don't- I don't even know why I kissed her, I mean, I don't think I even liked her. It was just one of those dumb 'in the moment' things."

Looking back on it, he considers that he likely made a move on this girl because in his freshly fifteen-year-old mind he thought there was a fifty/fifty chance he'd get lucky if she liked him back, and after weighing out the pros and the cons in his head, he determined that there wasn't all that much to lose if she didn't. He didn't 'get lucky' by any stretch of the imagination, and it was idiotic to think he would, but he had to give himself credit for even having the balls to try.

"Dude," Andre sounds lost. "I have no idea who you're talking about. You sure you're not making this shit up?"

"No- Why would- I'm not."

Andre still appears unconvinced, but he lets it slide. "Okay. So you kissed two girls... I bet I'm a better kisser than you, anyway."

That's a load of shit, Cal thinks. He found Andre funny when, a lot of the time, he wasn't trying to be. "If you say so. It doesn't really mean anything if you can't prove it, Andre."

Andre sticks his arm out, reaching over to flick the back of Cal's ear with his middle finger and thumb. "And how exactly am I supposed to prove it, fuck-o?"

Cal swats his hand away. "I mean... if you're really... serious about proving this, I guess we could..." He doesn't dare finish his sentence, but he finds it hard to hold back his hilarity.

Andre isn't dense, what Cal's implying quickly dawns upon him. He doesn't say anything, but the expression drawn on his face does the job of getting his feelings across. His eyes blank over the trees ahead of them, and behind his shades, Cal can tell he's looking for something, someone.

It's slightly amusing, the way Andre's treating this, and Calvin takes it upon himself to state the obvious, striving to both make fun of and reassure Andre all at once. "What are y- Jesus, man, nobody's ever at this park. Plus it's," His eyes flicker down to his wrist, narrowing as he checks the time through the cracked crystal face of his watch. "it's 10:23 in the morning on a Wednesday. Valentine's Day. Everyone besides us is at school, work, shopping last minute at the mall or home alone moping about their relationship status."

Andre takes off his sunglasses and runs a hand through his hair, which seems to be messier than usual, "You're so hilarious." sarcasm drips from his mouth.

Cal looks at him, directly at him, then he backs down. "Look, you're right, actually. If you don't wanna, we won't. This wouldn't have proved anything, anyway, I don't think... you know I'm the better kisser." For a split second awkwardness settles in and he can't help but laugh, instinctively reacting to the stiff tension. Thinking that might make it worse, he racks his brain for shit to say. "People already think we're gay so-"

"No, okay- wait." Andre sighs, shutting Cal up. He turns his head around and openly scans the deserted area over with his eyes, raising his eyebrows and pinching the bridge of his nose, probably thinking he's being discrete when in reality he's anything but. "Fuckin' Christ..." He mutters, sucking a sharp breath of air in through his mouth before turning to face Calvin again. "Okay, fine, whatever, let's do it."

Cal's a little dumbstruck at Andre not putting up more of a fight. He initially suggested it jokingly, seeing just how far he could take it. He didn't truly expect Andre to agree.

He opens his mouth to speak when Andre blurts out, "Since you're, like, practically begging for it." before Cal can even get a word in.

Of course.

He didn't foresee himself getting this far, but Calvin feels something kindred to guilt just imagining Andre's embarrassment and he thinks it might be a little too late to go back on his word now. Plus, ironically, choosing this moment to say he was joking would make him the cop-out. "I'm- Alright, man, just... move closer, yeah?"

So Andre does, turning his body sideways and scooting a couple of inches closer to where Cal's seated, still a good foot and a half of distance left between them.

"Uh," Cal whispers. "close your eyes..?"

Andre shakes his head, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, no fucking way, we did that once already and you almost crashed my car. Not again."

"I almost crashed your car? That was your own fault, you weren't paying attention to my instructions... and there's no car this time."

Andre glares at him, like he didn't agree to this mere seconds ago. Incredible.

Cal's not mad, but he's mildly annoyed, and he makes sure that transfers into the tone of his voice. "I'm not gonna do anything, Andre. Well- I am, but not... anything destructive."

That last part really depended on who you asked. Cal's sure his church's youth group leader would beg to differ.

Andre's too busy looking down at his palms to pay attention, examining a cut he got on his finger from work.

Normally in these situations beforehand there's a deal made between both parties where they agree on not running their mouths, don't kiss and tell and all that shit.

That went without saying in this case.

Andre lifts his gaze and just when Cal suspects he's gonna start talking again he leans forward to kiss him. He feels stupid as he closes his eyes but he'd feel like more of a jackass if he backed out now. He digs one hand into Andre's mid-thigh while the other sits pressed against the ground, clenched into a fist. The way he's leaning over is mildly uncomfortable but Andre's hand reaches out to clutch his shoulder and if he wanted to he could always pull back now, but he doesn't. Andre's lips are softer than Cal expected, and he isn't sure how long he's had his mouth just pressed against his but he doesn't taste like anything, just Andre... and saliva. It's not bad, he thinks, it's just... weird. Then again, he can't say he remembers a time where he first kissed someone and it didn't feel weird. Heat pools in his stomach, curdling like milk. He withdraws for a little over a second before Andre's lips are back on his, and it's better than before because their mouths are actually moving together now. Although, it's choppy and warm, a little too warm. Andre's body is as stiff as a board and if their mouths weren't moving in sync, Cal could've equated this experience to kissing a mannequin.

When he feels the muscles in his arms start to cramp up he pulls back, a bit suddenly. Avoiding eye-contact until he's turned his body away from Andre. For a minute, nothing's said.

Until Cal finally breaks the silence.

Acting like he's given it much thought, he utters. "Alright... I... I think I get it now."

"What?" Andre's voice sits just above a whisper.

"Why that girl that kissed you in seventh grade never kissed you again." Cal laughs a little, pulling at his shirt. "That was terrible." It doesn't sound like a lie, but he himself can't tell if it is.

Andre actually looks somewhat offended. He states the opposite, but it's apparent he's not very confident in his kissing skills at all. Having said that, because Andre is Andre, he has to retaliate, gaining back his - albeit, fake - confidence. "Shut up. I just gave you precious spank bank material that would last you a lifetime. Please, spare me the graphic details of your future wet dreams with me!"

Cal grins, rolling up his sleeve and scratching his arm. "If I had any don't act like you wouldn't wanna know. Your pride would sky-rocket if I ever creamed my pants at the thought of you. I can see your ego growing now just thinking about it."

Andre sniffles. "I don't think it can get any bigger, man." Although he's joking, some sort of half-truth in self-awareness reveals itself.

Cal wrinkles his brows and stares directly at him, bitting back a smile he whispers as monotonously as he can "What gay porn video did you steal that line from?", giving in and laughing a deeper-than-usual, odd, uneven chuckle by the time he finishes his sentence that would likely creep Andre out if they didn't know each other.

He figures it's because of his delivery, but instead of Andre trying to counterattack or one-up him, he starts cackling, screwing his eyes shut and falling over to his side, laughing one of those painful laughs, the kind that makes your entire body ache.

After half a minute or so of catching his breath, he starts up, "This… this is faggot. Not some goddamn shirt from... JCPenney or whatever." referencing the infamous JCPenney story Cal's sure he's heard over a dozen times now, not that he minded all that much. Every time Andre told it, it was almost as if it invisibly marked an era in their lives, it always stayed the same although they didn't. Calvin finds himself giggling along with him, but he knows that wasn't a situation Andre could've shrugged off back when it happened, he didn't shrug off 'teasing' at all. Everything that was said to him he choked down, having it all worm around in his gut and tie together Zero Day's roots.

Laughter weakening, more seriously then, Calvin asks, "Yeah, it is... but I mean... does it matter?" the sparsest dose of regret sinking in after the words already left his mouth. Too late, he supposes.

"What?" Andre questions.

"Does it matter what's faggot or not at this point? It's so... stupid. We're not sticking around much longer... neither are they." Resentment slinks itself between his words, and then distaste burns in his mouth, acidic, nearly.

It wasn't that Calvin was gay - not that it'd even make a difference - if he was he thinks he would've known by then, but as the days go on, he feels himself growing more and more apathetic towards everything that once troubled him. There was nothing left but the forever static familiarity with revulsion. Caring seemed so foreign, pointless. He'd be dead in three months. That was more than fine with him, that was what he wanted, but he wasn't going to spend his last months on this planet losing sleep over the social conformity that had hung over his head for so long. He had wasted years longing to fit in. For what? What did all of it mean to him anymore? Nothing. He was born for something that eradicated the concept of conforming entirely.

He was going to take his bite out of the world, chew it up and spit it right back out.

Andre's mouth falls into a straight line, eyes dark with thought, keeping quiet for a moment before responding dubiously. "Yeah. That's true."

It is. Cal knows Andre knows it is. He was the first to act in resistance, the one who went on tangents about how meaningless the social boundaries that had been established were, how much he hated the injustice of the entire system and those who blindly followed it. Except it hadn't always been that way, Andre did use to care, possibly more than everyone else did.

He folds his hands over his stomach.

There's stillness again, quietness. But the shared silence between them always seemed better than solitude.

This time, it's Andre's turn to break it.

"Would you kiss Rachel?"

Huh.

Cal's chest constricts a little at the question. He wants to say yes, mostly because sure, he won't lie, although he might not be actively pursuing Rachel and had no intentions to, he liked her and wouldn't pass up such opportunity if it presented itself, but partially because he knows how Andre will react, and even if Andre's jealousy frustrated him on occasion, it always felt nice knowing he cared enough to even feel jealous over him, how unintentionally obvious he made it. He's biased because he isn't living it, he guesses, but Cal decides it wouldn't bother him all that much if Andre spent some of his time with somebody else if their places were switched. Andre mattered to him more than anyone else did, but when it came to situations that didn't involve Zero Day, Cal knew he was the less co-dependent one out of the two of them.

Even if the opportunity had risen, according to Andre himself there wasn't anyone he would rather be spending his time with instead. Once when Cal asked if there was anybody from school he wouldn't mind being friends with, Andre thought about it for a total of three seconds before replying:

No, everyone in that place is an asshole, a retard or both. The whole fuckin' lot of them.

He was abnormally pissed that day, though, so Cal decided to not push his luck and take Andre's word for it. Was it bullshit? When he said it, it might've been, but if Andre's need for acceptance hadn't drowned long ago, it certainly had by the time Zero Day was set in motion. He tolerated a handful of people who'd been friendly with him in the past and Rachel. Just for Cal's sake. It's funny that in spite of how different their sheer natures were, and how much they happened to dislike each other, Andre and Rachel's emotions uncannily resembled one another's at times. He thinks maybe in another universe, where the world wasn't a shithole littered to hell and back with breathing, living rot, and humanity wasn't staring down the barrel of their own smoking gun, things could've been a lot different for the three of them.

Calvin almost feels remorseful for what he'll do come May 1st, then he looks over at Andre again.

He shrugs his shoulders, "Yeah, maybe." resting his chin on top of his knee and throwing a half-smile his way.

Andre frowns in return, snorting. "Well, good luck with that. She never shuts her fat mouth long enough to give any guy the chance."

Cal hums, running his tongue over the front of his teeth, he wonders for a second about what it would've been like to kiss Andre, Rachel, or anyone when he still had his braces on... awful, logically, too much metal. He cringes at the thought of his brace-laced teeth smacking against somebody else's, digging his fingers into the earth below. Just now he notices they've been sitting there long enough that once they get up both their asses will be covered in grass stains, the image makes him scoff.

Not getting a response from Cal, Andre goes on about Rachel, "... She probably doesn't even know how to kiss." mindlessly tearing out strands of grass from the ground beneath him and aimlessly throwing them with mediocre force.

Set on pushing Andre's buttons, he tries him again, "You don't know how to kiss." a clear teasing undertone in his voice, laughing a little at the realization that they've come full circle.

Andre catches onto it, a small smile rising on his face as he plays along. "Oh, yeah, you should know, since you're Mister Casanova, just fucking chicks left and right?"

Calvin smirks, if he was currently standing up he'd be bracing himself for a swift kick in the balls. "Well... you can always ask your mom if you really wanna kn-"

Andre juts his elbow into Cal's side, not giving him the chance to finish his sentence. Nevertheless, he smiles brightly, "God, you're such a fuckin' creep! If you were anyone else," stopping himself to laugh now as well because Cal started laughing first. "you'd be dead right now, man. Consider yourself lucky we're friends."

Cal had thought before about how since they came together, and everything fell into place, he had started doubting more and more the existence of coincidences until whatever remained of them had vanished entirely.

And even if he's certain Andre would never actually hurt him, if he believed in luck he would consider himself lucky. More than just unusually.

Still, as he blocks his best friend's blows with his forearms and he laughs into the sleeves of his shirt, he can't say he hates the way Andre's voice gets high and pitchy when he's pretending to be mad.


AN: The title for this work is taken from Liz Phair's song of the same name, I listened to it on repeat a lot during the process of writing this. I hope you enjoyed this (... probably fluffy?) fic. Feel free to leave me a review. Thank you for reading.