September 16th, 2000, 6:03 PM
Cal switched on the camera and leaned back into view. He glanced around the neighborhood quickly. It was a mild autumn day, his favorite kind of day.
"Okay," he started. "I, you know… I'm ready for Zero Day now." he looked up thoughtfully and pulled his hand up to the nape of his neck. "I'm ready for it to happen whenever it happens."
The camera cut away. "I'm standing where I need to be standing, and I'm just trying to save this spot I'm at for when it actually happens because, you know, now's that I'm inspired."
September 16th, 2000, 7:12 AM
"You've got mail!" Cal flinched slightly, forgetting he left the volume on his computer all the way up. He opened the e-mail. It was from Andre.
"hey man, I'm sick so I'm not comin to school, can you take the bus or something?" Cal typed up a quick reply.
"yeah, it's fine."
Cal continued with his usual morning routine, now dreading school just a little bit more. School already sucked enough but with Andre there at least he hadn't blown his brains out yet.
Much to everyone's surprise, Andre really was sick and spent the day lying in bed in his sick clothes, which consisted of some old, grey sweatpants and a t-shirt he'd had since like, the 8th grade, playing video games, eating the inordinate amount of soup his mom left him, and mostly feeling sorry for himself.
He thought about Zero Day, too.
Although it's something he'd never admit, even to Cal, in some of his more private moments, Andre wondered if Zero Day was the way to go.
Each day they grew nearer to it, it became less of a fun fantasy and more real, more tangible, and more nerve-racking. He knew this was what he wanted, he wanted it so bad, but now it was like this burden. It was his and Cal's responsibility and the pressure was on.
He would teeter-totter the pros and cons until he convinced himself it had to be done.
Cal was always good at making Andre feel better about it, too. If Andre expressed any hesitance, Cal had this way of reasoning things out in a way that made sense to him. They got each other in a way that no one ever had and in that way, they belonged somewhere.
4:07 PM
Andre was surprised to hear the phone ring at that time of day. He stretched across his night stand to grab the receiver, mumbling something about "fucking telemarketers".
"Hello?"
"Andre?" He blinked a few times before realizing who it was. He looked at his clock, surprised to find it was already late afternoon.
"Cal? What's up?"
"Is it cool if I come over?" Cal sounded off somehow and Andre couldn't quite place it. Was it urgency?
"Uh… yeah I guess. I mean, I'm really sick so I might be contagious-"
"Okay, cool, 'cause I'm already almost at your house." There was a click and then the dial tone.
Andre stared at the phone, "What the?"
A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. Andre reluctantly dragged himself from bed to answer it.
"You know, I should just give you your own key-" He stopped himself at the sight of Cal. "Holy shit, dude, what the fuck happened?" Cal just stormed past him trying to conceal the giant bruise on his arm and the rip in his shirt.
12:24 PM
Cal had hoped to go the day unnoticed, like usual, but it was harder when you were on your own. You were an easier target.
Just lay low, he kept repeating to himself. The plan had been going well until he accidentally made eye contact with a jock outside of the library. Just lay low, he repeated to himself as he flew sideways into a wall.
"Hey, where's your butt buddy?" The bully had him pinned against some lockers. Cal just looked away, clenched his fists, and hoped it would end soon. He picked Cal up and slammed him into the lockers again, this time a combination lock stabbed into his ribcage making him cringe with pain. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, faggot!"
Cal glared at him, trying to keep cool. This bully was no Brad Huff, but he knew him from somewhere. He was probably just one of Brad's stupid friends. This guy was a joke, living his pathetic life in oblivion. Cal was above him and he knew it. Soon this shit stain would know, too.
"What?" he cooed mockingly. "You gonna cry now, baby? Did I make baby cry?" He snickered, while Cal's face contorted in anger, painful tears stinging his eyes. The jock threw him to the ground, with Cal's right elbow breaking the fall. He tried to curl into a ball just as the tall wrestler rammed his foot straight into Cal's stomach, knocking out every ounce of air from his lungs. He laid there, trying to catch his breath just as the bell rang and people scurried past. Brad's friend ran off, guffawing the whole time.
Cal was three minutes late to 6th period. Nobody asked what happened to him.
"Just some asshole. He caught me outside the library." Cal sat his bag down. "You don't look so good yourself," he remarked, with a weak smile.
"Yeah well, I'm sick. Like actually sick." Andre started. He went to the freezer and grabbed a bag of frozen peas. "Cliche, I know, but it'll help." He handed it to Cal who reluctantly accepted. "Thanks…"
They went back to Andre's room and Cal slowly eased the cold bag onto his arm, flinching at first the settling it back down. They sat in silence for a several moments before Andre interrupted it.
"So…" he started awkwardly, tapping his fingers on his knee. "Do you wanna, like, talk about it, or…?" Cal stared off to the right, unresponsive. "Look, I know you don't like telling all the 'how Cal got beat up' stories but if you can talk to anyone, you know…" Andre trailed off as he noticed Cal's face; he was turning really red. "Yo, dude, are you alright?"
Cal stood up abruptly and kicked over the chair he'd been sitting on. "God!" Andre jumped somewhat. "I'm just so fucking sick of it!" He shoved Andre's dresser, which wobbled for a few seconds. "Why?! Why can't I just ever be fucking happy for once?! It's not fucking fair!" He kicked the same dresser, this time it slammed back loudly against the wall and caused Cal to lose his balance and fall back onto the floor. His hands covered his face and he let out a frustrated yell that faded into a whimper. "It's not fair… Why can't I just be like everyone else?" He repeated, crying into his palms.
Andre glanced stiffly around the room, unsure of what to do or say. Though uncertain, he slowly lowered himself to the floor and carefully put a hand on Cal's back, "Hey, shh, c'mon man. Just... relax." Andre could feel him shaking uncontrollably under his hand. "Cal, c'mon shh. Calm down, alright?" He gently scooted Cal a little closer and gawkily rubbed his back. Although he felt mildly awkward being the comforter for possibly the first time in his life, he wanted to do anything to make Cal feel better. He understood his pain completely, better than anyone. He knew if he were the one on the floor baring his soul, he'd want someone to be there for him.
And out of nowhere, Andre felt angry. Through the tear in Cal's shirt, he could see a cluster of nasty bruises on his ribs and stomach. Cal never wronged anybody, he minded his own business and this is what he gets? For no fucking reason? These were the moments that solidified Zero Day in his mind.
"Man, if I'd fucking been there…" his fist clenched.
They both sat there in that spot for a while, Cal eventually calming down and his breathing evening out, the occasional sniffle here and there.
Finally he spoke, "If you'd been there,"
"What?"
Cal turned to face Andre. "you'd be looking a lot like this right now." He finished, with a sly grin.
Andre laughed. "What the fuck does that mean? I'm like the toughest motherfucker in that school."
Cal sat up straight, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "That is a load of horse shit and you know it."
"Nah man, I would've ripped his head off and eaten it." Cal snorted and shook his head. It was quiet again for a split second.
Andre rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry I'm not so good at that kind of thing. I sort of didn't know what the fuck to do." Cal shrugged nonchalantly, looking away.
"I don't even know why you'd come to me. I'm sure that Rachel bitch could've made you feel a lot better." Andre grinned, miming obscene gestures.
Cal smiled but his eyes remained somber. "C'mon man, don't talk about her like that." Andre simply laughed.
Their eyes locked for a long moment until Andre broke the contact uneasily.
Cal spoke softly, "I've known it since the moment I met you. This is what we're meant to do."
Andre could only nod agreeingly. "I know."
10:42 PM
Andre laid in bed thinking about what had happened. He'd never seen Cal react so violently, he was usually the violent one. I guess that's what happens when you bottle it all up, he thought.
At dinner, his dad had mentioned how Cal looked. "Looks like he got in some trouble at school."
"Yeah," Andre replied, thoughtlessly pushing the mashed potatoes on his plate. His mother sighed.
"The poor thing. He's such a sweet boy."
"Yeah," he stabbed a piece of broccoli.
"If only you'd been there to help him, Andre." she remarked.
"Yeah, you could've roughed 'em up a bit." his father replied with a chuckle.
Andre set down his fork, making a loud clink. "Mom, do you mind if I go to bed now? I'm not that hungry." She reached over and pat his arm.
"Sure thing, sweetie. Go rest up."
If only you'd been there to help him, Andre.
The words had been reverberating in his brain since dinner. If only I had, he thought. But what could he do? I mean sure, he talked tough but he wasn't actually. Cal had been right, Andre would've looked exactly like him if he'd been there. Andre could walk the walk and have as much bravado as he wanted but truth was, he was weak. Weaker than most people in a lot of ways; he felt insecure almost all the time and just wanted to be accepted, even by, and especially by the people he hated. Of course he would never admit this to anyone, not even himself.
Andre sighed heavily then turned over in bed, shut his eyes and attempted to sleep. School was tomorrow.
