Disclaimer: The Animorphs belong to K.A. Applegate, not me.
A/N—I know the Marco-crushing-on-Jake gimmick has been worn to a fine powder by now, but the boy wouldn't stop bouncing around in my head until I gave in and let him talk. Never knows when to shut up, he doesn't…
*
My name is Marco and I have a drinking problem.
Oops, wrong beginning. Scratch one word, though, and it's all good, because I definitely have a problem. Aside from the obvious, I mean, like having enough homework to fill a small swimming pool. And the fact that the Yeerks are invading and it's up to me and my friends to put a stop to it, which inspires about as much confidence as Anna Nicole Smith running for Congress. So you see, homework and stuff becomes kind of secondary to that, but I still have to keep up with it. Because aside from the whole morphing-to-save-the-world-from-evil-slugs thing, I'm just your normal everyday high school kid.
With overactive hormones.
Who happens to have a massive crush on his best friend.
Yeah. As if my life wasn't crazy enough already. He's just…been there, you know? Good old sensible, stoic, boring Jake. A lot of the time it feels like he's been the one constant thing in my life, as cheesy as that sounds. A guy like that you either get attached to or annoyed with. We've known each other forever and been through so much crap together even before we were turning into fleas. He knows me better than anyone, puts up with my jokes and moods--I don't want to lose that. And I like to think he needs me too. I mean, he'd be so stiff without me telling stupid jokes and all; I keep him from getting too serious.
And in order to show my appreciation I ever so sensibly fall in love with him so I can make a fool of myself and send him running in terror for the next plane to Munich. Perfect, Marco.
It's not something I can get rid of either. Seriously, there's nothing more awkward than trying to make out with your girlfriend when you can't get your best friend out of your mind. One or the other's got to go, which means I've been a single guy for over two weeks now, scarily enough. Which, even though it means I don't have to keep making excuses to get out of seeing Crystal, still doesn't mean I'm thinking about him any less. Any more of this repression stuff and I think I'll spontaneously combust. And as cool as it would be to go down in history as a psychological milestone, that really isn't something the Animorphs need right now, no matter what Rachel says.
Anyway, I've mostly been waiting for it to go away, not that it's helping. I've thought a lot about just doing the insane thing and telling him, to get it off my chest, but it's not something I've planned out. I mean, I really don't want him to go to Munich. So mostly I've been staying out of his way, which isn't easy. And then he brings it on himself one day before class.
I'm muttering about math homework and trying to come up with a good excuse I haven't already used ten times and then out of the blue he goes, "So what's up? You've been acting weird all week."
"Weird? I haven't been weird." My voice sounds stupid, high-pitched. I try to grin and know I must look like a dork.
"You like someone, don't you?"
I choke on my gum and he smiles triumphantly. "C'mon, which girl is it now?"
I concentrate on closing my locker and almost slam my hand in it anyway, take a deep breath. "It's not a girl."
"Oh. So what's wrong?" Clueless, totally clueless…
I try again, half expecting to melt into a bubbling puddle of duh. "It's not a girl."
"Yeah, I heard you. So wh…oh. Oh. You mean…?"
I turn to start casually rummaging through my locker again, realize it's closed, and start going through my backpack instead. "Yeah."
"It's no big deal, man."
Of course not, compared to, say, rampaging Hork-Bajir. When you've got that on your back, what does it matter which way your best friend swings?
"Gotta go." He punches me lightly on the arm and leaves. My head feels like it's about to explode. I pound it on my locker anyway.