Shoutouts!

blackblood: YAY SPUTCHY! Haha Closet-cases are so fun. It makes for such great conflict.

Kid Blink's Dreamer: Well, hats off to your muses! They've got the right idea!

Unknown-Dreams: Whenever I read that-Yes, I'm so pathetic that I read my own stories-Specs always sounds tipsy, but ah well.

January 3

Specs opened his eyes and groaned, softly. Brilliant sunlight was streaming through the window, and landing directly across his face. He looked to his left and smiled.

Dutchy was fast asleep, curled up on the very edge of the bed, clutching Specs's hand in his. Gently, Specs nudged him, trying to wake him.

He succeeded, but not in the way he had hoped.

Dutchy, at Specs's nudge, rolled off the edge of the bed and landed on the (thankfully) carpeted floor with a thud!

"OW!" he yelped, rubbing his head. "What was that for?" Specs leaned over the bed and smiled, guiltily.

"Ah, sorry! I was trying to wake you up!"

"Well, you certainly succeeded," Dutchy grumbled, jokingly. He smiled. "How're you feeling?"

"Much better, actually," Specs admitted.

"You ought to. Your fever broke last night." Specs sat up and grimaced.

"I am in dire need of a shower," he said, feeling his hair. Dutchy looked at his watch.

"It's 11:30. Take a shower. I figured you could skip school today so you can get back on track."

Specs grinned, wryly. "Yeah, that and you get to skip, too!" Dutchy fluttered his eyelashes, innocently.

"Why, what ever do you mean? This is simply for your health and benefit!" he cooed. Specs laughed and climbed out of bed. He grabbed a pair of clean boxers and disappeared into the bathroom.

Specs didn't come out of the shower for an hour. He let the water run over his stiff muscles, washing away the grimy residue of sweat.

When he finally emerged, the bathroom was a sauna, and Specs was clean as a whistle.

"Feel better?" Dutchy asked when Specs stepped into the kitchen.

"Much," he sighed. "So, where're we going today?" Dutchy shrugged.

"I figured we'd go grab some lunch, and go from there." Specs nodded.

"Burger King."

What?" he asked, blinking.

"Burger King. I wanna go to Burger King." Dutchy stared in disbelief.

"But, Specs, you're—"

"Burger King."

"Specs, your parents—"

"Burger King."

"Specs are you sure—"

"I haven't eaten anything unhealthy since June, and camp food hardly counts. I've been sick for three days. Now I want Burger King, damn it!" Dutchy grinned.

"All right, Burger King it is." He led the way to the car. "You know, I don't think I've ever heard you cuss before that," he mused, starting the car.

"I spend all my time with you, Dodger, and Racetrack; it was bound to happen."

January 3

"Ra-ace," Dodger whined, "I'm bo-ored!"

"Well, find a way to entertain yourself," Race said, absentmindedly, not looking up from his doodles. She frowned.

"What's that from?"

"I have no idea," he replied, closing his notebook with a sigh. Dodger made a low growling noise in her throat; the one thing that annoyed her most was not knowing the origin of a movie line.

"So, what are we going to do about Davvy and his secret crush?" she asked, leaning forward, her green eyes twinkling with keen interest. Race shrugged.

"Hook 'em up, I suppose. The only problem is—"

"—who is his crush?" she finished. They sat in a thoughtful silence.

"Well, I suppose we have two options. One—"

"—observation."

"Or two—"

"—nagging him until he talks." She paused. "Well, actually, we have three options: we could get him smashed." Race rolled his eyes.

"But he's so innocent he's never even gotten tipsy!" Dodger snickered.

"That's 'cause he has to drive me home!" Race rolled his eyes again.

"Why am I not excruciatingly shocked?"

"Hey, I only drink enough that it'll show up on a cop test. You, on the other hand, get so piss-faced drunk that we have to smuggle you into my house so that you're aunt doesn't lose her marbles, and in the morning we have to spoon-feed you four bottles of aspirin!"

"…That's not the point." She grinned, triumphantly. "Now, I say we start with observation. If Davvy thinks he's being watched, he'll be extra careful. So, we don't want to confront him unless absolutely necessary." Dodger smirked.

"You really get into the whole spy, secret-mission thing, doncha?"

"What can I say? I love James Bond."

January 3

"Hey, Mush," Davvy said, walking over to a tall, muscular boy with curly brown hair and sweet brown eyes. He smiled as Davvy approached him.

"Hey, David."

"Listen, I can't come over today. Do you think we could do it tomorrow?" Mush nodded.

"I have practice after school, but I could probably get out in an hour. We could do it then."

"All right. Cool."

"Who is that?" Dodger hissed, watching as Davvy chatted with a very cute brunette.

"Mush Meyers, drama boy and a regular ladies man," Race narrated.

"Do you think he's The One?" Race rolled his eyes.

"Geez, Dodger, we're looking for his crush, not his soul mate!" Dodger frowned.

"Not The One, just The One!"

"No, he's not. The boy's straight as an arrow. Or he's a closet-case," Race added, thoughtfully. The bell rang.

"All right, let's go before Davvy catches us." Dodger growled. "What's wrong?"

"We have English next." Race nodded, knowingly.

"Ah. Let's go before Davvy gets there."

January 3

"Shit," Kid Blink muttered, as everything in his arms crashed to the floor.

"Sorry," Mush stammered, stooping to gather up Blink's fallen books.

"No problem," Blink replied, squatting next to him. The second bell rang. "Shit, we're late," he graoned.

"I'm really, really sorry," Mush whimpered. Kid Blink was captain and pitcher of the boys' baseball team. Jocks and drama boys don't mix.

"Hey, calm down!" Kid yelped, because Mush was positively shaking. He held out his hand. "I'm Kid Williams, but you can call me Blink."

"Andrew Meyers," he said, quietly, "but I go by Mush." Kid smiled, charmingly, shaking his blonde hair out of his eyes.

"Hi, Mush. Mind walking with me to History?" Mush nodded, and they began their way to Kloppman's class. "So, you're in drama, eh?"

Nod.

"Yeah, I saw you in December. You're pretty good," Kid said, sincerely.

"Thanks," he muttered. He was still tense, Kid could tell.

"Hey, why're you so jumpy?" Mush looked at him like it was painfully obvious.

"Because jocks and drama guys don't mix. It's like, school code, or something. All you jock guys think we're gay, so you beat us up!" Kid smiled, wryly.

"Aren't you all gay?" Mush shrugged.

"Oh, sure, most of us are. But even the ones who aren't get pounded."

"Are you gay?" Mush shook his head.

"Nope. Straight as an arrow, as the saying goes. You might put in a word on that subject, 'cause I've had to make good use of my legs more than once."

Kid Blink said nothing, but he felt his stomach drop, considerably.

Of all the rotten luck…

The one drama boy he had found was the only straight one!

Ah, well. With any luck he'd turn out to be a closet-case. For now, he'd just try and bring the shy boy out of his hole.

'Cause Mush is really cute.

January 3

The front door slammed.

Dutchy froze and stared at the steps. "Mom?" he called, hesitantly.

"Alex? What are you doing home?" Dutchy's mother hurried upstairs to find her son and his best friend on the bed, eating Burger King. "Aren't you supposed to be in school?" Dutchy nodded.

"Yeah, but Specs—"

"Mike," she corrected.

"Specs got a fever. It didn't break until last night. So I gave us today off so he could get some sleep, and to make sure I wasn't contaminated."

"You got sick? Oh, you poor dear!"

And she was off, doting upon Specs as if he still was sick. Dutchy rolled his eyes. His chances of getting out of the house by February were looking very slim.