At a regular high school, missing three weeks would probably result in automatic failure, seeing as though it would be nearly impossible to catch up.

Luckily for Marshall, his own school hardly cared. Nowadays they wanted to get rid of as many students as possible, as they secretly planned to shut down in a few years and sell the building to some wealthy land owners. Anything was better than wasting several thousand pretending to care about the future delinquents who further fermented those broken down walls. The only student almost permanently stuck in this dump was Lumps, because without some form of janitor the blue mold under the toilet seats was sure to overpopulate.

So Marshall returned to school. Fiona had offered to get him transferred over to attend her snooty little private school, but Lee politely declined. He had his reasons. He wasn't about to tell them to anyone, but they were there, prominent like a spotlight jammed into his wrinkly brain. He had no idea how he was going to catch up, but he was going to try his hardest, and hopefully not kill himself or someone else in the process.

So on the fourth week Marshall had returned, armed with coffee-stained notebook paper and an entire package of strawberry bubblegum. And of course, just a small dosage of guts, which he most certainly was going to need. All his classes whisked by faster than intended, though the ones Bubba was also attending drug on the longest, and the other boy of course refused to meet his stare. In their final class however, Bubba slid him a note, scrawled so neatly in that swirly snowflake handwriting that Marshall's heart bounced just glancing at it.

Unlike the prince, the note was not drawn out or intricate at all, simply a folded sheet of paper with eight soft words painted on the dead tree canvas. "Lockers. After school. This is not a request."

Marshall was tempted not to show up, but that would likely worsen things, and he had no energy to start a rebellion. As early as 3:30 sharp he stood in front of the other boy's door, but somehow Bubba had gotten there beforehand and was already waiting, tapping his foot as if he had spent a century's time in that skinny little walkway. At the sight of Marshall, he flicked his wrist quickly, glancing at his wristwatch for the slightest of milliseconds.

Angel's locker was nearby, and upon seeing the two boys together, he growled.

"Took you long enough, didn't it?" Bubba inquired, reaching into his back pocket. Marshall half expect him to retract a gun, and shoot him in the face. Maybe even a small pocket knife, and stab Marshall in the heart several times in a row. Maybe Bubba would pull out a stick of dynamite, and hand it to him with a sick smile slapped across his pretty face.

But what he revealed was not a weapon at all but another piece of paper, folded into a neat little square, the most adorable square Marshall had ever seen. If humans were capable of falling in love with blank white squares, they'd all be throwing their panties at this one.

Bubba slipped it into Marshall's hand very quickly, but there was no denying that stupid tingle the moment their hands met.

Marshall unfolded it. It was the exact same drawing he had doodled in class, the same one he almost got in trouble for. From a slight distance Angel was still fuming. Marshall blushed, quickly crumpling up the pale striped sheet and cramming it into his book bag.

"Do whatever you want with it, I don't care."

"Then why didn't you just throw it out?"

Bubba held back a groan of frustration, turning away and beginning to walk.

"Why don't you just throw it away?" Bubba retorted, although his response was laced in ice and did not really answer the question.

Against his better judgment Marshall followed him. Fiona was supposed to pick him up from school but Lee seemed to entirely disregard this bit of knowledge as he dumbly followed the figure in front of him. "Well if that's all I was wondering if you found-"

"Found what?!" Bubba snapped loudly. A little too loudly. Several students on their way to the parking lot looked back at them, causing Marshall to cave his shoulders in and snap his head downward to form his own barrier, an automatic turtle shell. Lee's heart skipped a beat, and he kept his sweaty palms buried in the front pockets of his navy blue hoodie. There were a handful of stains on the outside of it, small dots lining the collar.

By now they were out of the main crowd, but there was still a fairly thick stream of high school students wandering around the two like headless chickens.

"They should still be in your room, if you want we can drop by and-"

My god. He's talking about his fucking underwear? I'm going to have to let him over again, over a stupid pair of-

"They hardly fit you anyways," he recalled, opening the driver's side door and allowing it to swing back and slice open innocent air molecules. Everything was violence.

Marshall forced a small laugh, slipping into the passenger's side without so much as a hint of permission. The inside of the car seemed to be tinted pink as well, a detail Lee had failed to notice before. Bubba himself once more wore not a hint of visible pink on his body, not even a measly bow or necktie.

"You're right of course, but I really can't afford to buy any more..." Technically, he could not afford to pay for light and heat and water either, but somehow Marshall had yet to be visited by Child Services, or get kicked out of his own home.

For a while they rode in silence, the sun glaring meanly and Bubba glaring right back at it. Marshall spoke up as they passed the Piggly Wiggly grocery store, clearing his throat before beginning conversation.

"The other day...my freak-out wasn't really fair to you, I was hurting and i wanted someone else to hurt too."

Bubba stomped the gas pedal, clutching more tightly at the steering wheel before him.

As if I wasn't hurting prior as well. Only thinking of himself, as always.

"I don't want you to hate me, I kind of, umm I don't not like you…"

"What are you trying to say? You need to stop, you need stop right now."

"I've been a bit douche-y and all but I still don't think you hate me, I think maybe you like me too? And I think you're very nice and pretty and umm...I'm sorry I guess."

The words were all there even if they were assembled in messy kindergartner format, and Marshall chewed more rapidly at the gum in his mouth in attempt to distract from what he had just said. His face was fire but the driver screamed stone, staring straight at the road and keeping his lovely body completely solid. It was strange that he just kept babbling like an idiot, a little too stupid and impulsive, even for him.

Nice? I'm fucking terrible to you, are you kidding? Do you even know what you're saying right now? Do you think this is okay?

Bubba squinted further into the oncoming traffic, forgetting to worry about all the chaos directly in front of him. He barely made it through the intersection in time. Much more driving like this, and he'd surely be ticketed.

"You guess."

Marshal couldn't hear his own words over the pounding of his heart, his face was red and sweaty.

The vehicle was far too hot.

"Sleeping with you is not the automatic equivalent of romantic feelings."

"I saw the flowers."

Shit.

The road made for a lovely excuse for lack of contact, and Bubba was sure to take full advantage of it. The car ride seemed to stretch on into infinity and the prince deeply regretted letting Marshall on board, he deeply regretted ever getting involved with Marshall at all, and most of all he regretted being born.

"They don't make me your boyfriend."

"You held my head in your lap when I passed out. When I get hurt, you get all crazy-obsessive about it, and sure there's probably some mysterious underlying trauma that guides your concern, but I can't help but thinking that it's more than that."

"Speaking of which, if your tongue healed up weird because you didn't listen to my advice, I'm going to kill you."

Bubba did not respond verbally again after his last retort. They pulled into his vast driveway and the orgasmic mansion once more came in to view, a setting sun on the hell of life. The building itself was compiled art, it demanded both reverence and general attention. But Marshall wasn't thinking of the house at all.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, especially about your mother. But you were going to hurt me and I almost let you. I can somewhat tolerate obnoxious boys who don't know how to dress, but I draw the line when it comes to people trying to punch my fucking brains out. I was ready to let you, Marshall, if you had tried to kill me and I didn't snap to my senses like that I would have done nothing, I would have let you hurt me and I can't face that anymore. I didn't think you were just like him."

Marshall wasn't sure who "him" was, but he didn't get a chance to ask.

"I love you."

He didn't mean to say it. He didn't even know if it was true. Bubba didn't think love was real, love was getting touched at night and lying and manipulating. But the way he said it, he meant something else. Something a little less bitter and a little more sweet. It was a stupid, stupid think to say, stupid like wearing pink and bribing someone else simply for their company, stupid like being mean as a defensive mechanism, stupid like thinking you worth can be measured by how often your silk naked body stretches up against the bed sheets along with another. Stupid like collecting worn undergarments as a reminder that at least in one aspect you are useful. So maybe it was a lie, but it was by far the most honest lie ever to be expressed to another person Bubba had known.

Only then his mouth kept mouthing, despite the habitual intention of smothering it with another.

"I love you Marshall Lee, okay?! Is that what you're wanting to hear? I love your laugh and your voice and that face you make in your sleep but it all means nothing, because I am absolutely terrified of you. We aren't friends, we aren't boyfriends, we don't even know what the fuck we are doing and I'm scared. I am angry and I'm scared and I barely know you, excluding the pathetic "I'm sad please sleep with me" and "dead mom" persona. Everything was easier after him and before you. I don't need this."

The sun sunk down into the dirt and melted away.

It wouldn't be returning for a very long time.