Build Me Up, Margerinecup
By a.j.
He could clearly remember the first time he talked to James. It was nine days into the school year, before Freddy left him for a ho-bag-bitch from hell, and the first time he was forced out of his thoughts and into reality.
"Excuse me…"
Zack's brain had finally registered the person speaking to him. He looked forward and saw a face grinning at him. Skin dark as a Star-fucks specialty with just enough creamer mixed into it, hair curly and wild about his face, the immense whiteness of his teeth coming from the forest of shadows startling. First impression? Fag. Big, fucking fag. Judging by his tight black t-shirt and dark, designer jeans with distressed thigh and knee areas and brown and orange Etnies, not to mention the way that the boy was looking at him. Still, Zack didn't get that look often, so he guessed he kind of liked this boy already.
"Uh, what? Sorry, what?"
"My pencil is under your shoe. Can I have it back?"
Zack blushed a bit, bent over and retrieved the pencil. He reached out to give the boy his pencil back, but instead of just taking the pencil the dark skinned boy grabbed Zack's hand as if to shake it. Except for the fact that he didn't shake it.
"James Alcala."
Zack gulped a little to himself, staring at their hands. This moment seemed really, really big, but then again it could just be his Big Gay Girly side coming out.
"Zack Mooneyham," he countered, finally, brushing the bangs out of his eyes. This made James smile.
"Hang out with me at lunch sometime." Zack could get used to that smile.
"Oh, I can't, I eat with my, uh, friend, Freddy."
"Well," he said, the tone of his voice sounding like he knew something Zack didn't. "The offer always stands."
It was then that Zack realized that James had already taken his hand and his pencil back, even if he could still feel them on his hands, hot as Hell-fire.
Dinner that night was tense, his dad still angry that he had been late to work on Zack's behalf, himself because of the angry messages he had deleted off of the machine before anybody else came home, and his mother because she didn't want to set off fucking World War III. And besides, the best he would be able to do was shout and throw peas at the mother fucker, and then he would get grounded and escorted to class again, so he really didn't see the point. So he did the only thing he could do, which was shut the hell up, eat his damn peas, and when he was done he excused himself quietly and left to go to his room.
He fell back on his bed, exhausted from the day. Still, for some reason no matter how much he told his mind that he was tired and needed sleep, his mind kept on thinking about the day. About how great Freddy was for leaving his friends for him. About how now those same friends were calling Zack every bad name in the world and telling him how he was going to get the shit kicked out of him. About how he wasn't worth Freddy's time. It was just the thing to make Zack wonder why he ever talked to people and why he bothered feeling lonely, if this is what it meant to have friends. He didn't even really understand why they were all out to get him. It never seemed like they were that tight-knit of a group in the first place, so why they would get angry was beyond him. But then, he really had no clue about them in the first place and, more importantly, whether they were smart enough to figure out what was going on.
Zack picked up the remote to his sound system off of the floor and turned on Coldplay, the sad, emo music sharply contrasting the happy sounds he had been listening to earlier, especially since it wasn't as if he wanted to broadcast to the world that he even owned the Coldplay CD. Just as "Spies" was coming on the phone rang and he picked it up without thought, expecting it to be one of his father's co-workers or somebody like that.
"Mooneyham residence," he drawled, kicking his bed as he lay on his back.
"Are you listening to Parachutes?"
"Fuck, Freddy?" Zack hurried to turn his music down, embarrassed enough that somebody caught him listening to emo-pop, not to mention that it was his boyfriend and that he was pretty sure they were still at the stage where it was okay to hide things.
Freddy only laughed at Zack's response and confessed "Well, I'm listening to X&Y, so."
Zack laughed at this, feeling like it had been years since he was laughed.
"So I guess we're both lame."
"Well at least we're lame together." Freddy paused, and Zack could mentally picture him much like he himself was, laying down on his bed, staring at the ceiling, fiddling with his t-shirt. He heard Freddy take a deep breath on the other line, the kind where their mouths are too close to the phone so you can hear little pops and crackles with it. "Um, hey, did you get any messages?"
"They called you, too?"
"Yeah. Threatening to kill me and shit. Jesus, I had forgotten how protective they are of 'The Group.'" Zack sensed the air-quotes and laughed nervously.
"So they're always like this?"
"I wouldn't know, the only person who ever left their group since it started in third grade left before I joined it. Exclusive membership or some shit like that. Anyway, they said they harassed her so much she convinced her parents to move out of the fucking state."
"Shit, Freddy."
"They could just be exaggerating. Who the hell knows, I was too scared to ask." He paused again, this time too long.
"Hey. You okay?"
"Yeah," Freddy answered quickly, if not somewhat shakily. "I'm just kind of worried. I mean, fuck, my life finally starts to get good and before the day is over it's all fucked up again. I never thought they wouldn't accept you. Well, okay, so you were kind of a topic that was brought up a lot and we made fun of you a lot, but, uh, um. Yeah. Sorry? I was stupid. And, um, you're hot?"
Zack smiled to himself. "Whatever."
"I'm sorry. Really. I was stupid. Shallow, even. But I was still hot. But stupid. And you're the greatest thing that's happened to me, really. We should spend every night cramped together in a tiny tent, because that was one of the best experiences of my life, and not just because we were sleeping together. Even if we didn't fuck. Jesus, Zack, I can't stop thinking about fucking you. I know that sounds stupid, but dammit, I want you, Zack, I want you bad. And you need to fucking stop laughing, because I'm fucking serious. That's it. We're so over." He paused. "Shut the fuck up, Zack, and quit laughing."
But all of this pleading only made Zack laugh that much more, now halfway off the bed and clutching his sides, tears streaming down his face.
"Freddy, you're the God damn funniest person I know."
"I was serious!" Freddy gasped, almost shrieked, obviously faking hurt.
"That's what funny."
"No, I mean it. I'm sorry," he said, sounding genuinely sorry.
"I know." He picked himself up off of the floor where he had finally ended up and got back on the bed. All of this "sorry" shit made him uncomfortable and, okay, at least somewhat annoyed. Of course, that doesn't mean Freddy would stop doing it. Of course.
"Do you forgive me for being the biggest asshole this side of the Mississippi?"
"Yes, I forgive you for fuck's sake. Now shut up." Obviously the annoyed side of him was starting to win out over the uncomfortable.
"What, no punishment? No bad-boy spanks?"
That made Zack snort out loud before he could stop himself, and he could almost hear Freddy's grin stretch over his mouth over the phone.
"Do I need to ask what you and the Skanks of the Week did?" Zack countered, already reminded as to why he missed Freddy so much. Playful banter was hard to come by unless you were a cast member on some WB show.
"Obviously not as much as you and James did," Freddy countered. Zack laughed half-heartedly, humming to himself.
"I guess you'll never know, will you?" Zack teased him, liking the desperate Freddy who begged. Not in any sexual way or anything. Of course.
"Come on, Zack. God, you have to be the fucking lamest guy I know. You have a seriously hot guy-"
"Don't forget humble."
"-who is ready and really, really, really willing to let you fuck his brains out, but you decide to be all Mr. Celibate. What the fuck, really."
"You know you like it," Zack pointed out.
"I knew I should have stayed with the girls that put out," Freddy teased right back.
"Come on, baby, they don't love you like I love you," Zack did his best attempt at a low purr, even if it came out sounding more like a crackling hen trying to be seductive.
"Ooh, are we going to be doing Yeah Yeah Yeahs now?" The next thing Zack heard was a loud howl and a high pitched voice coming from the other end so loudly that he had to hold the phone away from his ear.
"Hot night! Dun dun dun! Cold light! Dun dun dun! Be my heater be my love! Dun dun dun dun dun dun and we can do it to each other! Go go go go go!" What followed was Freddy doing his best to imitate the guitar and the drums at the same time, and then a loud shout of "ride, Daddy, ride!"
"Okay, shut up, shut up! There's a reason I'm the lead singer." Zack managed to shout through his laughter. It worked, Freddy's voice returning at a normal level, sounding quite winded.
"You know I'm better than Karen O., babe. So much better." He paused to huff a few times. "Shit, Zack, you've got me dancing around my room and thrusting my hips like a fucking glam rocker or some shit. What's wrong with me."
"Must be my hypnotic personality," Zack deadpanned. Freddy laughed in response, low and raspy.
"Your turn. Sing me a song."
"The hell. I don't know. I can't think of any songs," Zack was still laughing. Dammit, but he couldn't stop giggling like a little girl.
"Sing me. Shit. Backstreet Boys."
"The fuck, Freddy?" Zack almost screamed this. "You think I know Backstreet Boys songs?"
"You know Coldplay," Freddy teased. "Come on, dig deep into your childhood! I'll start singing if I have to." He paused, and when Zack didn't do anything, he continued. "Fine, I'll start." He cleared his throat and started singing, his voice crackling. "I don't care who you are, where you're from…"
Zack started in quietly, both amazed and embarrassed that he knew any of this song.
"Don't care what you did as long as you love me," he sang. He could hear the smug smile on Freddy's side of the line as he sang, making Zack sing a bit louder. "Don't care who you are, where you're from, what you did, as long as you love me. Every little thing that you have said or done!"
It was as he sang the last line that he realized he was singing alone, making him stop abruptly. He heard nothing from the other line, making him think that maybe Freddy was laughing into a pillow somewhere to try to make Zack feel better.
"That's enough of that." He paused, waiting for some response from Freddy. "You can stop laughing into a pillow or whatever the hell you're doing."
"I wish you would sing me to sleep," Freddy whispered into the phone. For not the first time in the conversation, Zack was glad it was being held over the phone as he felt his face burn up at the comment.
"Shit, Freddy," be breathed. "All you have to do is put in our CD."
"Yeah, but you know it's not the same. But I guess it will have to do until we move in together," Freddy sighed. This made Zack choke a bit.
"Oh, we're moving in together now?"
"Well yeah, we wouldn't want the kids to be separated, would we?" Zack smiled at the amusement he could hear in Freddy's voice. "Damn, Zack. Damn. You're going to get me into trouble."
This comment made Zack's heart beat faster, making him feel like a fucking girl. "What does that mean?"
This was answered with a chuckle from the other end. "Nothing. Don't worry about it. Hey, I think we should have a song."
"Freddy, you don't just decide what your song is. It just becomes your song. That's what normal couples do."
"Zack, what about us makes you think we're a normal couple? Besides, I've already decided what our song is." Zack waited patiently as Freddy imitated a drum roll, imagining him sitting up in bed and thrumming on his bedside table. Not that he'd been in Freddy's room for a few years, but still. He liked to imagine that it was just the same. "The song of Freddy and Zack is now, oh-so-totally, 'Maps.'"
"'Maps'? Not some rock anthem or anything?"
"Hey, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs are rock," Freddy returned. "Besides, it's a pretty song for pretty people."
"I thought we were hot," Zack returned.
"Baby, we're everything and a bag of chips." This made Zack laugh and the conversation fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments.
"We'll be cool," Freddy breathed into the phone.
"Yeah." Zack understood.
"See you tomorrow. Want to meet in front of the school?"
"I'll be there. Unless I get jumped by What's-Her-Face." This, in turn, made Freddy laugh, and Zack savored the sound.
"I think this is the part where I say something sentimental and sweet, like I miss you or I lo-" he paused. "Well, you know."
"Yeah," Zack breathed. The conversation paused again.
"Bye, Zack Attack."
"Bye, Fred D."
Zack clicked off the phone and stared at the ceiling. For the first time in awhile he could hear the CD playing again and, like some silly, girly sign, it was playing "Everything's Not Lost." He decided to take it as some silly, girly sign and believe that maybe everything would turn out okay after all.
"Zack." He turned his face to see his father glaring at him from the doorway. "Don't let me catch you tying up the phone lines for that long ever again."
And then he was gone.
The next few days passed almost like clockwork, so much so that Zack almost forgot to worry. Almost. He and Freddy fell into an almost groove, meeting in the morning, making eyes with each other in Science, eating together in the bathroom at lunch (how could they make out otherwise?), and meeting after school for their last goodbye kisses before home. Then Freddy would call at night and they would talk for a half an hour and go to bed. It was almost perfect, and his parents were starting to notice how much happier he seemed. His father asked if he had "finally gotten a girl," but his mother correctly guessed that Feddy had "finally come to his senses" and the band was "doing well again." Zack made a mental note to himself to keep his secrets extra safe from his mom.
It wasn't until at night that he remembered to worry again. The most that had happened was on the first day he had gotten shoved a few times in the hall by one of Freddy's old friends, which seemed weird since they had supposedly been able to fucking drive people out of the state, so he began to wonder what the hell was up.
When Friday rolled around he forgot to worry, especially since that meant the First Band Practice Since He and Freddy Made Up. He knew the others would be worried, and he worried that some of them might not come, especially since it wasn't like they talked to the others outside of practice. He wondered what they would think. That they were friends again? They would be right. That they were crazy? They would be more right than they knew. He wondered, mostly, if they would be able to Tell. He had even brought this up with Freddy the night before, voicing his concern that they were too Obvious. Freddy told him not to worry, but then they started really talking about it. Wondering that the others would think. They finally realized that they really had no clue what the others would think. It wasn't like homosexuality was the biggest conversation topic they had ever discussed. In fact, they had never discussed it. And what would that be like?
"So, like, you know those gay people? Yeah."
"Oh, I know."
Yeah. In the end, they both decided that as long as they didn't touch or really look at each other too much, the others would never know. Because they were genius like that. Totally.
Which is probably why they were both surprised when the others came into the room and before even saying hello or any shit like that, Summer screamed out loud "Zack, you're gay?"
Freddy looked at Zack. Zack looked at Freddy. Both of their faces said the exact same thing.
Oh. Shit.him angry.