This chapter was inspired by the song 'Remix (I Like The)' by New Kids on the Block. It was requested by someone unable to log in. Can we all take a moment to appreciate how VIVACIOUS the woman in the music video is? May we all be so lucky.

I guess I'll dedicate this chapter to all the unknown reviewers. You know who you are, even if I don't.

Remix

Gilbert sat with his chin in his hand and pretended to care as the teacher wrote equations across the chalkboard in sure, thick lines. It was June and he was in the twelfth grade; he was this close to freedom and he refused to give a damn.

He glanced out the window and watched the clouds drift past. It was a beautiful afternoon, and he would have given anything to be outside, but his younger brother was keeping an eye on him. He had failed three classes last year and this was his second time through the twelfth grade; his brother was adamant that he did it right this time around, and that meant no skipping classes.

But it was certainly tempting.

The teacher was reaching high on the chalkboard, her short skirt bunching over her rounded thighs, but even that was not enough to hold his attention. Hell, no one was paying attention.

Except for one person.

Gilbert glared at the student sitting to his left, with his head down and his pencil flying across the pages of his notebook. He was actually taking notes, and highlighting whole paragraphs in yellow and orange. Ugh.

His name was… Matthew. Matthew Williams. And whereas Gilbert had been held back a year, Matthew was graduating two years ahead of schedule. What a keener…

He was blonde, Gilbert thought, but he always wore hooded sweaters and kept them pulled up even in the summer heat. His eyeglasses were crooked and bent, with thick lime green frames and tape over the bridge of his nose. There was a small bruise decorating the corner of his mouth and Gilbert knew that he had been in another scuffle.

He came across as quiet and shy and dreadfully, unmistakably gay but he was not a pushover. Gilbert had seen him take on bullies before… He even won sometimes.

Gilbert leaned over and knocked his notebook to the ground. He was not even sure why he did it. Matthew stared at him in surprise.

Gilbert grinned.

"What was that for?" Matthew hissed, bending over to scoop up his notes. He glanced at the teacher, afraid of getting in trouble.

"It's June seventh."

Matthew paused and looked up at him, cocking an eyebrow. Gilbert had never realized how delightfully purple his eyes were.

"… And?"

"And school's almost out."

Matthew blinked.

"… And?" He asked again.

"So stop taking notes, dumbass."

Matthew straightened up and dropped his notebook back onto his desk. Gilbert watched his hands. They looked soft.

"What if this," he gestured to the chalkboard and their teacher's ever rising skirt, "is on the exam next week?"

"It won't be."

"But what if it is?"

"But it won't be!"

Their whispered conversation was starting to catch the attention of the other students. Gilbert revelled in the attention but Matthew flushed, embarrassed.

"How do you know?"

Gilbert snorted.

"Because I took this class last year. Duh."

"… And obviously failed it," Matthew mumbled under his breath. Gilbert heard him anyway and he let loose a short bark of laughter.

He reached over and plucked the notebook out of Matthew's hands. He threw it in his own backpack, for no other reason than to see the other student stutter.

"You can have it back at the end of the week," he declared. Matthew gaped at him.

"But…!"

"No. You need to lighten up, kid."

That had been on Monday. It was now Wednesday morning.

"Can I please have my notebook back?" Matthew asked desperately, hurrying after Gilbert as he weaved through the corridors. He would have been lying if he said that he did not like the attention.

"Nope."

"But exams are coming up and…"

Gilbert looked over at him and adjusted the bag on his shoulder.

"Are you honestly telling me that you haven't been studying for the past, what, two, three months?"

Matthew blushed and tugged on the hem of his oversized sweater, trying to disappear. Gilbert quirked an eyebrow.

The answer have been 'yes', then. Keener...

Gilbert knew that Matthew tried to follow him that same afternoon. He was not exactly inconspicuous, in his bright red sweater and untied sneakers that clicked with each step.

It made Gilbert smile.

His friends kept asking him why he was hanging around the other student; why he was wasting his time on a wallflower. Gilbert just shrugged. It was hard to explain, except that he was bored and Matthew was interesting. And he was fun to tease.

"I know you're there," he shouted over his shoulder, laughing when Matthew squeaked and tripped over his own feet.

"Then give me back my notebook!"

"Make me, short stuff!"

"… I'm taller than you are."

Gilbert frowned and turned around, gauging his height.

"No you're not."

"I am too."

Matthew hurried to stand beside him and straightened up, measuring their height difference with a languid flick of his wrist. It turned out that he was quite a bit taller when he was not hunched over in a misguided attempt to come across as unassuming.

And he was definitely taller than Gilbert.

"Well, fuck."

Matthew beamed and it was the first time that Gilbert had ever seen him smile. It suited him, and Gilbert found himself wanting to see that smile more often.

"I have a problem."

Francis draped himself over his shoulders and poked him in the cheek, clucking his tongue. Antonio chuckled.

"You have ninety nine problems."

"Ha ha, very funny." Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Thanks, man."

"You're welcome." Francis stepped around him and settled into his lap without any regard for his personal space. He toyed with a strand of his pale hair. "But what's bothering you, my dear?"

The three of them were sitting in an unused classroom, sprawled across seven desks pushed together. Antonio was lying on his back with his hands clasped behind his head; Francis had claimed Gilbert as a throne.

"I… I want to ask someone to graduation."

"Ooh! Do tell!" Francis clapped his hands together. Their graduation dinner and dance was next week, and it was the biggest event of the school year.

"I think… I want to ask Matthew."

Francis blinked and Antonio sat up.

"… Matthew Williams? The, uhm, well, 'nerd'?"

Gilbert laughed.

"That's the one."

"I did not know you, ah, felt that way about him," Francis frowned, not upset so much as confused. Antonio patted the top of his head like he was a particularly well-mannered pet.

"How wonderful! Love is a beautiful thing, you know!"

Gilbert flushed and shook his head.

"I like him, sure, but I'm not in love with him or anything."

"Yet," Antonio assured him, humming. Gilbert wanted to argue further but Francis cut him off.

"Does he know that you like him?" He asked, examining his fingernails in a poor excuse for disinterest. Gilbert shrugged.

"He might. I mean, I've been holding his notebook hostage."

"His… Notebook?"

"Don't ask."

"Well, then! You must confess your love beneath the stars and kiss him! Passionately!" Antonio thrust a finger into the air and puffed out his chest. Gilbert just growled and pushed him over with one hand.

"Damn it, Antonio, I said 'no'!"

"… He might be right," Francis ventured.

"Not you too, Francis," he groaned, deflating.

"No, I mean it. I've seen his type before. He's shy and soft spoken, right? Self conscious?"

"I guess."

"Subtlety is lost on him, then." Francis pointed out, matter-of-fact. "Not that you're subtle, of course, but he's the type that assumes he is somehow unlovable. Undesirable, even. He won't know that you're hitting on him because he does not expect you to. He's a wallflower through and through."

Gilbert let that sink in. It almost made sense. Matthew did have that self depreciating, self loathing air to him. It saddened him, because the longer Gilbert spent with the other student, the more he saw that Matthew was intelligent, dedicated, and driven. He was sweet and charming. Hell, he was just plain awesome.

Gilbert saw that now, even if Matthew could not.

"So what should I do, then?"

"I have no idea," Francis shrugged unapologetically. Antonio sniggered and shifted onto his stomach, untying Gilbert's shoelaces with deft fingers.

"… You guys suck," Gilbert pouted.

"Can I have my notebook back?"

"No."

"Please"

"No."

"… How about now?"

"Hey! Hey, Gilbert!" Matthew chased him down the corridor. Someone stuck out their foot to trip him but he took it in stride and jumped. Gilbert frowned and memorized the locker number of the offending student.

He would be back, and they would be sorry.

"Hey, short stuff."

"Gilbert, we talked about this."

"Mmm," he hummed. "Are you alright?"

Matthew stopped short and cocked his head to the side in bewilderment.

"W-what? What do you mean?"

Gilbert gestured to the idiots who had tried to trip him. They were laughing and pointing.

Matthew blushed. He shrugged and avoided eye contact; embarrassed but not upset. Gilbert thought he should be annoyed, at the very least. Hell, he should be furious!

"Oh, them," Matthew rolled his eyes. "That's nothing new. I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't have to get used to it," Gilbert hissed. He felt truly and righteously angry on behalf of his… Uh, friend.

Matthew blinked. He looked at Gilbert like he had never seen him before.

And then he blushed another shade darker, this time in pleasure rather than humiliation. It was rather becoming, although Gilbert refused to acknowledge the fluttering in his stomach. He knew that his own cheeks were flushed too.

"Thanks…" Matthew whispered.

"… Anytime."

That evening, Gilbert came back to the high school with a bucket of pig's blood and blue cheese. He broke into the bully's locker and made sure to coat everything he owned in the sloppy mixture. By tomorrow, it would smell to high heaven.

Gilbert grinned at a job well done and left the bucket in the locker.

"So where are you going?" Gilbert stepped up beside Matthew and nudged his ribs.

"To the library, Gilbert," Matthew sighed. "To study."

Gilbert flinched at the 'dirty' word. Matthew smirked, amused.

"That's stupid. You should hang out with me, instead."

"And do what?"

"I don't know. Something awesome, probably."

Matthew raised an eyebrow.

"That's very… Specific of you."

"That's me; Mister Spe…" Gilbert stumbled over the complicated syllables. "Mister Specififi… Specificici… Damn it. I'm specific as fuck, anyway."

Matthew chuckled into his hand, trying to smother the sound. Gilbert reached out without thinking and pulled his hand away from his mouth. He wanted to hear him laugh.

Matthew trailed off and he stared at Gilbert from much too close.

"Gilbert, what…?"

"Don't," he whispered. "Don't hide."

Matthew turned bright red and Gilbert followed suit. He walked Matthew the rest of the way to the library and it was awkward and nerve-wracking but…

Gilbert did not let go of his hand.

That had been yesterday. It was Friday now and the last day of classes before exams and graduation

"Gilbert, it's Friday."

They were eating lunch together in the courtyard, curled up against an old tree and watching the clouds roll by.

"Gee, I hadn't noticed."

"I mean, it's the end of the week."

"Friday normally is."

Matthew snorted.

"I mean, you promised to give me back my notebook at the end of the week."

Gilbert was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. He wanted to ask, he knew that he should, but he was worried that he would not like the answer.

He asked anyway.

"… Did you only hang out with me this week because you wanted your notebook back?"

Matthew tugged on the hood of his sweater and tried to look anywhere but at Gilbert.

"… No…"

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Do you promise?"

Matthew chuckled nervously.

"I promise."

Gilbert stared at the other student, weighing his next question. He really did like him. Matthew was strangely attractive and terribly fascinating, despite his best attempts to fade into the woodwork.

He really liked him.

He really, really liked him.

"Then I have another question for you."

"Can I have my notebook first, please?"

Gilbert shrugged and reached into his backpack for the notebook. At the beginning of the week it had been his only tie to the other student but he no longer needed it, did he?

He pulled it out and went to hand it to Matthew but it fell between their outstretched hands in seeming slow motion…

And snapped open to a page with his name scrawled in the margins.

"Oh!"

Gilbert frowned and leaned over the notebook. He had never bothered to flip through it. Why would he? Notes were notes were notes, right?

Wrong.

His name covered the page, written in cursive and bubble letters and dotted with little hearts. 'Gilbert Beilschmidt, Gilbert Beilschmidt, GILBERT BEILSCHMIDT'. He turned the page and his name was there too.

He glanced up at Matthew.

"Uhm…" Matthew was frozen in place and pale. He looked sick. "Is there something you wanted to tell me?"

Gilbert was more amused than anything else, and relieved that his feelings might be returned, but Matthew was mortified. He scrambled for the notebook and held it tight against his chest.

"I d-d-didn't want you to see that. Ever."

"Too late now," he laughed.

"You must hate me. I hate me…"

"I don't hate you," Gilbert tried to reassure him. He reached out to comfort him, anything, but Matthew suddenly stood up and grabbed his satchel.

"I have to, uh, go. Away. Right now." He pulled his hood even further down and hid his face, even though he knew that Gilbert hated it when he did that. "I'll, ah, s-s-see you around. Or not. You know."

Matthew took off at a sprint and disappeared before Gilbert could stop him. His hand hovered in the air, searching for someone who was no longer there.

What the hell?

He clenched his hand into a fist and growled.

"Dumbass. I wanted to ask you to graduation," he said to no one in particular.

"So, did you ask him?" Francis asked him a couple of days later. They were standing in last aisle of the local rental place.

"Who?" Gilbert pouted, knowing that Francis was asking about Matthew.

"The boy. Matthew?"

Gilbert bit his lip and pawed through the videos.

"I, uh, didn't exactly get the chance. He freaked."

"… How so?"

Gilbert snorted.

"He booked it."

"Ah." Francis handed a video to Antonio, who shook his head and put it back when he was no longer looking. He picked up another one. "He just needs time."

"He needs to fucking calm down, that's what he needs…"

Francis smacked him with the video in his hands.

"He's embarrassed. It happens. Give it time. He likes you; everyone has been talking about it."

Gilbert stopped.

"Who the hell is 'everyone'?!"

"Everyone is everyone, of course. People talk, you know. And you two have been joined at the hip all week. And maybe joined elsewhere…?"

"You're an idiot, and a pervert, and a gossip monger," Gilbert huffed, but he felt a little better.

"Guilty as charged," Francis handed the movie to Antonio. "But I'm also right. Just give him time."

Gilbert stared at the back of Matthew's head instead of focusing on the test in front of him. The students had been crowded into the gymnasium to write an essay on the effects of globalization. It was the first time Gilbert had seen Matthew all week.

He had been avoiding him; ducking down seldom used corridors and steering clear of the library. It sort of pissed him off but he was trying to give him space. Francis had said that he needed time.

Unfortunately, Gilbert was not known for his patience.

"Hey. Hey, you," he whispered, jabbing Matthew in the back with the tip of his pencil.

"What?" Matthew hissed.

"You're avoiding me."

"Yes, I am."

"Why?"

Matthew actually turned around in his seat to stare at Gilbert.

"What do you mean 'why'?!"

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"Because I was an idiot to think that you might like me."

"I do like you."

"But I'm not normal," and he sounded genuinely upset. Gilbert wondered what his idea of 'normal' was. "I'm weird."

"Fuck normal. Weird is great. Weird is awesome!"

"You're just saying that…"

"I mean it."

A teacher walked past them and tapped his desk.

"Eyes down, mouths shut," she shushed. Gilbert made a face as soon as her back was turned.

Matthew went back to his test.

"… I wanted to ask you to graduation," Gilbert admitted after a moment of silence. Matthew tensed up but refused to turn around.

"Oh."

There was another stretch of silence between them before Gilbert realized the mistake in his phrasing.

"I, uh, still want to ask you out."

"Oh!"

Matthew twisted in his seat again. He stared at Gilbert; a little flustered, a little confused, but obviously delighted.

"So…?"

"So?" Matthew repeated in a daze.

Gilbert sighed.

"So will you go out with me?"

Matthew opened his mouth to answer, to hopefully say 'yes', but the same teacher looped around to pinch Gilbert's ear and pulled him out of his chair.

"That's enough out of you, Mr. Beilschmidt."

"Ow, ow, ow!" Gilbert clawed at her hand as she dragged him out of the gymnasium by the ear. He reached out to Matthew longingly.

Matthew tried to look sympathetic for all of two seconds before bursting into laughter. He did not even bother trying to stifle it.

He was kicked out five minutes after Gilbert.

"Butts."

Francis stared at him.

"… Butts, my dear?"

"Butts," Gilbert said again solemnly.

"I take it you were kicked out of another exam?"

He nodded, just as solemnly.

"Uh huh."

"Did you get to talk to your boy, then?"

"He's not mine…"

"Yet!" Antonio chimed in. Gilbert glared at him.

"… But yes. And no."

"Yes and no?"

"Yes, I saw him, but no, not really. I asked him out, though."

"And?"

"And Ms. Phillips kicked me out before he could answer."

"Ah… So… 'Butts'."

"Butts," he agreed.

Gilbert did not see Matthew at all over the next week. The end of the year was always a tumultuous time at their high school, with students writing tests and clearing out their lockers and teachers sneaking sips from unmarked flasks.

He wanted to see him though. He kept leaving notes where Matthew might find them, writing his name over and over again on them.

'Matthew Williams, Matthew Williams, MATTHEW WILLIAMS'.

He wrote it everywhere, hoping to assuage the other student's worries. He honestly did not mind; he did not think it was creepy. He sort of thought it was flattering.

He liked that Matthew had been thinking about him long before he stole his notebook.

It was almost the end of the month, and almost graduation. Gilbert wondered if Matthew would show up.

"Damn it, he better come," Gilbert mumbled under his breath. "Or else."

"Gilbert, sweetheart, you're talking to yourself again."

He frowned.

"Shut up, Francis."

Gilbert leaned against the stonework and glared at the crowd of laughing students. Blue and silver balloons and streamers decorated every available surface. Banners hung from the ceiling.

But Matthew was nowhere to be found.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Antonio sidled up beside him, dragging a seething brunette behind him. The brunette snapped his teeth at Gilbert.

"I told you, he's not my boyfriend."

Antonio raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat, pausing for effect.

"… Yet." He grinned. Gilbert growled and shoved Antonio along. Francis sauntered past them with a date on each arm.

Gilbert settled back against the wall and watched the world go by.

And then he saw him.

Matthew.

Or, at least, he kind of looked like Matthew.

He walked in with his suit jacket over his shoulder and his mauve tie the slightest bit undone. His shoes were the same brilliant shade and caught the light with each step. It brought out his lavender eyes.

He was blonde, just as Gilbert thought he might be, and his hair hung in soft, loose curls that touched his collarbones. He was wearing new eyeglasses.

He looked sure of himself for once.

Matthew swept his eyes over the crowd and smiled coyly when he happened upon Gilbert. He stalked across the dancefloor to him.

And Gilbert realized that a hush had fallen over the graduating class, despite the low pulse of music. They were all watching him. Staring.

They were ogling the timid 'wallflower'. His timid wallflower, damn it.

Except that he was not timid. Not anymore.

Matthew walked up to him and stood so that their legs were almost touching. He was up close and personal.

Gilbert glared over his shoulder at the gawking crowd, daring them to say anything.

He put a hand on Matthew's hip, pulling him even closer.

"You came," he whispered, half in surprise and mostly in awe. He threaded his fingers through his belt loops.

"Of course."

"Did you get my notes?"

Matthew grinned; a slow, deliberate stretch of lips. Delicious.

"I did."

"Cool. So, uh, you wan'na dance?"

"Absolutely."

Neither of them moved.

"… With me?" Gilbert clarified after a moment. Matthew laughed, and the sound made his knees buckle. Luckily, he was holding onto Matthew. He held on a little tighter. Just in case.

"Yes."

"Okay. Alright then. Uhm…" Gilbert led him out onto the dancefloor. The music was slow, and soothing, and that suited him just fine. He wrapped his arms around his waist.

Matthew wound his fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck. He pressed their foreheads together.

"I'm, uh, glad you came," Gilbert shifted closer, tilting his chin up. He was sure that he was blushing. "I really am."

Matthew stared at him, looking unsure for the first time since he walked in. There was something in his eyes that spoke of that same nervous, shy student Gilbert had teased three weeks ago.

He had not changed, not really, but he was no longer hiding.

"Me too," he breathed.

"You look good," Gilbert said suddenly, awkwardly.

"Thanks. You're not so bad yourself."

He flushed another shade darker.

"Uh…" He scrambled for something else to add, but it was hard to think with Matthew standing so close, breathing the same air. Had he always been so close?

Matthew cut him off before he could start talking about the weather.

"Kiss me."

"… What?" Gilbert stopped swaying. He stared at Matthew with wide eyes.

"You should kiss me."

"… I should?" His voice cracked.

"Yes. Right now."

Gilbert looked around the dancefloor. The entire high school was scattered around them in a broad, uneven circle; students and teachers, friends and bullies. Gawking. They were not even pretending to mind their own business.

"Here?" He hissed, caught somewhere between scandalized and hopelessly turned on.

"Here." Matthew nodded.

"… 'Kay."

He lunged forward and tugged on his belt loops so that the two of them crashed together. He bounced up on his tiptoes in the same motion and pressed their lips together. It was a bit crooked, with too much teeth, and absolutely, undeniably perfect.

Gilbert sighed against his lips. Matthew bit back a moan.

And someone, somewhere, whistled; cheering and catcalling and clapping. It was probably Antonio.

Gilbert just raised his middle finger in the general direction of the crowd and pulled Matthew even closer.

Author's Notes:

Teenagers are still awkward, but the dialogue was fun to write.

I had no idea that the term 'keener' was considered Canadian slang. It refers to someone eager to share knowledge and excel, especially in schoolwork. Also, 'specificity' can be terribly hard to pronounce. Say it ten times fast, I dare you.

This might sound like an odd request, but I was wondering if you (yes, you) could drop me a line and tell me which chapter so far has been your favourite. A survey of sorts. Or, if it is too difficult to pick just one, what are your top three choices? I'm trying to figure out what people like and what they don't like, even though I'll keep writing whatever I want because I'm an a$$hole like that. But it'll give me greater insight in any case.

Only if you have a moment, of course.

Thank you again for all of the love. You guys have been, as always, awesome.