Best And Worst of Me - 11. Chapter 11

Quinn really did feel like an idiot. He’d been late to school again after stopping by the store and wandering around trying to find something fitting. Chocolates had been an impulse-buy the day before, and now he didn’t know what to get. When he was already fifteen minutes late, Quinn gave up and hauled himself to class.

Well, maybe he didn’t have to give something every time. But the lyrics still mattered. If anything, Quinn wanted to get a worry stone for Cameron too—but he didn’t know where to get one. Where he lived was too urban to have any rock shops around, and the only one he knew of for sure was a long ways away. Maybe that could be something for the weekend?

The rest of the morning, Quinn listened through songs on his iPod, trying to figure out what song to be next. Finally he happened upon a small part of lyrics that would work.

My time has come to overthrow you my conquerors, my demons

Rise above this, rise above this

Wake me up before it's too late

(

Lyrics belong to Everyone Dies in Utah, Do What Diddy Did)

He copied down the verse onto a piece of paper and stuffed it in his pocket for later. Quinn was looking forward to giving it to Cameron at lunch, but Zach wouldn’t make it that easy. Zach tracked Quinn down in the halls right before lunch.

“Man, what has been up with you lately?” Zach hissed and grabbed Quinn by the shoulder to stop him from leaving.

Quinn didn’t answer, half because he didn’t want to and half because he couldn’t think of what to say. Zach made him feel uncomfortable causing Quinn to fold in on himself.

“Hey Neanderthals, you’re in my fucking way!” a girl’s voice announced.

Quinn jolted in shock and looked down to see a somewhat familiar face—one of Cameron’s friends—glaring up at him and Zach. She had her hands on her hips while waiting for them to move.

“Oh shut up and go around,” Zach snapped at her.

There was space on the sides to go around, but she was determined to go through them.

“Like hell if I’ll inconvenience myself just so you can have your little lovers spat with your buddy here.” She smirked, knowing she had won with Zach’s homophobia.

He paled at the thought of having a ‘lovers spat’ with Quinn and backed off, giving Quinn a wide berth. Quinn took the opening and darted down a hall, opposite of where Zach’s next class was. Quinn took a few minutes to gather himself and bought some food from the lunch line. He sought out Cameron in the commons and found him at the usual table, along with the girl from earlier.

She gave a him a look, a mix between telling him to fuck off and accepting him. Quinn nodded stiffly, hoping that would be enough of a thank you for earlier.

Quinn set his tray of food down and got the lyrics out of his pocket. He handed over the paper to Cameron, who took it with a suspicious glare. Cameron unfolded the paper and read over it once before putting it in his pocket.

A few others joined them at the table, starting up a wary conversation with Quinn there. Some of them still weren’t sure about him being there.

“How often are you going to do that?” Cameron finally asked, breaking some of the silence between him and Quinn.

Quinn just shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it in the open where people could hear. Cameron frowned and went back to working on his lunch.

“That guy is a dick,” the girl from earlier commented. “Zach.”

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed, looking her over. She was a small girl with blonde hair, but the underside was dyed a dark purple. She had a small, almost unnoticeable, piercing in the side of her nose that glinted in the light. She noticed his look and stared him down until Quinn averted his eyes.

“You got a problem?” she asked defensively.

“No,” Quinn answered stiffly. He didn’t, but she was a bit abrasive. “What’s your name?”

She narrowed her eyes, but answered anyways. “Meghan.”

“Well, nice to meet you, Meghan.” Quinn set his tray in his lap to hold out a hand. She eyed the gesture suspiciously, obviously waiting for some prank in it, but she shook his hand anyways. She gave him a firm squeeze and met his eyes.

“Quinn,” she acknowledged.

They fell silent in a respectful agreement and went back to eating. Quinn picked up on some of the conversation around him—Cameron had started talking with some others about an upcoming concert, while there was another little cluster talking about an obscure video game.

“Do you listen to them?” Someone asked, and it took Quinn a minute to realize he was being spoken to.

“Who?” he hadn’t really been listening.

“Bring Me the Horizon,” the boy asked confidently, expecting a no. He had a good sized Mohawk, at least five inches tall, dyed it a teal blue and black.

“Yeah,” Quinn leaned forward slightly. “Which album did you like better?”

The boy seemed flabbergasted that Quinn even knew the band and was trying to build a conversation around it. “Uh, Count Your Blessings,” he answered stupidly.

“Yeah, that one was okay. A lot more screamo than the newer stuff, but I think they’ve kind of matured beyond being so screamo based. I like their more recent albums more—not that I don’t like Count Your Blessings.”

The boy was still giving him that look of astonishment. “You listen to screamo?” he asked, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“I’ll listen to anything except country and rap,” Quinn admitted. Country only made him feel worse when he was in a bad mood; it was nothing he could relate to. Rap, well… no way was he going to relate to sexualizing women and drugs, either.

The boy frowned and started to ignore Quinn out of stubbornness, not wanting to let Quinn into their group of friends.

Cameron drifted away from Quinn a little as well, not quite socializing with him. Quinn caught himself watching the other teen most of the time, anyways. If Cameron noticed, he didn’t say anything about it. His arms were still well defined, despite dropping the weightlifting class. That was all Quinn could make out with Cameron dressed in normal clothes, and outside of the locker room.

Quinn glared down at his tray of food. He really was a fucking idiot. Maybe at the time, it had felt good while he wasn’t thinking about it. But now he didn’t get to see Cameron every day in class, and was being ignored the majority of the time. Damn it. He stuck a hand inside his pocket and began to rub the worry stone, eating with his other hand.

He looked up briefly to see Meghan watching him. She smirked, and then motioned down towards his pocket. “What are you doing?” She asked, on the verge of some sexual joke.

Quinn quickly pulled out the worry stone and showed it to her.

“Right,” she snorted and stabbed a kiwi with her spork.

Quinn rolled his eyes and kept the stone in his hand, trying to soothe himself with the comforting feeling of the smooth stone. Still, he couldn’t help himself and looked over at Cameron. Again. He and his friends were in some mock fight, punching each other in the shoulder, but still smiling.

Zach would hit back twice as hard if someone ever tried to play punch him. Quinn tried to distract himself, only to notice Meghan watching him yet again. She had one blonde eyebrow raised, only there was no question about what she had noticed and was thinking.

Quinn scowled and clenched a fist around the worry stone. Well, fuck. He was being stupid. He started to eat his lunch again, trying to play normal, but the lunch bell rang. Had it really been that long? The commons started to clear, and Quinn started shoving food into his mouth. He would be screwed if he didn’t eat enough before practice.

“Give me your number,” Meghan demanded, having already thrown away her trash and now standing next to Quinn.

Quinn choked on a bite of food for a minute before swallowing. “Huh?” She could at least say please, but he wouldn’t tell her that. He had a feeling he would get hurt in someway if he did.

“Your cell phone number, idiot.” She huffed impatiently.

“Why?” Quinn wasn’t going to make it easy for her if she was going to be rude about it.

“Fine then,” Meghan smiled deviously. “You’ll just suffer later. See you after school.”

Suffer? What? Quinn stared after her, dumbfounded, as she wove through tables and towards her next class.

“Good luck with her,” the kid with the Mohawk snorted as he grabbed his backpack.

“Why? What?” Quinn asked in a panic, but everyone else was just giving him looks. And he knew he was so screwed, somehow.

It was on his mind during practice more than anything else, though he managed to play better than he had been. Zach was still gunning for him, but that was the last thing on Quinn’s mind.

Practice finished and Quinn changed in the lockers with everyone else. He picked up some corn again on the way home, and gave them to his mother in the kitchen.

“You want to help me with dinner?” she asked.

Quinn stared at her for a moment, almost waiting for it to be a joke. As far as things went, both Quinn and his father didn’t help around the house. But… to hell with it.

“Let me shower really quick,” Quinn took off for the stairs. He took a quick run through shower and changed into a pair of pajama pants and a plain t-shirt. He was back downstairs within ten minutes, and was instructed in shuck the corn. Easy.

Except, well, all those silk strings. He hated eating them and getting them in his teeth, so he spent five minutes or more on each cob, picking the strands from between the kernels.

“Aren’t you done yet?” Claire questioned playfully.

Quinn frowned at her. “They aren’t clean yet.”

“Honey, you aren’t going to get them perfectly clean. Give them to me so I can put them in the microwave.” She handed over a plate for Quinn to put the corncobs on. Those went in the microwave, and Quinn mingled around in the kitchen behind his mother.

“Claire, how long until dinner?” Roy asked and popped his head into the kitchen. He stared at Quinn for a moment, before flinging a silent accusing look at Claire. She just shrugged and sashayed through the kitchen.

Roy grunted and left, and Quinn just stared at his mother. Well, he had definitely missed something there.

Dinner was shortly after, though there was another strained silence at the table. Roy and Claire weren’t talking, but Quinn’s sister seemed oblivious as she chattered on. Quinn was just glad when it was over. He helped his mother clean up before retreating to his room.

He laid out on his bed, exhausted, even though it wasn’t that late. Quinn was ready to sleep. He closed his eyes and started to drift, but only just as the doorbell rang. For a moment, his sleep muddled mind thought of Lizzie; but no, they weren’t together anymore.

“Quinn!” His mother’s voice rang up the stairs anyways.

Who else would it be? If it was Zach, Quinn was screwed. Or maybe Cameron…

Quinn hurried out of his room and almost fell down the stairs. He stopped at the bottom, all too horrified at the sight of Meghan there. Quinn gawped in mute shock—hell, she had purple in her hair. Not that he had a problem with it, but his dad…

“Er, Meghan,” Quinn tried to greet her casually. Really, he wanted to know how the hell she knew where he lived.

She smiled triumphantly, her goal having been to see the mortified look on her face.

“Are you a friend from school?” Claire asked carefully, speaking maybe a little slower than usual.

Meghan frowned and glanced up at Claire. Quinn prepared himself for a train of cusswords to come out of Meghan, but…

“I am. My name is Meghan, it’s nice to meet you.” Meghan held her hand out.

Quinn almost dropped from relief.

“And how do you to know each other?” Claire questioned, obviously interested.

“Through Cameron,” Meghan said.

And, Quinn was done. Claire turned and smiled—big, huge, and expectant.

“Cameron, now?” Claire overplayed the excitement in her voice.

“Mom!” Quinn shrieked desperately. He in turn got a look from both women.

Roy came grumbling down the hallway, eyes locking immediately on Meghan. “Who’s this?”

Quinn stumbled in answering while Claire and Meghan watched expectantly. “Meghan,” Quinn pointed at her, as if it wasn’t obvious. “She’s a friend from school.”

“Friend?” Roy echoed suspiciously.

“Friend,” Meghan spoke up, hands on her hip and daring Roy to ask if she was a girlfriend.

Roy nodded unhappily and shuffled into the kitchen. Claire followed suit, chastising Roy about late night snacking.

“Can I help you?” Quinn murmured awkwardly, as Meghan didn’t look like she was moving anytime soon.

“Well, I told you we would talk later,” Meghan cocked a hip out and narrowed her eyes. “And now is later. Where’s your room?”

Quinn blankly showed her up the stairs, very aware of his sister watching from her bedroom. Even though it was against home rules, Quinn closed the door. Meghan was already poking around his room, admiring the dullness of the room.

“No hidden porn?” Meghan asked, half joking and half serious.

“No,” Quinn scoffed. That’s what the internet was for.

Meghan glared over her shoulder, lips pressed thin. “You like Cameron, don’t you?”

Quinn frowned and tried to stall in his answering. He didn’t want to be having this conversation, much less with a girl he barely knew. Still, after lunch that day he had had a feeling this was coming. Quinn couldn’t bring himself to admit it, so he just shrugged.

Meghan sighed dramatically and hopped onto his bed. “Closeted football player. Typical. You’re the one that got him in the locker room, then?”

Quinn swallowed hard and just stared at her. She knew about that?

“Cameron talks to me,” she added. “In fact he was freaking out after that. He spent the night at my house.”

“I couldn’t fucking help it,” Quinn snapped. He had to explain himself. “I mean, shit, I just wanted to talk to him, but I—I wanted to touch him, too, and I just…” Quinn swore again and grabbed at his hair. He started to pull and grind his teeth, refusing to even look at Meghan.

“Jesus fuck, Quinn!” Meghan hissed and was in front of him, trying to uncurl his fingers. “Hell,” she huffed when his hands were out of his hair. Meghan patted down his hair, soothing some of the sting out with a worried look on her face.

“I didn’t mean to,” Quinn repeated brokenly. He hadn’t even told his mom what he had done; Allen was the only one that knew. Now… Meghan knew, and she could tell people. Maybe not tell them what he did to Cameron, but out him. He was gay.

“Calm down,” Meghan commanded gently and walked him over to the bed. “You’re just a dick, but Cameron wouldn’t be talking to you if he hated you.”

“But I still fucking did that to him! I hate myself for it, and I’m trying hard to even just be friends with him—“ Quinn coughed, trying to draw in breaths.

“And he’s confused as hell about it,” Meghan snapped. “He was already on the fence about you. You were a dick to him, but you tried to help a couple of times too—before you did that. He knows you like him, but he’s scared of you too. You already forced him to do one thing, lost control, hurt him. What about a second time?”

“I wouldn’t do it again!” Quinn yelled, only remembering to keep his voice down afterwards.

“Yeah, maybe, but he doesn’t know that.” Meghan tilted her head thoughtfully. “Honestly, I think the lyrics are good. He likes music. You seem to, too. The fact you’re putting that much thought into it is a good thing already. Just give him time.”

“Shit,” Quinn swore and ran a nervous hand through his hair.

Meghan eyed him carefully. “Who all knows you’re gay?”

“My mom, my therapist, and Cameron,” Quinn admitted slowly, and then looked over at her. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I’m not.” Meghan held her hands up, palms out. “I just wanted to fuck with you. Just know I will rip your balls off if you hurt him.”

“Did he get that whole ‘rip my balls off’ thing from you?” Quinn asked, his mood picking up slightly.

“Possibly.” Meghan chuckled and stood up from the bed. “Anyways, I need to be going.”

Quinn walked her out of the house, only to have his mother staring him down.

“Nice girl,” Claire commented. “A little out of your friends circle. Good to know that your mind is opening up a little.”

Quinn rolled his eyes and went back up into his bedroom.