Best And Worst of Me - 1. Chapter 1

Green eyes bright as he smiles, wide and happy. He’s laughing at something a friend just told him. His tongue piercing is visible for only a brief glimpse, but it’s there. His jaw line is smooth and absent of any hair. He has dark black hair, layered and thick to his ears all around, except for two long strands in the front that drift down to brush his shoulders.

He laughs again, giving a playful slap to the other boy’s arm, followed by a quick chicken-peck kiss on the cheek.

“Can you believe that?” Zach scoffs, watching the two interact from the distance and jolting Quinn from his stare. “What?”

“Them kissing at school.” Zach pointed over to the couple, still bantering about something unheard in their distance. Quinn shrugged and stuffed his hands down into his jeans pockets, looking away. So Zach considered it wrong, but so what? They seemed fucking happy.

“I can’t watch any more of this.” Zach complained and straightened up to his full six feet, ready to leave. Quinn pushed off the wall they had been leaning on and matched Zach in height. Zach was one of the biggest guys in school and on the football team, as far as muscle build went.

Quinn looked slimmer in comparison, but had a muscular build himself with shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes. Sandy stubble covered his jaw, and his hair hung into his eyes, giving off a rougher look. Zach’s hair was a reddish brown, leaning more towards the latter in color.

“Is it so bad?” Quinn meekly spoke up, eyes on their feet as they walked the hall. Zach snorted in contempt. “Do you know how guys fuck each other? It’s disgusting. It goes up the ass, man.” Zach made a crude gesture with his hands.

Quinn fell silent with eyes downcast.

“Maria!” Zach called down the all, making Quinn jolt at the volume. A girl a long ways down the hall from them, almost indistinguishable, turned around at her name. Zach had some kind of sensory system when it came to knowing if it was his girlfriend way, way in the distance or some random other girl. He never failed at being right.

Quinn mustered up the muscles to smile as Maria approached, half Hispanic in her olive skin, black hair, and deep brown eyes. She was gorgeous nonetheless, and greeted Zach with a passionate kiss of tongues. Quinn averted his eyes, choosing the locker numbers in favor of their scene.

2497, 2498, 2499…

“Quinn,” Maria demanded his attention. He turned towards her again, offering a wider smile this time and, “Hey.”

“Do you know a girl named Lizzie?” She asked.

As it seemed every parent thought they were being original to name their daughter Elizabeth sixteen or seventeen years ago, their school was flooded with shortened versions like Liz and Lizzie.

“Can’t say I do.” Quinn opted for that instead of, “Which one?”

“Cheerleader?” Maria pressed. Okay, that narrowed it down to about… four. Quinn shrugged helplessly. “The one they toss up during their routines?” Maria was still trying to wring some memory out of his head.

“You mean the one they dropped last week?” Quinn started to remember. Maria didn’t seem to be happy that that was what he remembered about Lizzie. “Yes.” Maria huffed out, hand on her hip. “You should ask her out.”

Quinn stumbled for some excuse. Saying “I’m gay,” probably would do the trick, and in the process lose the majority if not all of his friends.

“I don’t even know her.” He tried instead. “That’s the point of dating. Besides, you need to have a date for the homecoming dance and some special person to cheer you on at the homecoming game next week.” She wrapped her arm possessively around Zach’s waist. Zach seconded her offer with an expectant look at Quinn.

Quinn was at another loss to get out of it. “I really don’t know her… I barely remember her.”

“Meet up with me after school and I’ll introduce you.” Maria smiled. As far as she thought, she was doing him a huge favor. What football player didn't want a cheerleader for a girlfriend? Even if their cheerleaders did horrible in the competitions, and football was only on its comeback from being horrible itself.

All the players thought themselves god-worthy after an almost successful the season prior, with a new coach. Quinn played for a sense to fit in and of his father’s pressure.

“Meet after school.” Maria repeated and started to lead Zach off and away.

Quinn stood, mouth slacked open slightly and filled with a sense of hopelessness. Would this be how the rest of his life was? People trying to hook him up with women, saying that he needed someone to be cheering him on, like whether it was a girl or a guy made all the difference?

The bell rang, but it didn’t chase away the tightness in his chest. Quinn didn’t bother to rush and retrieve his backpack from his locker, or hurry to class. The start of a new school year was just a continuation of the last for him.

Trying to avoid answering questions why he didn’t have a girlfriend, and having the occasional few-week long flings with a girl to cover his ass. All of the girls were too proud to admit that they never had sex, and fed their friends the line “he was great”.

What did it matter if he had a date to homecoming? The same kid had been elected for their class since freshman year—Jimmy something. Everyone knew and liked him, so it’s not like Quinn was getting elected for royalty any time soon.

The morning went by as it usually did; Quinn feeling physically like dead weight. Too tired to move, and it took all of his effort to do so. Not even from lack of sleep, just… everything else.

Lunchtime came, and it was time to figure out who had the same lunch slot. There were three different lunches—one for the freshmen, and two separate ones for the upperclassmen based on when their English or history class was.

Quinn looked around for a familiar face of his circle of friends, just so he wouldn’t have to eat alone. It was a lost cause, for hardly anyone he was vaguely close to shared this lunch period. A few other football players, and some friend’s girlfriends and that was all.

The only familiar face he didknow was absent of a name, and not because they knew each other. The boy from before school, searching the crowds for his own friends. Quinn watched from his distance as the boy grouped up with others, but not the boy he had kissed.

Were they serious? How long had they been going out? Why hadn’t Quinn seen them before?

Catching himself, Quinn sighed and turned away and pushed through the crowd, aiming for the doors. He made it to his car and was out for lunch in a matter of minutes, eating by himself despite the anxious wreck it left him… self conscious of his every move because he didn’t have someone to act with, feeling like people were watching him because he was alone.

Some relief flooded him at the return to school, but his next few classes brought out the same problem. He managed to interact with some friends of friends out of desperation, even if he sat out for most of their conversations.

Seventh period came, and Quinn was grateful for it. Zach and two other of his friends shared weight lifting with him, as did a number of other school athletes he was familiar with. They grouped up and talked quietly through the class introduction, but Quinn’s eyes drifted.

That boy was in here too. The one who kissed another boy.

Quinn immediately recognized the same anxiousness in the boy that he felt when no one he knew was in a class with him. The boy kept mostly to himself, trying too hard to focus on the teacher instead of showing his nervousness.

Towards the end, they were all assigned lockers in the locker room. Quinn picked his carefully, so that the other boy was naturally in his line of sight. The lockers were in coves the shapes of U’s, and while the boy took a locker towards the end of the row, Quinn made sure he was at a locker behind and on the other side of the isle.

Looking up casually from his own end locker, the boy was within his sights.

“Isn’t that the kid from this morning?” Zach elbowed Quinn in the side. Quinn looked up, trying to ignore the foreboding feeling creeping in. Zach would target the other boy. “I don’t know.”

Zach grunted and practiced his locker combination aimlessly. “Lizzie is pretty cute, you know. Petite.”

Quinn’s stomach flip-flopped. He always felt on thin ice trying to talk girls with Zach. Zach would make a comment, and wait for Quinn to put in his own opinion. Yes? No? Kind of? Actually…

“Like I said, I don’t remember her that much.” Quinn repeated. “Well our practice starts at three, so you’ll have time to meet her after school.” Zach announced, closing his locker, satisfied with his code memorization.

The final bell rang, and the locker room emptied out. Quinn gave a last fleeting look at the other boy, still not having caught his name. No way he could ask for it without bringing attention to himself, and he hadn’t listened during attendance.

The end of the school day at two-thirty also marked that Quinn was unofficially set to meet this Lizzie. He followed Zach to the commons, where they met up with Maria and another shorter, fairer girl. She beamed at Quinn, so small and cute she reminded him of a twelve-year-old girl.

He tried not to let that thought get in the way of striking up a casual conversation with her. She was actually a senior too, despite her height. She lived in the north Valley, so she had money. She had a horse.

Quinn was looking over her head to the school clocks, and at two forty-five, excused himself to get ready for practice.

It was hot out, normal for early August. The grass was already half dead or worn to dirt from their summer sessions. One freshman fainted from exhaustion during the practice, and two others were puking by the end. The coach was young and ran them harder than the previous coach from two years ago.

Practice ended at six, and the exhausted team clunked into the locker room, all breathing heavy and sweaty. Quinn changed and made use of the shower stalls to rinse himself with the plan to take a more thorough shower when he got home.

Hair damp, Quinn redressed into his school clothes and zipped up his duffle bag with his practice clothes for the wash. He said his good-byes and was back to his car for the drive home.

On his iPod, he played his guilty pleasure music. He guarded the device carefully, for if anyone actually recognized some of his music, he was sure to be ridiculed.

The two-man dance music band Blood on the Dance Floor let him relax, and being able to sing along with the lyrics made him feel all that much better. One of the men was gay, and a few of their songs touched on striving forward despite the homophobic roadblocks.

Quinn enjoyed being able to scream with the lyrics at the top of his lungs in his car with one of the Find Your Way. Maybe in a few years, if at all, he would be able to say that to someone’s face… but until then, his ten-minute drive home was all his release.

I say fuck that,

I’ll be a gay man

I’ll take my stand

I’ll rip bitches throats out with my bare hands

No mercy for the ones who refuse our demands!

(Lyrics belong to Blood on the Dance Floor, Find Your Way)

***

Lizzie was ready to hang out before school the next day. Quinn was just glad they didn’t have the same lunch—that was one person he did not want to spend all his time with. Even over being alone, which he hated.

The whole while she talked about her horse, or her new expensive car from her parents, or how she was the best cheerleader, Quinn could see the boy off in the distance. He was with another boy, who Quinn had come to decide was his boyfriend.

Didn’t people hate on them for it? How could they still be so happy and open about liking other guys? The little touches and kisses were everything—they were more modest than most straight couples that made out heatedly in the halls.

“Quinn?” Lizzie chimed into his thoughts, voice agitated like she had said it more than once. Quinn snapped his eyes down to look at her. She rolled her eyes, as if they were already dating and she had a right to complain if she listened or not.

He hadn’t asked her out, but she was acting the part. Wait, werethey dating now? Had Quinn idiotically fallen into the relationship by accepting to meet her? And if he asked her that, no way it would go over well.

He managed to excuse himself and chase down Zach. “Are Lizzie and I dating?” He interrupted Zach’s make out session with Maria. “No.” Zach answered bitterly.

“You aren't?” Maria asked. “But I set you two up…”

“Try this. Does Lizzie think I’m her boyfriend?” Quinn had tried dating girls. It never went over well. Especially one as egotistical as Lizzie, thinking she was the hottest one around so what would happen when Quinn didn’t want her?

“Probably.” Maria answered. Quinn swore to himself. “I never asked her out…” He groaned. Maria shrugged like it was nothing and went back to giving Zach attention.

Quinn stormed off down the hall. Something good had to come of it, right? He could finally tell his dad he had a girlfriend, even if he didn't like her. His eyes sought out the boy in the commons, but was no where to be found.

Sighing, Quinn went through his routine of classes. For lunch he was by himself again, thankfully. He did see the boy then. Could Quinn invite himself to lunch? No. It would bring up too many questions, and he still didn't know the boy’s name.

He pulled out his iPod, daring to listen to it during school. He had more music on his iPod than Blood on the Dance Floor, but that was more for his sexuality. He vented with Bring Me the Horizon, It Never Ends.

I've said it once, I've said it twice, I’ve said it a thousand fucking times.

That I'm okay, that I'm fine, that it’s all just in my mind.

Addiction's got the best of me, and I can’t seem to sleep.

It’s not 'cause you’re not with me! It 'cause you never leave!

You say this is suicide? I say this is a war.

And I'm losing the battle, man down!, man down! Oh!

This is what you call love? This is! A war, I can't, win!

(Lyrics belong to Bring Me the Horizon, It Never Ends)

He zoned out to the music, skipping between songs. Maybe screamo wasn’t something that all football players listened to, but… it got a lot closer to what he was feeling than other types.

Lunch ended, and he counted down until seventh period came around again.

“Uh, Cameron Willows?” The coach called out into the weight room, still trying to learn people’s names. Quinn listened intently, still waiting to figure out the boy’s name.

“Here.” The boy finally had a name. Cameron.

“Why don’t you all pick your partners… you always want someone to spot you.” The coach let the group mingle.

Quinn watched again as Cameron stood back, anxiousness and fear in his eyes again. He didn’t know anyone in the group, and if it came down to it, there would be one person claiming they didn’t have a partner and would be forced with Cameron.

Being the last choice? That couldn’t feel very nice.

Quinn waited for the rest of his friends to pair up before approaching Cameron. “Partners?” He asked, heart racing with nervousness. What if Zach or someone else realized he had willingly offered?

Cameron looked up in shock, falling under Quinn by about four inches—but then he broke out in an ear-to-ear smile, and relaxed. “Yeah.”

Quinn let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, and while his body burned with every fiber to smile back, he kept his face unemotional. Zach was watching him.

“Can you even lift weights?” He felt horrible for the edge on his voice, for the snide remark and the cruel glint he had placed in his eye. Cameron’s smile fell almost instantly, eyes wide in hurt before he covered it up. “We’ll see.” He answered dryly.

Quinn’s chest constricted, leading the other boy over to the bench press. That was easy and simple, and everyone else was doing something else more challenging for them.

Cameron kept his eyes down and didn’t speak often. Where was the one with bubbling laughter? Quinn knew he had probably royally fucked himself over. He did his set of reps; muscles burning with strain, before letting Cameron take a turn.

He slid off the end caps on the bar and gently dropped the weighted discs to the ground. He put the end caps on again and slid onto the black padded bench, clutching onto the bar from underneath.

Quinn stood in place just behind, hands under the bar and ready to catch it if worst came to worst. Cameron’s eyes were up, but obviously focused on the bar and probably anywhere but Quinn. The only thing he noticed was how close his groin was to Cameron’s face.

Spread his legs wider, sink down… and that would be close enough to touch.

Quinn gritted his jaw, sending a look at Zach. He was busy laughing at something with another guy.

“What grade are you in?” Quinn kept his voice low. He needed to distract his mind.

“You’re really going to ask me that now?” Cameron grunted out on a puff of strained breath. “Right. Sorry.” Quinn admitted.

“…I’m a sophomore.”

So he had had a different lunch the year before, that’s why Quinn had never seen him. Quinn left the conversation at that, knowing too much more would bring himself to Zach’s attention… but still, earlier left guilt gnawing at him.

Cameron had been so openly happy that the teacher didn’t have to make someone pair with him, and Quinn had to go and be a dick about it. It’s not like Quinn would be able to ask him out, either. It was a lost hope, so better just to crush it all.