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Pesto and Francesca's Epilogue

"Fuck, I think I'm still hungover from homecoming..." Pesto muttered to Marty as they entered Grovedale High's grand atrium, filled with the typical half-hearted hubbub of a Monday morning. The homecoming decorations were long taken down, instead replaced by the usual cluttered bulletin boards and Orwellian posters of Francesca glaring at the viewer imperiously, adorned with the words "you are being watched' blow in a frilly pink font.

"You sure? That was three nights ago. That doesn't seem possible," Marty pondered as he gently wedged a path for the Badger through the sea of students, half of which were standing still to soak in Pesto's crazy outfit of the day.

The Badger put a crooked finger up to her green-painted lips in contemplation. "I dunno, I had four beta blockers and I'm on my third Red Bull. Anything seems feasible right about now."

"Oh. Maybe the Red Bull and Beta blockers are what you're feeling then?" The Bull offered as he finally managed to clear a path to Pesto's locker that was decorated with an oppressive amount of fashion magazine cutouts, onlookers following at a safe distance with their phones out.

"Oh, yeah that probably makes more sense," the Badger agreed nonchalantly, before quickly flashing a smile and peace sign to one of the freshmen who awkwardly asked for a picture, and then telling the group of bros who started the 'are traps gay' joke circle that 'yes, you're all gay now'. All that remained was answering a few questions about her outfit, and the onlooking crowd dispersed for the day. It was a pretty good turnout.

The attention from the students was nothing new, and certainly not unwanted. Heck, if she didn't want the attention, she wouldn't be dressed to slay in her new couture orange latex dress and matching orange cone heels. The colors complemented her chandelier layered haircut, which she decided dye blonde instead of green, for a change. Pesto wasn't very loud, but her fashion choices always were; and that was just how she rolled. Her penchant for eye-popping outfits started out as attention seeking, plain and simple. But after a few weeks of putting on a show of her outfits at the start of the day, the other students started to get a kick out of what crazy outfit she'd wear each day. Soon enough she attracted a following, becoming something of a school celebrity and a rising fashion influencer on Instantgram. At this point she'd get flak for not coming to school like an alien drag queen from the planet Glamazon, so she might as well give the people what they want.

"You know being popular is kind of weird sometimes. Sometimes I wish I had an alternate persona as just your normal everyday biologically female highschool student, whose only concern is asking her crush out," Pesto mused to her boyfriend with a thick layer of snark, flitting her eyelids ironically.

Marty chuckled with a big silly, and awfully cute grin. "Hehe, You just described the plot of Manna Hontana perfectly!"

"Heh. And I'm on a fast track to rehab, just like Ciley Myrus," the Badger bantered as she threw her empty Red Bull can to the trash can by the entrance. Within seconds, creepy lunchlady Erma rushed over to the garbage can, fished out the Redbull can and started licking the lid with her eerily long tongue to get a taste of the precious backwash.

Ignoring the very creepy antics of the middle-aged Axolotl, Marty began fiddling with his fingers shyly, blushing softly. "Anyway, Sean, Jules and Boxer said there were going to start a garbage fire at the dumpster during homeroom period today. You want to check it out?"

Pesto hummed and the considered the intriguing offer, "That seems kinda bomb, in like a juvenile delinquent kind of way, which I'm totally vibing with, but this latex is smelly enough as is. I'll pass, thanks for the offer though."

"Oh okay, I guess I'll see you at lunch then?" Marty responded with a hopeful smile, as if the answer wasn't obviously 'yes'.

"You know it. Bye boo," Pest cooed to Marty. She then kissing him goodbye on the nose, making him blush hard as he made his way to class with a lovestruck grin. With a contented smirk, Pesto began digging for her textbooks through the disgusting mess of garbage and empty makeup containers that was inside her locker.

What a cutie that Marty was. He was really funny too, and surprisingly intelligent. Apparently everyone thought he was dumb as bricks (she was guilty of that too at first), but he really wasn't. It was just that it was hard for anyone to take you seriously when all your dialog comes out in Comic Sans font. Oh well, maybe the author would take pity on the poor Bull and cut that out at some point (probably not).

Pesto pushed aside half-used makeup container after container after crushed Red Bull can, digging for that history book, All the while she couldn't help but overhear the conversation of the group of other popular girls (Student Council made sure the good lockers only went to the popular students. It was pretty fucked up) to her right:

"So like, what are y'alls plans for afterschool?"

"I'm going to help out my local Church of Raptor Jesus Christ of the Latter-day Saint Bernards with their weekend bake sale! I'm going to make my grandmother's famous recipe for red-velvet cupcakes that's just oh so delicious," said one girl in an obnoxiously Mormon-sounding cadence.

"Sweet. I'm going to like, go the mall and buy things, and then like totally hold out on sex with my boyfriend, until he like, does whatever I say," said another in an obnoxiously valley-girl sounding way. "What about you DDW?"

" OPEN THE GATES TO GEHENNA TO AN OUTPOUR OF RAVENOUS MONSTROSITIES THAT SLAUGHTER ALL IN THEIR FEARSOME WAKE!...AND MAYBE DO SOME PIALTES LATER," said one more in a way that was obnoxiously... satanic?

"Wow, that sounds way more interesting that bake sales or holding out on sex!"

"Yeah, we should do that too. You're so smart DDW."

Wow, okay. Apparently there was a shift in power: now that everyone realized that the head cheerleader Katie Cockbane was a total cunt bag who technically wasn't even popular, the brainless followers had elected a new dictator of popularity: Dra'hyantheuit Destoryer of Worlds, the incorporeal foreign exchange student from Omicron Persei Nine. Party.

Pesto then somehow managed to close her locker without junk spilling out, and right as the lock clicked shut, the Badger's Bitch Senses started tingling... and it wasn't coming from the cheerleaders...

Turning over to the other side of the hallway, Pesto immediately spotted a tall, pink-clad Husky that no one dare walk within a five-foot radius of, thanks to her godlike power to grant or remove one's precious popularity points. It seemed that Pesto's suspicions were correct... it was the Student council president/Supreme Leader of Grovedale High: Francesca Buchanan. The Husky Strutting forward with poise, intent and an unreadable expression. Francesca then locked eyes with the Badger, and Pesto quickly deduced why she was walking in her direction.

Pesto moaned exasperatedly to herself. Sabotaging homecoming was fucking amazing, but of course Francesca was bound to find out she was the mastermind eventually. It was still worth it, but the next couple of minutes were obviously going to suck...

Pesto leaned against her locker and put on a disinterested glower as the Pink People Eater closed the remaining distance. Affecting her greatest diplomatic face, Francesca approached Pesto steadily and intently. "Good morning, Pesto," the Husky announced neutrally. Of course, her tone meant nothing; this bitch could be ready to send you to the guillotine without a smidge of emotion on her face.

Pesto rolled her eyes in anticipation of the annoyance to come. "Yeah, yeah, probably something in the French Bible about though shalst not secretly turn upith thine boring homecoming party for what...ith. Whatever, just replace me in student council with one of your goons. It was a thankless job anyway."

To Pesto's surprise, Francesca's demeanor softened, looking almost... humble? "Actually, I wanted to tell you that I was... impressed by what you pulled off," Francesca responded in a completely level tone.

"And while you're at it I have a nice pink dildo for your to shove up your... wait, what? 'Impressed'?" the Badger repeated the word as if it were the last thing on earth she was expecting to hear. Maybe 'impressed' meant something else in Francesca's bootleg version of French that she spoke? "I sabotaged your homecoming plans and you're Impressed? How does that work?" she asked, fiddling her voluminous hair with a baffled tilt of her head.

Francesca nodded gracefully and let out a smile that somehow was neither passive-aggressive nor fake. "Well... as an aspiring politician, I actually learned a lot from your covert operation. You not only managed a ruthlessly efficient homecoming queen campaign, but you also snuck a week's worth of decorations and planning under my nose in less than two days' time. You also did it so seamlessly and with so much _panache_that I looked the fool for losing my temper over a difference that nobody else noticed, or even cared about. And because I never noticed your puppeteering, I had no one else to assume was at fault but my right-hand Ellie, causing a rift between me and my most fervent supporter. It was a bona-fide cleft stick you caught me in."

"...Okay," Pesto responded dubiously, wonder what sort of fucked-up logic Francesca was operating under.

Francesca took in a healthy lungful of air as if preparing to say something difficult, "You, Pesto, are ruthless and cunning. And as the future president of the United States of Furmerica... I can respect that." Pesto's eyes widened as she witnessed the once in a lifetime event of Francesca sucking in her pride. "I'm proud to call you vice-president of GroveDale High's Student council," The Husky declared with firm resolve.

Well, rip out my asshole out and call me Dora the Explorer: I think Francesca is actually being nice to me.

"Oh, Alright. Party." Pesto said, letting down her guard of disinterest. It wasn't long before the Badger aboutfaced to confusion as the hallway suddenly darkened and out of nowhere stage lights illuminated the Husky.

"Everyone, I have something to say! I learned something today!" Francesca called out, waving enthusiastically to the masses with her best smile for public kids television.

"Yes, Francesca?" the mass of hallway students echoed with anticipation, eager to learn the moral of the week.

"I learned today that trans girls can be just as cutthroat, manipulative and Machiavellian as straight girls. Yay for diversity, yay! We can all be equally horrible people!"

"Yaaaaay!" The watching students in the hallway sent forth a cascade of woke applause as a shooting star with a rainbow trail shot across the hallway alongside a mysterious voice that sung 'THE MORE YOU KNOOOOOOW~'

Then everything went back to normal.

Tone now back to planet earth, Francesca readdressed Pesto with a confident smile and toss her long brown hair. "Plus, on homecoming night Angie tricked me, giving me what I thought was a painkiller, but turned out to be an illegal party drug, soooooo she's on the top of my 'Must Destroy' List now, and I realized it would be much more productive to project my desire for vindication and revenge out on her instead of you," she said with a happy lilt that obviously belied an ocean of contempt for a certain skinny punk Panda in her voice.

...Yep, there's the old Francesca I know.

"...You're a real Mother Teresa, Francesca," Pesto replied in a tone as dry as sandpaper.

"I prefer to style myself as more of a modern-day Marie Antoinette," Francesca postured with her fingertips smugly brushing across her chest. "Pawshake of truce?" The Husky extended her paw out, clearly still imagining how fun and chic it must have been to live in 18th century France.

Pesto blinked sardonically at the comparison. "You know Marie Antoinette was an unsavvy dictator that pissed off the poor commoners enough that they brutally executed her... never mind."

*Epic Pawshake*

Clearly not wanting to linger, Francesca checked the time on her luxury wristwatch, that she used instead of her phone because she was just, so sophisticated you guys. "Well, I best be off now, before I make a habit of being nice and deferential. I have a busy week ahead of me. Lots of PR work to do after all my blunders at homecoming, not to mention responding to the public pressure to loosen the popularity point requirements for our Annual Exclusionist Halloween Party, ugh. Anyway, I'll see you after school. Au revoir~"

"Uh yeah, thanks I guess?" Pesto responded, still somewhat uncertain why blood hadn't been drawn in that encounter. Leaning against her now-closed locker, she let out a drawn-out 'Huh...' pondering what twist of fate led to that encounter.

Apparently, she wasn't bitter rivals with Francesca anymore? That was something to sit down and scratch your balls over. If you told her a week ago that this would happen, Pesto would have snorted her sinuses out at the ridiculous thought.

With the encounter finally sinking in, the Badger took out her phone from her cluttered purse, opening up an album titled 'Francesca blackmail fire emoji skull and crossbones emoji fire emoji' in her photos ap. The forefront displayed a myriad of embarrassing photos of Francesca acting like a certifiable lunatic at the homecoming dance, from climbing up to the gymnasium's ceiling rafters to making such a mess at the food station that it looked like a hoarder's asshole exploded. They were pretty fucking great photos.

But with as oddly nice as Francesca seemed just now, maybe Pesto didn't need this blackmail anymore...? In fact the Badger almost felt bad for having it on here. Who knew, she might even be able to sort of become *friends* with Francesca now...

Pesto's thumb hovered above the 'delete' button on the photo album. This could be the start of powerful alliance between two girl bosses whoop whoop feminism. All it would take would be one little push...

*record scratching noises*

"What am I, fucking stupid?" The Badger humorously asked herself, leaving the photo album undeleted as she meandered to her next class, humming happily.

Toru's Epilogue

Toru's Life Tour: How I learned to stop worrying and love being gay

Fourth Entry: Everything Worked Out!

October 20th, 2018 (plus or minus 5 years)

*unknown entity clicks on video*

The video begins with a fluffy Akita in a rainbow tie-dye shirt and Mardi-Gras beads smiling with a nervous warmth into his webcam, to the backdrop of his impressively organized eggplant purple room with various wholesome stuffed animals and musical posters.

"Hey everyone, it's Toru again," the well-groomed Akita began with a smile, letting out a conflicted laugh before getting into the meat of his vlog. "So, as some of you know, I tried to do a livestream last night, about homecoming night..." Toru's enthusiasm quickly ebbed as he began to slip into a thousand yard stare as whatever the gay teen equivalent of wartime memories surfaced to the forefront of his mind: "But we all know how that turned out..."

Light night's livestream's comment section:

"Himb iz thicc boyeee"

"Big Potat lub him sum purpz colur, 13/10."

"Gud Loaf boi doing us a hecking Livestream"

"CHONK FOR DAYS"

"OH LAWD HE COMIN!!!1!"

"You in to cuckholding by chance?"

After a brief moment of wallowing in his memories of powerlessness at the onslaught of unforeseen doggo memery, the Akita quickly shook off the feelings of encroaching cringe and pulled himself together. "I'm not really sure what happened yesterday's livestream, so to make up for it, I decided to make a quick video to update you on what happened!"

The Akita steepled his paws together before clasping them together in a ball, as if to momentarily recapture the magic of the night in his mind. "Oh god, homecoming was so amazing..." he began with a giddy little laugh. "Everything was dark neon colors, and there were drag queens and a crazy smorgasbord of different food, and they had glow-in-the-dark hula hoops suspended from the ceiling and they played Kim Petraz and Lady Gaw Gaw songs- and I found out that more of my real life friends were gay and then I hung out with other gay people and it was amazing and a blessed experience I felt like I belonged and I'm getting emotional all over again and give me a minute to compose myself, hold on."

Inundated with joy, Toru stifled a few happy sobs before the kaleidoscopic wave of gay emotion overtook him. "And my crush had a fight with his toxic girlfriend and it was really upsetting, but then I talked to him and he like opened up to me and even kissed me goodnight, and it's like our worlds of our minds collided together in a brief mingling of star-crossed destiny... ah..." Toru practically crooned with paws delicately clasped together, and one leg curled upward. Realizing that the trajectory of his update was veering violently off course to teenage fantasy marshmallow land, the Akita righted his posture, a faint red blush lingering in his inner ears.

"Uh... but there is one last thing! Kind of going off the momentum of last Friday, I... came out to my parents. They were... strangely cool with it," the Akita revealed with a subdued smile and shrug. "Only hiccup was that Dad started making some bad jokes about how I should be careful to not get AIDS, but then Taro actually told him it wasn't cool and I was like... wow... maybe my twin brother isn't just completely absorbed with his bro persona and actually has some emotional capacity to be sensitive. Can you believe that?"

The Akita chuckled mirthfully, before leading up to obligatory takeaway of his coming out 101 experience for good bois. "So yeah, it almost seems silly how scared I was before considering how well everything turned out... I guess I was just so afraid of getting bullied or stereotyped that I didn't realize that I actually live in a really liberal community. And I was so focused on what could go wrong that I didn't even stop to consider what could go right..." he pondered with a new, relaxed sense of perspective in his tone.

"It's true that you might get hurt... but you might discover something really valuable. Or you might even get hit on by a jock who's so into football that he still hasn't realized what an incredibly gay simp he his. You just keep on going forward and find out, I guess... But look at me, philosophizing like I'm not still a 'baby gay' or whatever the term is," Toru said with a good dose of levity and a forward swish of both his paws.

"I just wanted to say that, being gay isn't always a curse. It took me a while to figure that out, and..." The Akita took a moment to look back at the Polar Bear plushy sitting between his bed's pillows. A massive grin stretched across his muzzle from ear to ear. "Now I can't wait to see what happens next!" he beamed brightly, before his happy figured abruptly shifted to full on sour grapes.

"And for all of you who keep on spamming doggo speak on my livestream, I just have one thing to say," Toru said with unprecedented levels of dryness.

"Please stop."

*End of video*

Rob and Scott's epilogue

...What a weekend.

What a fucking epic weekend.

What to even begin? I mean nearly 7 chapters worth of shit happened on Friday. But I guess the highlight would be that I unleashed my inner alcoholic and came out of the closet to my friends, and they didn't even care! Turns out like, the majority of us like dick, so I've been wasting my sanity on a fool's errand of staying in the closet from other queer peers (who also happen to all be incredibly hot, FUCK CLOSETED ROB AND HIS SHITTY DECISIONS).

Then on Saturday I had my first hangover, thanks to my full proof coming out strategy involving me drinking an ungodly amount of alcohol that scientifically should have killed me. I swear to Christ, that morning I felt like I was simultaneously experiencing all the nausea from every single cold and bug I ever had. Predictably, I did jack shit that day aside from gewgling ineffectual ways to curb a hangover. Well, I guess I did have a little fun crashing Toru's livestream with a bunch of internet peeps form Readit /gay/ that I told to comment exclusively in doggo speak, kek kek kek. I've barely been out of the closet and I'm already the worst gay friend ever, oops (Toru at least got some subscribers out of it, so I don't really feel bad, if I'm being real here).

And for Sunday, well... POUND THE ALARM, cause for the first time in 5ever, Ya homeboi went on a fucking date with erryone's favorite slab of Rottweiler beef!

But seriously, it wasn't anything big, Daren and I just reminisced on how fucking awesome homecoming was as we gorged on giant Panchero's burritos. The only other thing we did was stop by for dessert at that really hip Japanese bakery a bit north of Columbus: Bell's Bread. Yeah, it was like a twenty-minute drive from Daren's place, but those fucking coffee cake rolls man, holy hell I've never tasted anything so fluffy and heavenly in my life.

And get this: I even got some of the cream filling stuck on my whiskers, which Daren teased me for before leaning across the table to lick off.

So fucking cheesy, but so fucking hot.

Of course, we both had homework to do, so I drove him home and... we kissed each other goodnight! I couldn't stop myself from thinking back to it and breaking into the 'uwu' emoji expression as I failed to get all my homework done, hehe. It was... really nice. I just really like spending time with him. We're not quite official yet, though: because of closeted ex-boyfriend drama in Daren's tragic backstory, the conclusion we reached was that if I really want to move beyond 'just dating' status then, I was gonna need to come out to Chris and Scott too. But how hard could that be? Both Chris and Scott were gay and bi respectively, so it wasn't like they'd give a shit. Coming out to them was going to be easy as a Japanese coffee cake roll.

Or so I thought, because then Monday morning happened...

"SPACE UNICORN, SOARING THE THROUGH THE STARS~ DELIVERING THE RAINBOWS, ALL AROUND THE WORLD~"

I violently smashed my alarm until it was a pile of nothing but smithereens, because like every stereotypical protagonist of gay furry slice of life stories on this trash website, I fucking hated weekday mornings.

Groaning at the prospect of spending another day at the neoliberal hyper clique-oriented circus that was my school, I groggily checked my phone, my eyes peeling open at a text from Scott that read: 'gonna be like 5 mins late, sry'. The message from my best bud kicked-started a drunk memory: at homecoming Jayce informed me that I said something really hurtful to Scott last Friday.

"Ah shit," I moaned out loud to the dick-punch of reality that sent me in a downward spiral of worry. I knew there was still a loose end to this happy ending...

As far back as I could remember there wasn't a single weekend that I hadn't at least shared a meme or two with Scott. But this weekend had been total radio silence between us. In other words, I was so occupied with my own shit that I basically ignored my best friend (whose feelings I most certainly hurt) for two days, and in return he apparently didn't feel comfortable contacting me either... oof. Feels bad man.

As I absentmindedly put on my clothes and gelled up my hair, I tried to wrack my brain to think of what I said/did that could have upset him, to no avail. All I knew, thanks to Jayce, was supposedly it was something I said in the locker room. Even though I had a mental breakdown around then, I still remembered most of it, and as far as I could remember Scott was like, the one person I didn't completely read to filth. It was a shitty feeling, knowing that you fucked up and couldn't even have the decency to recognize exactly what the shitty thing you did was.

Minutes passed like seconds in my worry and before I knew it, I was eating a nutritional breakfast of sugar-glazed Diabetes-O's (part of a healthy breakfast!) in the kitchen dining table. I texted Jayce between spoonfuls, asking him if he knew what I said to Scott and how it might have upset him. Punctual texter as he was, hardly a minute had passed before I got a response from the Iguana.

In far too many words with way too many syllables, Jayce explained that apparently when I shook Scott and asked "you wanted to fuck me this whole time?!", he took that as a jab at his bisexuality instead of a joke, or me being frustrated that he didn't tell me earlier, or... yeah okay in retrospect what I said was really bad.

I could easily fix things though, right? I just had to tell him I was gay, I meant it in a 'why didn't you tell me sooner' kind of way, and that it was just a big misunderstanding! I was planning on coming out to him anyway, but at this point I basically had a moral obligation to do it. Easy fix, right? All I had to do was come out to Scott...

Who just so happened to be my biggest crush since middle school...

And was maybe the hottest person I know...

But it wasn't like I was gonna secretly hope that he liked me back or anything! I don't want to cheat on Daren, that loveable Rottie deserves way better than that after his last shithole of a boyfriend!

...Heh, Just imagine how stupid it would be if it turned out Scott had feelings for me like I ha... used to have for him? That would be so fucking cliché, haha! A fucking love triangle? What is this, 2005? I'm way above that...

...So nothing to worry about, right? Right?! Right...?

"Why the long face, son?" my half-conscious father muttered from across the dining table, clearly dreading the workday as he lifelessly sipped on his black coffee. "Need some coffee? Lord knows I do right now..."

Yeah, in the morning Dad was always deader than last week's memes. Still, I couldn't help but feel the need to... air my feelings? "I dunno. I think Scott and I might be fighting? Low-key though, nothing major."

"Really? You and Scott?" My mom asked with sudden interest as she refilled the essential oil diffuser with that awful lavender oil shit in the nearby sunroom. "You two are basically inseparable. What happened?"

"I dunno, I think I might have told a bad joke that he took as a serious jab and hurt his feelings, or something lame and uninteresting like that..." I vaguely responded, not wanting to get too deep into the topic.

Mom gave me a well-intentioned but still condescending raised eyebrow, whereas my Dad looked at me with a reassuring low-brow smile. "It's Scott, Rob. You'd basically have to murder his family for him to hate you. Just be honest with him and I'm sure he'll come around," he responded warmly, awkwardly reaching across the table to give me the world's most impractical series of pats on the shoulder.

"Yeah... yeah, I'll do that. Thanks Dad. I think I'm going to wait outside for Scott to pick me up now," I responded, careful to not sound too grateful, slinking backwards away from Dad's intrusive shoulder patting.

Withdrawing his extended paw, Dad grinned at me replying "atta boy" before accidentally knocking over his coffee mug, copious amounts of coffee staining his work clothes. Mom and I exchanged glances briefly, bracing for impact as Dad's eyes began to discolor in sheer rage. Mom promptly signaled me to take cover, which I complied with by darting into living room and taking shelter behind the loveseat. "MOTHER FUCKING CUNT MUCUS HONKEY CRACKER ASS PROLAPSING PUMA PENIS VIRGIN HOOKER CHARLAMAGNE!" Dad shrieked in a veritable explosion, unleashing fire, brimstone and gale-force winds that tore up the immediate vicinity. He then stormed upstairs grumbling on his quest to change his clothes.

...and this is why I blame all the weird shit I say on Dad's side of the family.

Completely unfazed by Dad's little scene and the wreckage that once was our kitchen, Mom smiled as she tossed me a fully-loaded gym bag, "Oh, and don't forget your gym bag with your football uniform in it that you forgot to wash last night, and I so generously washed for you~"

"Sorry Mom, thanks..." I muttered as I caught the bag, guiltily not making eye contact.

Now armed and ready to face the day with my freshly laundered football uniform and gym clothes, I went over to the front door to kick on my shoes and slip on my backpack. At right about the same time my sister... manifested out of nowhere next to me, lacing up her black boots. Usually I'd just be moderately annoyed by her unnecessarily gothic presence and layers of black makeup, but after the huge solid she did for me last Friday, I started to feel guilty. I don't know what possessed me, but I felt the urge to say something... nice *shudders mentally*. "Hey Anne," I muttered, only looking at my Tiger sister through the corner of my eyes.

"Yes?" she responded in her usual monotone.

"You uh... you've got good fashion sense... or something, I dunno," I mumbled incoherently, blushing like fucking Tsundere trash.

"Oh. Well, thank you kindly for the compliment," She replied coolly, trying to maintain her apathetic composure while the faintest smile cracking on her lips.

"You're welcome... I guess, whatever, don't make a bid deal out of it," I replied poutily as she walked out the door and down the front porch with forced grace. I sighed deeply, wondering what had gotten over me to do something so lame.

That was when I couldn't help but notice that My mom's head was peaking out from the kitchen wall. She was gawking at me with disgustingly delighted surprise, "Oh my goodness, Rob, were you just nice to your sister?"

"Why are you making a big deal out of it? It was just a little compliment..." I groaned back with arms crossed like the angsty teen I was.

"You never compliment her though. What brought about the sudden change of heart? I've been trying to get you to be nicer to her for years," she blathered excitedly as if this little minute thing I did was suddenly piping hot Tea that needed spilling.

"...She helped me defeat my archnemesis," I admitted in a mutter as I swallowed my pride, hoping it would be enough to get her off my case.

"Your archnemesis?" My mom questioned out loud. "Oh, do you mean your refusal to accept your gay identity and how it leads you to appropriating a toxic funny-guy jock persona that leaves no room for emotional vulnerability and prevents you from being an open and happy person?" Mom suggested with bright eyes. "It's so nice that your sister helped you with your internal personal struggle!"

Uuuuugh, moms and their weirdly accurate psychoanalysis. "Noooo. I meant my _other_archnemesis, Francesca Buchanan, you know, my fake homecoming date slash beard with the France fetish? Anne used her evil goth wicka pescatarian socialist astrology magic to summon forth waves of murderous undead to terrorize her into letting me go to homecoming with Daren."

"Oh, well that was still very sweet of her. I'm sure she's gonna be a great conflict resolution specialist and or evil sorceress one day!"

"One day?" I dryly parroted back. "As if she isn't an evil sorceress already," I chuckled lightly before growing tired of all the attention and marched on outside to the backdrop of my mom wishing me a good day at school.

Now, Scott usually picked me up before Anne's friends showed up (only those with a death wish would dare ride the public school buses in Ohio), but since Scott was running late I got to see my sister's... pleasant... older goth friend, Eboneese Dark-Ness Vampira Fae Wilde. Anne's ridiculously-named friend parked at the end of our driveway in the cul-de-sac, her car being a black cruiser car with black feral bats and vampire teeth painted all over it, making it look tackier than the cars in that Halloween Scooby Due special where the strongest man in the universe Shaggi raced a bunch of C-list reject Halloween monsters.

"Ew, Anathyme Ravencraft (Oh God is that Anne's Goth name? criiiinge), is that preppy jock waiting over there like your cousin or something?" the black clad Lemur behind the wheel remarked as my sister lifelessly took the shotgun seat.

"No, that's my brother... he's sympathetic to the dark arts," Anne responded flatly with a vacant emptiness in her voice. I was fully expecting to have to come up with a witty retort, but found myself blinking in surprise that my sister didn't throw me under the bus to seem cool to her friend.

"Oh, cool then," the Lemur replied before quickly losing interest. "I need to listen to something that resonates with the darkness in my torture soul, so I'm going to put on some Good Charlotte on the way to prison... I mean, school," was the last thing I heard the stereotype say before Anne closed the door shut, and the goth-mobile was quickly on its way, agitating the edgeless air of suburbia on its way.

I shook my head at the stupidity of it all, but at the same time I couldn't help but smile a bit that Anne kind of covered my tail by calling me 'sympathetic to the dark arts', heh...

After a while of trying to distract myself by diddling with my phone, I eventually spotted Scott's spiffy white sports car father down the subdivision, moving suspiciously slowly toward my house. I could tell something was wrong when the car randomly stopped for a minute. My stomach shifted uncomfortably with a low aching feeling as I watched his car slowly creep its way around the cul-de-sac before stopping by my driveway.

As I paced forward, I soon noticed that the Polar Bear's eyes were bloodshot and spacey, and his shoulders slumped forward listlessly. Scott had the radio playing on some forgetful channel, which I found odd because he almost never listened to the radio.

"Hey Scott," I said nonchalantly, belying how damn nervous I was as I creeped my way toward my seat.

He gave me a weak smile with only the slightest eye contact. "Hey," he replied in a low, gravelly voice, before looking downward at the steering wheel. Scott then accidentally pressed down on the gas pedal while the car was in park, revving the engine loudly. "Whoops..."

Yeah okay, something was clearly fucked up here. Scott was supposed to be a happy person. Seeing him like this made my fucking soul ache.

I stopped before entering shotgun, my paw lingering on the car door. I had a bad feeling that if I got in like this, we'd be in for a long, silent car ride. "Woah, you look rough as hell. What happened to you dude?" I asked despite a strong suspicion lurching in my gut that I was to blame.

"Oh, it's nothing," he responded evasively, as if he knew well in advance that the question was coming.

"Well it's clearly something. Are you even good to drive right now? Seriously what happened?"

He weakly shook his head, as if convincing himself of something, then weakly glanced at me. He was almost timid in the way he looked at me from the corner of his eye. "...Last night I just wanted to get my mind off shit and do something productive, so I took a bit too much of my Adderall. Had trouble sleeping last night..."

That was a red flag if I ever heard one.

Scott very rarely used his ADHD meds; his ADHD wasn't even that bad. I learned all about it from him late at night when we used to sleep over at each other's places in middle school: Scott's mom just freaked out that he didn't like doing homework, and assumed there had to be some sort of disorder, so she took him to a dozen different doctors until she finally found one that yielded that it was possible that he _might_have diagnosable ADHD. Then of course she badgered the poor doctor until he wrote up Scott a prescription for Adderall that he didn't even need...

...But he still had the prescription and pills, and from years of me taking notice, I had pieced together that Scott would use his Adderall on only two specific occasions. One, when he done fucked up and needed to cram for an important test and Two, when he wanted to keep himself distracted from... negative emotions. Like the ones I caused.

Goddammit, I really fucked up, didn't I?

"Oh Scott, you know what that shit does to you," I couldn't help the concern pouring into my voice, causing me to sound like a worrywart mom. "I'm not even going to ask how many doses you took cause evidently it was way too much."

I faintly picked up Scott sighing under his breath. "I guess... but I actually got all my homework done and worked out like a beast so... it wasn't all bad," He rationalized, gaze once again dipping down as if deeply embarrassed.

"I don't want you to have trouble sleeping though," I pressed on, leaning forward in a vain attempt to get him to look directly at me. Goddamn it was aching me to see Scott this... unhappy.

"I guess..." he half-conceded, still not looking at me, to my deep dissatisfaction.

Fuck this was awkward. Scott was clearly a wreck right now, and what was worse was that he was being incredibly evasive as if he was afraid to say anything around me. That was proof enough that what I did was a huge factor in his current mood, meaning the situation showed no signs of improving unless I addressed and cleared up what I said.

"Hey Scott, do you actually mind stepping out of the car and talking for a bit before we go?" I asked with a sudden rush of urgency and a racing heartbeat.

"Oh... we're already running late though," he mumbled half-heartedly.

"We're on the varsity football team of a high school in Ohio, nobody's gonna give a shit if we're late to homeroom."

"Fair enough," Scott sighed, languidly killing the engine and getting out of the car. He walked heavily over to me by the end of the driveway, stopping abreast to me such that he wasn't quite facing me. A sense of dread permeating the air around him. When I shifted so that we could talk face to face, the Polar Bear shivered violently as if he suddenly anticipated me wanting to hit him or something. I felt like the world's biggest asshole at that moment.

I clumsily bumbled my way into the topic, "Like, no jokes, no 'no homo's', you're like... actually bi, right? Like, equally like guys and girls?" I asked unevenly, scratching the backside of his head.

Scott visibly frowned, unable to hide his discomfort with the topic. It briefly left me feeling like I had just kicked a puppy, but evidently it was phrased neutrally enough that he still answered. "Not exactly fifty fifty, that's like a... misconception or whatever. But... that's the general idea, yeah." His answer was painfully unenthusiastic.

"Um, alright then. Cool," I said with no clear direction to my inflection. Scott shifted uncomfortably, my vague reply evidently sitting ill in his imagination.

Aahh, what am I doing? I caused this! Why am I asking about his sexuality like I I'm secretly judging him?

I was opened my mouth to say... something reassuring, but Scott beat me to it, "Look, I don't know if I really want to talk about this right now. Can we just go to school and forget about it?" the tired Polar Bear asked with unhappy sigh, clearly suffering from the awkwardness as much as I was.

"Well I... I wanted to... AGH!" I let out a sudden snarl of frustration at how bad I was at this. My sudden roar caused Scott to shift nervously, now looking at me warily, and I finally ratcheted up the courage to get to the point. "I suck at this. Look, this is all my fault. I think I might have said some things last Friday about it that weren't cool. I just wanted to apologize, and I didn't lead into it well. I'm sorry," I said with one paw clasping at my heart and the other extended toward him, me trying to show him that I felt for him and meant no ill will.

It took a moment for Scott to realize that the anger was directed at myself rather than him, but when he did realize the Polar Bear finally relaxed a little. "...Thanks. But, you don't gotta apologize, Rob. It's my fault. I got too excited that homecoming was LGBT themed and I blurted it out of nowhere like a dumbass. I just gotta learn that not everybody's going to like it."

Ooooohhhhhh no, Scott, that's not how I feel at all!

"No! Just, no! Don't let me off the hook like that! What I did wasn't okay! I'm the one to blame here, I'm the clueless fuckhead with the stupid gutter whore mouth, okay! I'd rather you be mad at me than depressed like this, I just..." I trailed off.

Oh my god. This was so fucked up. Why did this feel so fucked up? Why did I have to hurt my best friend over literally fucking nothing?! He was my favorite fucking person in the whole world! NO MORE FUCKING PUSSYFOOTING!

"I didn't say what I said because I have a problem with it," my mouth suddenly started moving to a feeling of sudden urgency. "I said it because I'm okay with it... I'm... uh, I'm more than okay with it." As vague as my last sentence was, I still felt like my fucking heart was going to jump out of my ribcage.

It was the first thing I said that finally seemed to fully reach Scott. He looked directly at me, his bloodshot eyes opened wide, curiosity flitting within. "...'More than okay with it'? What do you mean?" he asked in a now whisper.

His final four words echoed loudly in my mind, and OH LORDY I WAS SWEATING LIKE A HOOKER IN CHURCH.

"I mean..." I stuttered, my throat suddenly feeling very tight and my tongue very dry. At that moment, the thought of telling Scott that I was gay caused me to seize up in fear. There was some phantasm clawing at my psyche and clawing up my courage. That sensation of terror was staggering. It was worse than the fear of coming out to Toru, Daren and Francesca _combined._What was it that was making this so hard? He's my best friend, my best _bisexual_friend! There wasn't any logical reason for me to be afraid, yet my thoughts were a discordant mess. What were all these weird feelings assaulting me?

But it seemed like every second I stalled, the more and more I saw the hope drain away from Scott's expression. I knew I had to act soon or else I was gonna fuck up again. So fine, it wasn't working; I still couldn't say the goddamn G-word. Maybe explaining my sexual identity would have to wait a bit, but that didn't mean I couldn't make this right!

I resolved to do what I had to. I lurched forward and caught Scott's body in the tightest, firmest hug I could manage, and for once I let my emotions spill out.

"I love you man..." I squeaked out in a sappy, cracking voice. "And nothing's ever going to change that."

I could feel Scott tense up in surprise, and then felt his frame shudder as my words sunk in. "Rob..." he sniveled out, relief, ache and so much more spilling into his voice. Before long Scott relaxed and gingerly returned the hug. He slowly rested his muzzle on my shoulder when he realized it wasn't some cruel joke, warmth radiating from his muscular chest now pressed against mine.

"You're my best friend..." I continued, voice shaky as ever as I struggled to put words to how much this Polar Bear meant to me. "We're going to OSU together, we're going to have our graduation parties together, and we're going to grow old together and retire in the same town. I don't know if either of us is having kids, but if we do we're gonna talk their fucking ears off with stories of all our adventures together, because there ain't anybody else in this world who I care about as much as you. I was a dumbass. I'll never hurt you again. I fucking love you. Please forgive me."

The most satisfying laughing sob escaped Scott's mouth, as I felt his hug tighten into a full-on squeeze, warming my heart. "Fuck man, you're going to make me cry..." He said with a reserved sniffle, and a wet laugh. "I love you too, man... You're the best..." he cheeped back to me in a voice straining with emotion.

The pitch of his reply must have been at that rumored frequency that makes people cry, because I felt a few tears beginning to sting my eyelids. "I'm fucking making myself cry here, man. This is hard shit!" I said as I reciprocated the hard squeeze, feeling as though all my care and love for Scott was reaching him through it.

We stood there, holding a hug for a short while, no words needed, our body heat and the echo of our emotional talk warming up us.

After a short while we began rocking the hug side to side, giggling as we did it.

It was pretty gay.

We broke out into full on laughter, tears still teasing our eyelids.

I moved back and stared into Scott's blue eyes: The usual brightness was back in his eyes.

I couldn't help but smile warmly, feeling so happy to see his spark back.

Scott smiled back.

We stared kissing and then- WHAT THE FUCK?!

Our eyes darted open with the terrible realization that our lips were fucking locked together.

"WOAH SHIT SORRY!" Scott said as he recoiled backwards with his hands held up harmlessly.

Nearly in shock at my own stupidity, I found my jaw nearly dislocated as it dropped lower than I thought physically possible. Not wanting a repeat of my previous debacle of accidentally sounding homophobic, I waved my hands in denial like a manic jazz hands coach. "Nono, you're good, you're good. I just... I dunno, sorry, I dunno what happened there. It's not your fault though!"

Scott swiftly stowed his paws away in his pockets, and cleared his throat as if it would clear a whole lot more than whatever was in his throat. "...Yeah, it uh... just sort of happened, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah. Funny how stuff like that randomly happens from time to time, for no good reason..." I mused, all the while sounding GUILTY AS HELL.

Scott's nose began twitching with a vengeance as his eyes darted in every direction away from me. "Was it..." my best friend's tone dipped in embarrassment. "...Bad?"

All O.3 seconds of it were fucking amazing.

"No, no, it was... alright. It was very... alright," I reassured him, the insides of my ears blazing hotter than the surface of the sun.

"Yeah, yeah, it was pretty alright, wasn't it?"

"As alright as All-Might, who's a character from a show I watch. Hehe! Alright!" I cracked with an intentionally lame inflection, and pointless arm pump.

"Heh, I feel like we've said the word 'alright' so many times now that it's starting to sound weird."

"Well _alrighty_then. Ha! Uh..."

During our _poetic_exchange, we had walked back to the car and began leaning against the hood, the oppressive air of awkwardness defaulted us into staring out vacantly into the distance like fucking Charlie Brown characters. There was no way in Satan's Earth that we were making eye contact after that moment.

I started mindless scratching my forearm and cleared my voice for no particular reason. Scott started whistling 'Row Row Row Your Boat' in the world's most painfully obvious attempt at a diversion. I had never experienced a moment as cursed as now.

Scott finally broke the hell silence of ultimate cringe, with a delightfully practical suggestion. "Hey, you want to go to school now?"

I couldn't nod in agreement fast enough. "Yeah, I never thought I'd say this, but going to school sounds pretty good right about now."