Lost Within the Frame
Zakuyoe
Chapitre Deux: Chicken Thighs and Bread Sticks

"Two things," I hiss as soon as I see that familiar face in the school hallways. His raven-colored hair is spiked today, which I find the least bit surprising. After all, today is Tuesday, and he always spikes his hair on Tuesdays and Thursdays... not that I've purposely paid attention or anything. I mean, best friends know these kind of things, right...?

He raises his hand in a greeting and repeats what I say. "Two good things?" he clarifies afterward.

I nod in reply. "First," I begin, reaching into my front pocket, "your tie," and I toss it lightly at his face. "And the other thing's that picture my mom took last night."

"She developed the pictures already?" Scott asks while removing the dangling tie hanging from the tip of his nose. "Your mom's insane, dude!"

"Not really," I reply, pulling out my wallet. "It's this oh-so-wonderful thing called a digital camera. Takes seconds to 'develop,' though I suppose she is a little crazy, printing wallet-sized copies for the both of us and all." I frown at the photo as I stare at it, and then, after handing the photo to him, my lips twist into a forced smile. "This one's yours."

"Thanks," he replies, taking a look before he snickers. Granted it's pretty damn obvious why he's laughing, but I decide not to let him win that easily. "You've got a small waist."

"So I'm fucking thin," I reply, scowling. "I haven't forgotten, nor will you ever let me. It's not like I'm anorexic or anything." It's becoming harder and harder to keep a straight face, and even more so to get him to back down first. Though, apparently, he's determined to win.

"If you'd only eat some more," he mutters, holding out his left arm in the air while holding the picture with his right. "I mean, I could easily wrap my arm twice around it."

"No you couldn't," I snap. Yet he only smirks, which isn't the most encouraging of actions. "Seriously, even if you do have long arms, there's no way you could ever do it."

"I'll bet you on it," he mumbles, and suddenly he's stepping toward me. "See, I'll even show you." And of course, though definitely not to Scott's surprise, I jump back and push him off, shaking my head. "See, you know I'm right."

"You're so wrong, dude!" I exclaim, though already he knows I've lost. "Okay, fine, you win. My mom really did get your arm around my waist in the picture. But there's no way your arm could really fit around me twice."

"If only you weren't so homophobic I'd show you right now," Scott says, smirking at the idea of my imminent protest. "But of course, now we'll never know." I sigh believably, shrugging as I pretend I cared about the mishap. Granted I really didn't, but it was just so random of a idea to really care about. "Anyway," says Scott in an attempt to change the subject. "Anyway, we should probably get to class now."

"Yeah," I reply, sighing. Sadly enough, I don't have any classes with Scott until past lunch, mainly because half my classes are too advanced. Not to say that Scott's stupid, because he isn't, but... I suppose I'm too smart for my own good. "I'll see you at lunch, then?"

"For sure," he replies. But then, "Hey, Ryan?" Scott calls a few seconds after I've headed in the opposite direction. "That bet's still up, you know. Two dollars to me if my arm fits around yours twice."

For some reason, I don't take the offer.

-

Being smart doesn't mean you like school.

"I hate school," I mumble as I bite into a chicken sandwich. Granted it's cafeteria food, it's not exactly the best of ingredients; but regardless it's enough to satisfy my hunger. At my school there're two lunch periods, as the cafeteria can't exactly house twenty-five hundred students at the same time, and though I have Scott not all of us made it to the same lunch period; Luke's not in our lunch, though being the flirt he is I suppose he doesn't mind.

So we're a group of three at lunch... though I do prefer Luke over Eric.

"Who doesn't hate school?" Scott asks, though to no one in particular. "I mean, no one really cares about school. It's only a social venue, as far as I see it."

"Which means you can't benefit from it," I conclude, and he pouts. "What? You don't have many friends, after all."

"That's so not true," Scott snaps, though the both of us know I'm only kidding. Actually Scott's higher up on the social pyramid than I am, and he clearly has more connections than I do. Still, I suppose if he can call me homophobic I have the right to consider him socially challenged. Not to mention Luke's sex hungry and Eric's vertically obsessed, the four of us seem to have our own titles.

Speaking of whom, Eric is merely starting at us from his side of the table, accompanied only by his four chicken sandwiches. In a way you could say Luke's his best friend, and he really only hangs around us because Luke does. Sure, he addresses us as a group, but usually he never talks to us unless he has to. Of course, that also happens to be our reasoning too... and Scott and I definitely don't mind the fact that he doesn't talk to us often.

This happens to be one of those rare moments. "Sorry to bother you," Eric interrupts, "but, um, do any of you have the English homework?"

Scott shakes his head and sighs, irritated. "No, Eric, I don't. Now can I get back to giving Ryan his hand job? I'm in dire need of hair gel." He points to his hair, though Eric and I are both busy gagging to actually look at him.

"I have it here, hold on," I mutter, reaching into my bag.

"Hurry up!" Scott exclaims. "My hands twitching already. How the hell can you get crap assignments when you're so close to climax?" I make no reply, mainly to prevent myself from giving Scott the reaction he's looking for, and instead hand quickly to Eric the desired papers. "There're your damn papers," Scott seethes. "Now get to copying it shamelessly while I make Ryan come already."

I laugh at Eric's reaction, but my mood quickly changes the second I feel a hand on my thigh. "Don't even think about it," I scold, and Scott frowns. Not that I expected him not to, but somehow I was under the impression he wouldn't give in so easily to remove himself from my thigh... though I'm not complaining.

"That reminds me," Eric says, clearing his throat. "Luke said he wanted to go to the mall later today."

"The mall?" Scott and I exclaim simultaneously. "Why does he wanna go there?" I add.

"Just because," Eric mutters, shrugging. "I think it's just his own little way of us hanging out, you know? That's how Luke is." I turn to Scott and he shrugs at me, and I'm left with no other choice but to shrug back.

"I'm not sure if I can go," Scott says, and for some reason I feel slightly disappointed. "I'll have to ask the 'rents, first."

"I can go, most likely," I reply, bringing to mind an image of my parents in my mind. That plump woman and her lanky husband... not the best of mental images, let me tell you. "My parents really don't care much about where I go, nowadays."

"Well in that case, I can go too!" I turn at Scott in disbelieve, but his cheesy grin only forces me to laugh. Eric looks uncomfortably between the two of us, but with a relented sigh he shrugs and bites into his lunch.

"I'll tell Luke then. Though, if I may ask, try not to seem too much of a faggy couple while we're there. Deal?"

"We'll be as faggy as possible," Scott says, pulling me so close to him I can feel hot warm his skin feels... through his shirt, of course. "But it's a deal. Right, Ryan?"

I falter and push him away. "Not so much the faggy part, but sure... and I'm not homophobic!" I know he doesn't believe me, though. I only wish he did.

-

It's not long before we're at the local mall. Ignoring the fact that it's a Tuesday and that there really isn't much to do at a mall on a weekday, Scott and Luke keep assuring us that we'll have tons of fun... though admittedly a weekday visit to the mall probably means it won't be so crowded. It's not like I need telling twice though, especially since I am oh-so-very positive that listening to Scott's crap in the car will be much fun.

It's not until we're five minutes away that Scott's world comes crashing down... again. "I hate this music."

"Me too," Eric and I both chorus, glad that Luke's put the fact in the open. The truth is, Scott might as well be the only white person to listen to rap at our school, a sad fact indeed. "You've got nothing better?" I add, plugging my ears dramatically as I shudder violently in a very believable manner, so believable Luke decides to compliment me on it.

"Of course not," Scott mutters with what I believe is a fake, depressed tone in his voice. "Besides, we're already here."

"Not really," I inform as we come to a stop in front of a red light. "Forty-five seconds. Add that to parking, and that should be plenty of time for a new song."

"Long enough to endure a rap song, too," Scott snaps, but nevertheless he changes the radio station. Sure, 80's music isn't the best of music, but it's still much better than rap music. "Happy?"

"Much," comes the united response. In a way I feel bad for Stan... but it's his fault for listening to crappy music. "So what're we doing at the mall, anyway?"

"Store surfing," Luke replies. "What else are we gonna do?" I frown; in my head I silently calculate how much homework I could probably get done in the amount of time we'd be at this mall, but as soon as I realize how much homework could actually get done I decide to stop and avoid learning the answer. Simply put, there are probably... better things I can be doing.

And, as I discover, store surfing is actually more boring that I would've imagined. I don't exactly understand Luke's motives of entering a shop without any money to actually buy anything he finds interesting. Personally I almost never go to the mall, and if I do I go only if I already know what I want; but Luke walks into every other shop, browsing through clothes, games—even lingerie.

"I'm sure that'd look nice on you," Scott tells me, pointing at a blindingly pink... whatever that's supposed to be.

"Up yours, Scott."

"Gladly." I turn away, disgusted, deciding to ignore Eric's 'faggy couple' remark. Admittedly, I am holding up to my part of the deal... though, leave it to Scott to act the way he does just to prove I'm homophobic. I keep telling him I only act the way I do because of the way I was raised, but my personal beliefs say nothing about hating homosexuals—as if he'd ever believe that, though.

"Anyway," I begin, "I think we should be eating some sort of a dinner soon. You know, before Luke scores a date with the store clerk." Scott and Eric both follow my gaze to find Luke pinning a particularly good-looking blonde against the wall, and from where I am I can barely make out a smirk on his face. "Being that this place's a mall, there're many places where we can eat.

"We can just get something at the food court," Eric suggests.

"Or," interjects Scott," there's always the Hooters restaurant near the North entrance... by Sears," he adds for Eric's sake.

"I hate Hooters though," I add, thinking about the last time I ate at that restaurant. "The girls were more interested in flirting than taking my order down..." and though for the most part I didn't mind, eating two hours later wasn't something I had enjoyed very much.

"You hate Hooters?" Luke exclaims, popping over my shoulder; but I quickly explain to him that I'm referring to the restaurant and not the body part. "Oh, okay... I was gonna say, man…."
"Hey Luke, what happened to the hot chick you were seducing earlier?"
"No go. Turns out she's a transvestite."

"'Kay, guys, we still need to decide where we're going!" Eric emits a rather large roar, turning several heads in the lingerie store. "I'm fuckin' hungry, damnit!"

"There's an Olive Garden nearby," I say. "It's not in the mall, but it's still a lot closer than Hooters is." I aim this little bit at Eric, who'd probably take less walking over anything, any day. "Great, so that's two for Olive Garden."

"Aw, come on, guys!" Scott exclaims with a pout. "Men with large and tasty bread sticks?—hot chicks with hooters? I think the answer's very clear."

"Come on, just eat already!" Eric roars once more, which attracts the attention of just about every girl in this shop... and the random guy in the corner with panties pressed to his nose.

"As much as I'd like the chicks..." begins Luke, tapping his feet slowly against the floor. Immediately a smile forms on my face; it appears we're going to Olive Garden, then. "...if I don't choose Olive Garden Eric's gonna enter an unstoppable tantrum, and I'm sure none of us want that."

As Scott frowns I let out a triumphant cheer, almost skipping out of the lingerie store. "Bread sticks, it is!"

-

A bit over an hour later the four of us are back in the mall, walking considerably slower than before due to the food in our greedy stomachs. Service had indeed been quite excellent, and no thanks to Eric we had allowed ourselves to become gloated with pasta and... bread sticks. Sure, it was rather difficult to spot Eric's bloated stomach, especially since he was almost naturally that way; but the rest of us hadn't been so lucky.

"We should be getting home," I tell him, shoving my hands into my pockets. "It's getting late and I've still got homework to do."

Our chauffeur nods in agreement. "I've gotta get going, too." Thankfully enough that's all we need to convince Luke's mind, and with a defeated sigh he nods his head. From that moment we begin making our way to Scott's car, which, thankfully for Luke, is parked on the other side of the mall.

"Don't you admit, guys?" Luke says with a brilliant smile. "Wasn't this a great way to hang out with each other?" Eric and I both shrug our shoulders, and a few seconds later Scott does the same. Admittedly ever since we had chosen bread sticks over chick's thighs Scott has played a low note on all the faggy acclamations, and though I didn't mind him taking my side over theirs during their assaults of our supposed relationship it felt almost... weird.

"I admit," Scott says slowly. "I think the bread sticks were actually rather nice…."

"What'd I tell ya?" I exclaim, turning around. "Didn't I tell you those bread sticks were damn—"

"Photo booth! " Luke yells suddenly, and before anyone can respond he darts away. Scott and I chase after him—leaving a very bloated and pissed Eric behind us—but it's not long at all before we come to a screeching halt in front of a... photo booth.

Who would've guessed?

"Aw, please, does anyone have three dollars...?" Luke whines, searching his pockets. "I've got a dollar, that's it."

"Three dollars?" I ask disbelievingly. "What a rip off!"

"But it's worth it...!" continues Luke, pouting. "I really want to, guys... it'll be fun!" Scott and I look amongst ourselves as Eric catches up to our little congregation. Scott and I both need to get home, though for different reasons, and who knows how long it'd take to take the picture….

"Two dollars?" Eric asks curiously. "Here." And just like that we're pulled into a picture taking moment. As soon as Luke puts the money in he stuffs us into the booth—and granted Eric's with us, that's a pretty hard accomplishment—and Luke's barely fit himself inside when the lights dim, some female's voice booming over us with directions on how to use the machine.

"It's all the same thing," Luke says dismissively, pressing some random button. Before my eyes a bright flash blinds my eyes, and as a camera's shutter is heard I shake my head. That was the first picture?

I voice my opinion and Scott scoffs at me. "Chillax, dude, it's just a picture."

"Chillax?" I repeat, but another flash and I stop thinking about the word. I can feel Eric's side... no, back... pressing into my side, and even though it's all fat it still hurts. A third flash and I find myself leaning against Scott; Eric's beginning to take a lot of room.

"Barf..." the boy says suddenly, and it takes all of us a split second to figure out what Eric means. Though, it's not like any of us really needed to, because within seconds Eric bulldozes Luke out of the booth, hurling into a nearby trash can.

"I should probably check on him," Luke says quickly, dashing away... which leaves….

"Pucker up," Scott utters quickly before planting his lips on me.

The fourth flash.

-

"If you weren't so damn homophobic," Scott says with a smirk as he drives me home; we've already dropped off Luke and Eric. "You know, one day when we have children... yes when, not if... that photo could've been our symbol of our undying, teen love…."

I stare at him in the darkness of the car, shaking my head in bewilderment. "See, now that's the Scott I know. Where were you earlier today?—not that I'm complaining or anything, but…." The car halts under the broken street lamp, and as I open the door he extends his arm.

"You can have this copy," Scott says with a smile. "One day, dude... just one day I'm going to prove to you. Deep down inside, Ryan Benger, you are homophobic." I snort, glancing down at the snapshot taken moments ago, my face in utter shock, his lips against my cheek—though not intentionally placed there—and Luke's fingers randomly sticking out from the edge of the picture.

Homophobic? Me? As if.

- fin -
(for now)

Great start, guys. Thanks to all my reviewers! More reviews are appreciated; tell me what you think of this so far!

- Zak -