Author's Notes:

-I am not against Gays. If you are, then I suggest you just leave right now. Thank you.


"Kevin, you are absolutely HORRIBLE at driving." Dave muttered, holding George safely in his palm. He looked rather green. So did George.

"Sorry." I said, my face flooding red in embarrassment. Dave rolled his eyes in mock-annoyance before hopping out of the car, still holding George.

I love the Olive Garden. It's like, you know those waiter guys? They have like, the most amazingly luscious hair ever! Besides mine, of course. And no. I am not all gay around EVERY guy. So of course I made Davie wait until one of those nice-haired waiters came around to seat us. He didn't mind much, besides giving a snort in response.

"What would you like to drink... Sirs." The waiter gives us a look. You know, the look. When someone suspects you're like, 'more than friends'. It doesn't annoy Dave or I in the slightest.

"I want a pink lemonade and-"

"Sprite for him, and Coke for me." Dave cut me off. I hate when he does this, but it's just SO cute. Besides, I sort of do want Sprite, now that he mentioned it.

"Of course. I'll be right back." The waiter murmured awkwardly.

Dave shot him a glare of annoyance, followed shortly by, "What? Is there something wrong, mister?"

The waiter shook his head quickly, "Nothing. Nothing wrong at all." He departed quickly, leaving Dave to huff and puff with just me.

"You don't have to like, do that Davie. I'm all used to it!" I said cheerfully. Dave really does care to much. I mean, I've gone through this for at LEAST nineteen years. It's not all bad when you get used to it.

"You're a pushover." Dave snorted.

"Am not!" I pouted, my bottom lip going out childishly.

"Kevin, go to the car. I forgot my calculator." He said, flashing me a knowing smirk.

"Uh- okay!" I hopped up, only to be thrown back down by Dave's strong arm. Oh. That was a test, wasn't it?

"See?" I love it when Dave gets that silly victory grin on his face.

I pouted even more, crossing my arms. Dave chuckled a bit before imitating my position.

"So me and Clara were thinking and-"

"C-Clara, now?" My small smile dropped into a frown and my brow scrunched up.

Clara was by-far the most horrid person I'd ever met. When she was around, Dave had to talk to her. I was left in the dust with only George. Once, I even caught her trying to throw my security blanket away because she thought it was getting more attention out of Dave than her. What a meanie-pants. I frowned even more. Although we're super best friends AND Dave uses proper hygiene techniques, he isn't... Like me. He's like, straight as a ruler. I'm as straight as a circle.

"Yes, Kevin. Come on, this involves you as well." Dave said strictly. He knows I don't like Clara, and it's probably the only thing we fight about.

"Fine." I huffed in a very un-Kevin like manner.

"Her uncle owns this nice hospital and she's already hooked me up to get a job. It pays well and everything, but..."

"But what?" My frown drops so low, I'm afraid it'll drop off my face.

"It's in New York." Dave absentmindedly fiddled with his fork, twirling it in his fingers.

"So?" I clenched my jaw.

"Clara said that... You shouldn't come." Dave looked away, avoiding the look of pure shock and hurt on my face.

That little sneak! I knew she was trying to steal Dave away! Now I'll never see him again and I'll be all alone, and then I'll get beaten up on the streets, and- and-

"Listen, Kevin. It's for good reasons." Dave cooed, cutting off my thoughts. I forced the tears to keep their home inside my eyes. I was NOT going to lose my mascara finisher on this.

"Good reasons...?" I choked out. What good reason would you have to abandon your super best friend and go to New York?

"Yes. New York is notorious for gay-bashing. I just want you to be safe." Dave explained calmly. He doesn't even look regretful. Jerk. "I've already saved up two months worth of rent in a separate bank account for you."

"I don't care!" My voice is cracked and super-un-fabulous.

"Kevin..." Dave placed a calming hand on my shoulder.

"You're supposed to be my Super-Best-Friend! Super best friends don't abandon each other so they can go to New York and start a new life!" I yelled angrily, clawing at my jacket with my pink nails. Pity, they got the nicest manicure just a few days ago.

"I'm not-"

"Have fun walking home, Dave!" I screamed. Dave scrunched his brow as I stood up, and left.

I stepped in the car and jammed the keys in, immediately muting the Brittany Spears music when it blasted through the speakers. I don't want to listen to your screwed up Circus at this time, Brit! Smashing my pink converse-laced shoes on the gas, I drove out with the squealing of tires reverberating in my ears. I think my mascara dripped off. But that's the least of my problems. Once I was on the road long enough to settle down, I grabbed for George, who was sitting in the cup holder, and-

Jesus Tap-Dancing Christ, Dave still has George!