10.

I wished my life was a movie.

This would be the part where the montage took place. The protagonists in the movie would randomly know a 'perfect spot' or a 'restaurant they've been going to since they were twelve' and we'd go there.

No, scratch that, in a movie we'd skip from the parking lot straight to bonding underneath the huge Hollywood sign with burgers and suddenly be best friends. Never mind that it was realistically always crawling with people, just like every other big cultural spot in large cities, and we'd end up fined.

I didn't have a destination in mind, and Atticus wasn't making any suggestions. He'd asked where to, and I'd replied I didn't know any places here yet.

With a grunt, he'd started driving anyway.

"Uh," I spoke up as we left the school grounds. "We could get some burgers at one of the burgers drive-through on the road?" I suggested.

Atticus side-eyed me. "That shit is trash. Don't eat trash while you're on the football team."

"Okay...Geez."

I stared out of the window, looking out for other options while we drove. I hardly ever paid attention to where we were going when driving to and from school, and I was seeing all these new roadsigns and landmarks. I had never had a particular interest for landscape painting, because the landscape around me had always been the same old. This was interesting, however. Maybe I could borrow the car sometime. Go to a spot crawling with people and try to sketch it.

"Let's drive home and get some more sandwich—" Atticus started, but I cut him off.

"No, wait! Take that exit!" I called out, pointing at a sign up ahead.

The sign said fresh food. The place was called 'Fresh Foods'. Atticus couldn't complain it was unhealthy this time.

He still looked hesitant as he pulled up the parking lot and followed me inside the road restaurant. I asked if we could eat first just so we'd have a moment to talk.

A few minutes later we were sitting on a bench outside, each with a bio burger and looking incredibly stupid. We were just two guys of which one didn't even accept the presence of the other. There was no insta-bonding or any bonding. My brain was empty. I couldn't think of anything to ask Atticus and I wondered what the hell I was trying to do here. I had a feeling Atticus was wondering the same.

Feeling ridiculous right now was the only thing we had in common. Aside from the student council, being gay, and football. Sort of.

I was used to silence, having lived in Greensboro. The most noise we ever had there was the occasional car passing by. But now I found myself tapping my foot on the concrete and speaking up just so we wouldn't be sitting there quietly.

"I'll be at the football trainin' next time."

"Good," Atticus curtly replied.

"Do you know who'll be our trainer? I know it's not Dad. He's too busy with the varsity team."

"No. But Paul pops in sometimes to look at other teams."

I ran out of questions again. The silence returned, so I distracted myself by taking a bite. The top half of my burger was going cold fast, anyway.

With a quick glance I noted Atticus wasn't eating. He'd hardly taken a bite of his burger yet, while, with his size, I was sure he could eat five quarter pounders in a row if he wanted to.

"Not hungry? I can finish that off for you later," I commented, pointing at his burger.

"Stomach's upset," he replied.

Oh, that made much more sense. So he didn't want to go home because of the brief Jonah/Atticus gossip round, but because he was feeling sick. I wondered why he didn't mention it when I suggested getting food.

"I would've picked a better timin' to get burgers if I knew you were sick," I said. "No wonder ya so quiet."

Atticus snorted. "Yeah."

"And because you kinda hate my guts, of course," I jokingly added.

I was mostly kidding, but why did I keep forgetting Atticus didn't have a sense of humour? He closed up instantly.

"Nah, I don't. I guess I just have a hostile vibe in general, huh?" he bit.

I winced. Crap, Mandy, why would you tell him that part, too?  Against my better judgement, I hoped she had not shared her earlier jealousy theory with other people. She was a very effective public announcer.

"No, no, it's not in general," I tried to save myself. "I mean, I see you talkin' with Corey all the time."

Atticus shifted. "Yeah, but Corey's just Corey."

His face scrunched up for a split second after he spoke. I didn't understand what he meant.

"Well, and I'm just Kade," I simply stated.

"...Yeah."

We finished our burgers.

Well, I finished mine and Atticus ended up packaging his and mumbled something about how he'd eat the rest at the party. I didn't see him anymore after handing out burgers to an extremely grateful Student Council team, however. He ended up giving me his burger and disappeared. Jonah wasn't around anymore either, so I ate his burger, too.

Hours passed. I told a wide-eyed Mandy, who didn't seem to understand the problem, that I didn't appreciate what she did, then danced and chatted with Becky, Kim, and a lot of total strangers who complimented the wall decorations.

I'd expected Atticus to want to go home around ten, but I didn't see him anywhere inside. Around twelve, there was still no sign of Atticus and I sincerely hoped he hadn't secretly left after all. I ran into Corey at the drinks booth while looking for him.

"Hey man!" Corey greeted me, putting an arm around me.

He acted drunk, while I'd only seen him chug Pepsi and water all night. His breath told another story, though. Did they sneak alcohol in here somehow?

"Hey, Corey," I said, deciding to ignore his mini-bar breath aside from slightly leaning away. "Do you know where Atticus went? He's supposed to drive me home... And you're not going to drive yourself home, right?"

"No, no, Dad." Corey laughed. "Got a ride from a sober guy, promise. And I'm not drunk. Just a few beers." He pressed his index finger to his lips. "Shh, don't tell Becky."

I shook my head. "I've learned my lesson... But Atticus hasn't been drinking, has he?"

"No, doubtful," Corey said. "He hates alcohol. And he didn't want to go back because of that thing. I think he's outside. Usually is."

"Where outside?"

Corey gestured in the direction of the sports fields, and that's where I found Atticus doing pull-ups on one of soccer goal bars.

He hadn't noticed me yet. He was grunting with effort, completely focused. I wondered if he'd been here all evening, exercising instead of going back to the party. What Corey meant with 'that thing' was anyone's best guess. This time, I had a good guess, though.

If it was what I think it was, then damn, the I-hate-people-talking-about-me ran really deep. He really hated being talked about. Coming out must've been hell for him last year, in a school with thousands of students while being a varsity jock. Maybe that's where the hate stemmed from.

If I could believe Mandy, he got bullied for a bit for being gay last year. He hated being talked about and ran from it, literally. He didn't talk to many others and stuck to himself, but he still agreed to go along with it every time I tried to reach out.

Blending all the little clues together like this, aside from Jonah's remarks which I still couldn't entirely place, Atticus didn't sound cold and hostile at all. He sounded anxious.

Strange. Why? He could probably break most other students in half like a twig if he tackled them in full gear. His arms were the size of Mandy's head, and that was saying something. Her head had to be awfully bloated for it to be so high up in the air she didn't understand what she did was not okay. I pictured her head like an air balloon, and grinned.

Atticus lowered himself down, and spotted me while I was still grinning about my inside joke. Carefully and briefly, he returned my smile.

"Time to go home?" he asked.

"Yeah! That alright?"

Atticus nodded. He walked towards me with his hands in his pockets. The dim streetlights cast shadows over his face, but it was suddenly like I could see him clearer than ever. Not hostile. Not cold.

Lesson two of the evening learned: I shouldn't stereotype and assume a huge, athletic guy couldn't be anxious.