“It feels weird not spending my afternoons with Oli”, I admitted, wandering around the skate park with Andy. “I mean, he’s got family in for the week which is why we haven’t been hanging out much but-”

“Are you and Oliver together?” Andy asked.

I blinked. “No? Why do you keep asking who I’m dating?”

“You’re just really close to Oli and I haven’t seen you talk to a lot of other people”, Andy said, shuffling along next to me. “Why not?”

“Why would I?” I laughed. “There’s not a lot of people around here who are all too interesting.”

“You never talk about yourself. Oliver talks for you.”

“Is that so wrong?”

“I guess not.”

I sat Andy down on a park bench where we could watch the skateboarders. “I’m really not that interesting”, I stated firmly. Andy’s eyebrows knitted together as he plopped down next to me. “My parents are hippies which is where I got my love for art. I spend pretty much all my time watching serial killer documentaries or playing online games. I don’t know.”

“You’re a Pagan and pretty smart and pretty short”, Andy added.

“Brains are for other people to decide”, I said. “I don’t give myself credit for smarts or ignorance as I don’t want to fall into the self-adhering traps created by saying such things. And don’t fucking call me short!” Andy laughed at that and I did too. “You’re just too fucking tall. I’ll have you know that I’m a very average five five.”

“You’re definitely short”, Andy scoffed. “That’s why you’re wearing platforms.”

“It’s called fah-fah-fashion”, I argued.

“You shout it and you scream it on the dance floor”, he murmured.

I snickered. “Bowie fan?”

“Who the Hell isn’t?”

“Your mom.”

Andy tried holding back a laugh as he adjusted himself. “I’ll have you know, my mom is a very nice woman!” he chuckled.

“Sure she is”, I giggled.

He smirked back. “You should come over”, he suggested. “Then I can prove it. She’s making spaghetti so you should come over for dinner?”

“Oh how romaaantic!” I squealed, squeezing against him. “Thatsh sho cude.”

“Yeah, yeah”, he grinned, standing up. “Are you coming or not?”

“Well, I do like spaghetti”, I shrugged. “Let’s see if your mommy’s as grand as you say.” We walked back to his house, joking about dumb stuff as we made our way. He was normally really awkward around everyone else but by himself, Andy was kind of fun. We reached a cute house, white with black shutters and shingles, that we walked casually inside of. A cute red haired woman greeted us.

“Andrew!” she grinned, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Who’s this?”

“Mom, this is a friend of mine from school. Felix. Felix, this is my mom.”

Mrs. Biersack glowed as she offered me her hand. “It’s nice to meet you ma’am”, I said, hoping to make a good impression. I’d had enough parents of friends dislike me that I had a dire, eternal need for parents (other than my own) to accept me.

“I’m so glad Andy’s already found friends”, she sighed. “Ah, Chris and I were so worried about him when we moved.”

“I’m doing fine, Mom. You met Ashley”, Andy whined. Ew, Ashley.

“But you should have more friends”, Mrs. Biersack said matter-of-factly.

“I’ll go get Dad”, Andy said quickly, pulling away from his mother’s coddling. “Felix, do you want to help Mom with dinner?”

“If she wants it”, I nodded. Mrs. Biersack swatted and said she didn’t need any help but I insisted. “It’s rude for me to not do anything when I’m coming over uninvited”, I explained. “Please.”

“If you have to”, she beamed. I followed her into the kitchen while Andy ran off somewhere. My stomach flipped when I saw she was in fact making spaghetti. Spaghetti with Skyline chili. I loved Skyline but it made me so sick thanks to giving up meat. That had resulted in my body forgetting how to process the stuff which was why it made me so sick. But God damn, Skyline was so good that it was worth throwing up in the bathroom afterwards. While Mrs. Biersack covered four plates in spaghetti, chili, chopped onions, and shredded cheddar, I set up the table. Napkins, forks, plates as she finished preparing them. I even found oyster crackers in their pantry so we could have the real experience.

“You must be Felix!” boomed a voice as a heavy hand fell on my shoulder. Any doubts I had about the impression I would make were wiped away as I turned to face a clean shaven, large man in a Sex Pistols t-shirt. “Good to meet ya. I’m Chris, Andrew’s father.”

“Same”, I replied, grinning. Chris just had a natural gregarious vibe and he’d only just introduced himself to me.

“You didn’t have to get chili”, Andy whispered to me as his parents began talking. “I mean, with your veganism and all-”

“I can give it up for the night”, I hushed. “After all, we all have our guilty pleasures.” As Mrs. Biersack sat at the kitchen table, I followed suit and sat next to Andy. “Thank you for having me on such short notice”, I said quickly.

“Hell, we’re just happy Andy brought a girl home”, Chris laughed. Andy blushed again, that awkward pink colour. We spent the night talking and I told Chris and Mrs. Biersack stories about my parents as they shared their own stories. Mrs. Biersack insisted on showing me Andy’s baby pictures but lucky for him, Chris chose to introduce me to the family’s record collection instead. I followed Andy to his dad’s office where we discussed The Rolling Stones, Tears For Fears, and Joan Osbourne. Their collection was truly mind blowing and was accompanied by a whole book shelf weighed down with biographies and memoirs.

“You can borrow this”, Andy suggested, pulling something down for me. He held out a copy of The Long Hard Road Out of Hell by Marilyn Manson, who I loved despite what gothic elitists felt about him. “You like Manson right? Or is he too-”

“Manson is the second coming of Christ”, I gasped, fingering the book. I flipped through the pages, finding glossy photos, drawings, paintings, short stories and poems tossed into the writing. In the front page was a signature, the book untouched enough that the page still smelled like Sharpie. Oh my crystal ball, Marilyn had been here. “Amazing”, I murmured, checking my phone as it buzzed.

“Who’s that?” Andy wondered.

“Mom”, I shrugged. “She wants me home. I’ll see you tomorrow, huh?”

Before Andy could answer, Chris stepped in. “Andrew, it’s only polite to take the girl home.”

“I’m fine, honest”, I smiled. “My skateboard is right outside and it’s not that far if I cut through the park-”

“Felix, I’m a father”, Chris interrupted. “Andrew, drive the girl home.” I shifted as he handed Andy a set of keys but I made sure to thank Chris and Mrs. Biersack before we left. We climbed into a little Cavalier that made me snicker until Andy gunned the gas.

“Where do you live?” Andy asked.

“In a house. Look, just drive me to the park”, I shrugged.

“Why?”

“Because why do you need to drive me home?” I quipped. It’s not that I had a problem with bringing people over, I just didn’t LIKE having people over.

“It’s fine. Just gimme your address”, Andy urged.

“Nope.”

“Felix.”

“Andy.”

“Please?”

“Andy, pull over.”

“What? Why?”

“Pull over.”

“No, you’re just embarrassed about-”

“Pull over or I will fucking puke in this vehicle.” Andy turned green himself but ripped the car into the park. I bolted out, keeping a hand over my mouth and rushed to a shit little shelter where people liked to hold birthday parties and fundraisers. There was a bathroom and kitchen built into the side of it which I bursted through to get to. Andy followed for some reason I couldn’t fathom as I ripped the toilet seat up and hurled. Stomach acid and pre-chewed spaghetti came up as he patiently pulled my hair into a pony tail. It tasted fucking awful and by the time I had emptied my stomach contents into the smelly porcelain bowl, I had snot and tears dribbling down my face. “Fucking gross”, I grumbled, blowing my nose. “Shit-”

“Felix, are you okay?!” Andy gasped.

“Dude, fine”, I muttered, flushing. I sat on the dirty tile floor and gave myself a moment to breathe. “This is why we don’t give vegans meat”, I chuckled.

“You didn’t have to”, Andy pleaded. “OmiGod, Mom would’ve understood-”

“It tasted good the first time”, I shrugged. “Almost worth.”

“Are you allergic to meat? It was just ground beef. I’m so sorry-”

“Are you a dumbass?” I coughed. “No, I’m not allergic. It’s like anything else. If you don’t ingest milk frequently, your body loses the cells that digest lactose so you get the walking farts when you drink a chocolate milk. It’s like that.”

“That sounds miserable!” Andy exclaimed.

I stared up at him, drying my eyes with toilet paper. “Small price to pay for boycotting the mistreatment of animals in slaughterhouses”, I replied. Eventually, I latched onto his arm and pulled myself up. “God, I still taste it”, I groaned. “Let’s hit a pop machine.” Andy nodded and we walked outside, finding one near the duck pond. I put a couple quarters in to get a Coke. Andy cracked the can for me which I only took a sip of, swishing it around my mouth like Scope before spitting it out on the ground.

“That was wasteful”, Andy laughed.

“That was necessary”, I smiled. “Ugh, whatever. Take me home, Biersack. I need to brush my teeth asap.”

“Why?”

“Stomach acid for one thing”, I stated. “Shit eats at your enamel.”

Before I could take another sip, to actually swallow may I note, Andy engulfed me in a hug. “You’re okay, right? Not sick, not pregnant, not invested with alien parasites-”

“Andy, I’m fine.”

His lips kissed the top of my head which I didn’t mind until I thought about him kissing me the other day. This kid moves fast. Maybe he’s not so genuine. I didn’t like that thought. “I just want to be sure. We can go to a doctor or something if you want? There’s an UrgentCare by La Rosa’s?”

“Andrew.” I pulled away and smirked involuntarily. This was so silly because it wasn’t something to make a big deal about. “I’m perfectly fine. I’ll take a freaking piss test if it’ll make you chill.”

He hugged me again. “Alright. Just don’t eat ground beef again if it’s going to make you sick.”

“But it tasted so freaking good”, I argued. “The first time, not the second time.” Andy made a playfully disgusted face before escorting me back to the car. We rode home in relative quiet, partially because I didn’t want to breathe on him with vomit-and-Coke breath. He parked by the sidewalk in front of my house so I could step out. “Thanks, Biersack”, I said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Andy caught my hand and used it to pull me back in.

“Be careful”, he whispered once my face was dangerously close. There was a bout of prolonged eye contact before he started reaching in. I turned my head, his lips landing on my cheek and I laughed.

“Not with my gross ass puke breath, mate”, I joked. “Have some self respect. See you around, Andy.”

This time, he let me climb out of the car. “Yeah, see you”, he murmured. I shut the door behind me and walked up my porch steps and turned to wave, waiting until he had driven out of sight before I walked inside. If he was going to keep leaning in like that, I was going to have to make a note of not being caught in a surprise kiss.

“That’s not how we make friends”, I muttered to myself.

Notes

Super long chapter. It's kind of sloppy because half of this was written around the time I last updated which was for fucking ever ago.

You can thank Anathema for inspiring me to come back (I know I'm a chronic story abandoner, I've gotten lectured on the 1D site many times D:). By the way, go read Eliza: Ward of Andrew, 2nd Officer of the Night Watch or Succubus if you want like ACTUAL stories (call me hateful but this site seems to lack them). They're by Thema ;P who's the only decent writer I've been able to talk to since Axel and Pockey Cookie. TAKE IT.