"Lovino?" Feliciano asked with trepidation, as if he were treading on eggshells. He approached me from behind, where I was sitting slumped on the front porch. It was a late August afternoon. As the temperature cooled and neighbors stirred from their 3 PM lethargy, I remained drained and cranky.

I swallowed heavily and closed my eyes so that all I saw was a warm orange – the sun was particularly bright and sunny today, even as it prepared to set. The dark humour in me would have laughed at this if I had the energy.

I didn't respond in the hopes that Feliciano would read the atmosphere for once and leave me to my resigned misery. I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, let alone him.

"Lovino?" Feliciano repeated.

I bit my lip. "Not now, Feli. I'm busy," I said sourly.

"Too busy to say goodbye to–?"

"–What part of 'not now' do you not understand?" I interrupted. Feliciano sighed.

I bit my lip this time. "…Just do me a favor and piss off somewhere else. I don't need you to come in here and tell me to do what's right. I've made my decision."

Feliciano held onto the doorframe, rocking on his heels. Usually, my temper would have spooked him by now. I'll give him credit where it was deserved. Gentle-natured and kind as he was, he had still inherited the stubbornness that characterized us Vargases.

"Then why are you watching him?" Feliciano countered. "If you really made the decision not to say goodbye, then you wouldn't be out here at all."

"Maybe I'm just enjoying the weather. Did you ever think of that?" I said, eyes still closed. I was coming close to pinching my nose.

Feliciano made a ticking sound, like a mother who knew that what they were hearing from their child was a lie. "I know you don't like me butting into things–"

"–Damn right, I don't!" I scoffed. I grumpily opened my eyes. It was too late to salvage any sense of peace at this point. We had gone back to the foray of volcanic eruptions that was my personal life.

"Lovino, that's enough! I'm not leaving you alone this time. I'm tired of doing that. I'm tired of fighting over everything," Feliciano raised his voice. I half turned around and was met with an unusually sharp expression. Feliciano's lips were pressed into a thin line.

I briefly established eye contact with him but had to look away. It was unnerving to see his eyes narrowed at me like that. Yes, I was a disappointment in the family, but Feliciano had an annoying naive habit of maintaining faith and bringing out the best in people. To see him look at me with such scorn cut me down a lot more than I would have liked to admit.

I didn't say anything again. Feliciano took this as his cue to continue. "It's painful to see you like this, Lovi," he said, his voice taking on a softer tone. "You should at least say goodbye. I said goodbye."

"What does you saying goodbye have to do with anything?" I asked, bored and reluctant to hear what he had to say next. "Why does everything always have to be about you?"

"You didn't let me finish, again. You're putting words in my mouth and I don't appreciate it," Feliciano retorted, on the narrow cusp of getting impatient. "What I was going to say is that h e asked about you."

I love you Lovino, I always have.

I held my breath and strained not to show a physical reaction to this, even though it made a whole wave of emotions stir uncomfortably in my stomach. I suddenly felt nauseous. I hated it, but I was more compelled to listen now that he had mentioned him.

"You're both too stubborn for your own good. You two may not have ended on a good note, but I think that you at least owe each other a goodbye. You'll regret it if you don't, especially after everything you've been through with him. There was more to your relationship than it being all bad you know," Feliciano said pityingly, bringing a hand on my shoulder.

I was too numb to shrug away. "What you're asking me to do is a lot harder than what you make it sound. He fucked me up real bad. I don't want to relive it," I shuddered.

"You won't stop reliving it until you resolve things. That's why I'm saying that you should say goodbye to him…to Antonio." Wow. He had finally been so bold as to mention his name, a mix of both guts and nerve.

Just hearing the name Antonio made my knees weak. I strained to keep my voice firm and even, hiding the fact that my eyes were now watering. "I guess so," I admitted. "Damn, Feli. You're so irritating. I feel like I'm speaking to an old man. You're 16, you're not supposed to be this wise."

Feliciano chuckled lightly and removed his hand from my shoulder. "And you're 18. I shouldn't have to lecture you and yet here I am."

"Yep, you ruined the moment, you smug little bastard," I cussed, making a shooing motion at him. "You said what you needed to. I'll think about it, okay? Now leave me alone."

"Well, that turned out better than I expected," Feliciano remarked. "I think I may have actually gotten through to you," he said as he began to close the front door. "We may not get along most of the time, but believe it or not, I hate seeing you like this. Please, "he paused, "please consider what I said."

"Yeah, yeah," I waved him off, dismissively. "Don't you have packing to do too?"

It felt like everyone was leaving after this summer. Feliciano to art school for his last two years of high school, and him…elsewhere.

Feliciano smirked knowingly. "Yes, I still have lots to do. Oh, and good luck."

My silence must have been enough for Feliciano as the door carefully swung shut behind me. I straightened my shoulders and looked up.

"'Good luck', what an arrogant thing to say," I muttered to myself. "'I hate seeing you like this'," I mocked again. "What a load of processed shit. If you weren't my brother I would have already bashed your face in."

Several kids from the neighborhood passed by on bicycles and scooters, occupying the middle of the streets without a care in the world. It's not like anyone living in Wynwood were expected to be role model parents anyway. Mothers hid away in their homes and let their kids roam free. Fathers worked all day and were almost never heard of for one-third of the families here. Instead, kids parented each other. The problem is that many of these kids grew up to be rotten.

An easy scapegoat for our fucked-up family lives would be the constant buzz and radiation of the hydroelectric plants nearby. Apparently, they made people angry and more erratic, not to mention cancerous later in life.

No one who stayed in this neighborhood ended up right. You either became a drug dealer or a nobody high school drop-out. I was bordering on the two. I suppose that's why I was so bitter. I was stuck here. There was no way out for me because I didn't have a work ethic like Feliciano. Feliciano's stubborn, but he's more resilient than I am. He worked to get out of here and everyone knew that he would be going somewhere, anywhere but here. And then there's him, who's also leaving…

"OI!" I shouted from the porch. "Get off the middle of the road! You're going to get hit by a car!" To emphasize my point, I smacked my left fist against my right palm.

"Sorry, Lovino~!"

"You better be," I growled. "You should know better too! Older bad kids go racing around this time of the day." Several kids winced at my harsh tone. All I cared about was that my message was loud and clear.

The sound of bells and training wheels soon faded away in the direction of the park. Rather than silence, there was still the faint buzzing of electricity. On instinct, I had almost convinced myself that a certain someone was humming across the street. Then I realized that their humming had stopped for months now. There was nothing to be happy about.

Antonio was leaving Wynwood too, and like a hopeless loser, I was silently watching him as he flitted about in his front driveway, packing boxes of his belongings into the back of his dad's truck. He was especially klutzy and nervous today, likely because I had shown my face in open daylight after our 'break-up' in June, if you could even call it that.

Most of my summer had been spent avoiding him, wasting my days inside sleeping and going out at night at the park to relax and smoke a few joints with other kids our age. He had come by to the house a few times, but I didn't answer. Not after what he had done.

It had been so long since I had detached myself from him, and looking at him now reminded me how hideously attractive he was for a person as stupid as him. It had always been an inside joke that the strange curl sticking out from the side of my head had a gravitational pull for all things stupid and negative. Antonio had always liked that about me…my curl…pulling it even though he knew full well that it pissed me off.

You haven't always loved me. If you did, you wouldn't be doing this. You're leaving me again, just like you always do.

Still, I needed to see him before he left. Watching him would have been a good enough goodbye if Feliciano hadn't just pulled a Biblical moment of wisdom on me.

CRASH!

I jumped up in surprise when Bella, the paper girl, cycled past and threw a paper at the front door. She had thrown hard to get my attention and had stopped right by the edge of the curb in front of the driveway.

Reluctantly, I met her scolding jade eyes. All she had to do was point at Antonio, whose head was thankfully turned away, for me to understand what she wanted me to do.

I raised my hands in surrender. "All right, all right, I'll talk to him," I mouthed. It was best not to piss her off. She becomes scary when she's angry.

Bella nodded with a sense of importance, but not before giving me a back-and-forth 'I'm watching you' hand gesture. She peddled off, slower than she needed to, and only really left until I had stood up.

WHOOSH!

My eyebrows furrowed with disdain as I whipped my head back to spot Feliciano and Grandpa spying on me through the living room window. There weren't quite fast enough.

Sheepishly, Grandpa waved me forward, as if to say 'go on'. Feliciano smiled nervously.

I rolled my eyes and opened the front door. "You're lucky you're on disability, you nosy old fart," I called out. "You too Feliciano. Mind your own business."

"We're just making sure that things turn out alright, Lovi," Feliciano said, no doubt pouting.

"I can take care of myself," I snapped. "God, are you two ever overbearing."

I didn't give them a chance to respond as I had already slammed the front door. The only positive out of this was that I was now charged enough to confront, I mean, say something, to Antonio. I inhaled, raked a hand through my hair, tousled it a little, and then stomped across the street in my sandals. I know, I know, intimidating, right?

Upon reaching his driveway, I slowed and waited for him to look up. Antonio was bent over the front seat of his dad's truck, butt hanging out. He appeared to be searching for something.

"Ahem," I cleared my throat.

"Ack!" Antonio spluttered and flew up, only to whack his head against the ceiling of the truck. "Ay, ay ay," he whimpered in pain as he straightened, grabbing at the back of his head with his right hand. When his green eyes locked with mine, his cheeks reddened. His lips moved but nothing came out.

I probably looked the same. My eyes felt like they were going to fall out with the way that they were bulging. Antonio had tanned considerably since I had last seen him. Droplets of sweat dripped down his neck and stained the front of the red muscle shirt he was wearing. His brown curls fell at his shoulders, also damp, and still as messy and unbrushed. He'd always been lean, being an athlete, but I couldn't help but notice that he had gotten thinner.

"…Hey," I said, near incoherently. My lips were pretty much glued together and my tongue refused to remain any semblance of coordination.

"Lovino," Antonio murmured, rough with emotion.

"Can I…um?" I gestured with my hand.

"Yes, yes, of course!" Antonio waved me onto the driveway. I pretended not to notice that he had accidentally slammed his hand against the truck.

Carefully, I took a step onto the driveway. Hurt flickered in his eyes. I had pretty much lived at his house for the past eighteen years. To ask for permission now cemented my status as an outsider.

We stared at each other for a minute, unsure of what to say. We were only a few feet away and yet I couldn't bring myself to close the distance. The awkwardness became too much to handle, so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"You're leaving," I pointed out, hollowly.

"Yeah," Antonio answered robotically. "I am."

I couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you want to, maybe, go for a walk?" I proposed.

"Yeah," Antonio answered again, breathless. "Just give me a minute, okay?" He hadn't recovered from the shock of me coming here. It hurt, but I could tell that he had been expecting to leave without me saying goodbye. That was another thing about him that we fought about a lot; he didn't hold a lot of faith in me. Meanwhile, I held all my faith in him. It was more than unfair. It was cruel.

Antonio pulled out a set of keys from the pocket of his jeans shorts and locked the truck after shutting the driver's door. He had been walking around the driveway without any shoes or socks – another habit that used to drive me crazy. Despite how neutral I tried to remain, the annoyance on my face must have been as plain as day.

Antonio wordlessly went into the house to grab a pair of flip-flops before meeting me at the edge of the driveway.

"Where to?" he asked.

I didn't establish eye contact, looking ahead instead. "I was thinking about the bus stop."

"Sounds good."

Bile rose in my throat. I hated being so stiff and formal with him. It was sickening.

Silently, we headed for the bus stop. I felt Antonio's longing eyes on me the whole time, which irritated me. He had no right to stare like that, not after how disposedly he had treated me. I settled for staring at his arms, fixated on the wristwatch he wore. I hadn't yet worked up the courage to say anything.

When we reached the bus stop at the end of the street, I immediately went for our spot. Right by the street sign that read Wynwood, there was a large granite stone that children often climbed up to sit on as they waited for the bus. It was surrounded by a bush, which had made it the perfect hiding spot/ place to talk.

Antonio hesitantly stood beside the rock, like a squirrel who had second feelings about crossing the road. I had nearly forgotten that he was several inches taller than me. He seemed even larger now that I was terrified of him and what he had to say.

I sighed. "Sit," I ordered. It was about time that one of us grew a damn pair.

Wordlessly, Antonio hopped up on the rock and settled next to me. I inhaled and stared across the road at the park. Memories of us throwing pinecones at passing cars and then hiding in the bushes as our angry targets circled the block several times to find us delinquents crossed my mind. It almost caused me to smirk, almost.

"So, you're really leaving, huh?" I asked.

Antonio tensed up beside me. "You could be leaving too," he said blankly.

"Antonio," I inhaled sharply. The conversation had already gone downhill. Thirty seconds hadn't even passed.

"No, Lovino," Antonio turned to look at me. I didn't reciprocate. "This time you're going to listen to me instead of cutting me off every time I say something that you don't like. You could be going to university now too, but instead you chose to flunk out. I may have done many wrong things to you, but this is one thing that I'm not going to stand down and take. You're here because you chose to be. You didn't care about your grades. You were too busy smoking dope and ditching class."

"That was a cheap shot and you know it, Toni!" I raised my voice. Without thinking, I flashed my gaze onto Antonio. Both of our eyes were burning. I balled my fists and resisted the urge to wipe off the arrogant sternness on his face. He wasn't being fair, again.

Antonio stared at me. There was no kindness in his expression, only hardness and disappointment.

My throat throbbed with a newly-formed lump. "What do you want me to say? That I was a hopeless self-loathing loser who hated living in his brother's shadow? Because if so, then you'd be right. But I'm not like that anymore. I've told you that already! I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself. If you would have bothered to check in with me you would have known that I've signed up for school in September. I'm redoing my senior year."

"That's great, Lovino, but I know for a fact that you haven't quit smoking pot and Feliciano tells me that you still steal from them to fund your habits. And what about Alfred? You're still hanging out with that jackass. He's not a good influence on you, and I don't like him," Antonio retorted. "You're not reliable; I don't believe you. All you do is rely on others to fulfill your own selfish gain."

"Screw you!" I spat. "You have a lot of nerve coming here to lecture me after everything that you did. All you do is criticize me. Why does me smoking matter so much anyway?! Oh, and just so you know, I haven't stolen from them since June. We sat down and had a talk, and I've agreed to pay them back with all the money I've made this summer by helping Bella's brother."

"Helping Bella's brother by what, dealing?" Antonio said disbelievingly. "Honestly, do you even listen to yourself? There's nothing wrong with smoking occasionally. The problem with you is that you have no self-control. It became the center of your life. You didn't attend classes and were always asking for money. The only thing that mattered to you was getting high and blowing off those who cared about you. You were living in your own world, and I got sick of it."

"You've got some damn nerve, I'll give you that. No matter what I do, you find something to pull on me and make me feel shitty about myself. Alfred's been there for me when you weren't. I don't smoke as much as I used to either. But why would you care? I'm never good enough for you."

"That's not true, Lovino."

"Don't you take words from my mouth! I know I'm not the cookie-cutter person that you want me to be, but I was always loyal to you. You say that I live in my own world? Who was there for you when you got injured, huh? Who was there when you felt like there was no reason to live? I helped you get back on your feet."

Antonio wavered. "That you did, and I'm very grateful for it."

I blinked, taking a moment to recollect myself. That was a cheap shot on my part. Two years ago, Antonio had been actively scouted by professional football leagues in Europe. After he had broken his ankle, he didn't play the same and was forced to retire. He had taken a year off to recover and work through his depression over it. I had been right there by his side for the whole time.

"Look," Antonio began again. "I don't want to fight with you. I can't anymore. Do you realize how difficult it was to love someone who you can't trust? I told you that I didn't like where you were heading. I told you that the losers you hang around were going to cause you to flunk out. You didn't listen. You all share the same mentality: angry and bitter without ever putting in the work to change your circumstances."

I scoffed. "You know full well that I treated you differently than the others. I loved you too. That's why I promised to change. You weren't patient enough. I tried to quit smoking, but it's hard. I'm anxious all the time, okay?"

"That still doesn't excuse stealing from your family. Take some responsibility for your actions for once," Antonio replied without a beat.

"You're just embarrassed by me," I accused, defensively. I wasn't really helping myself at this point.

"I'm not. I'm just disappointed. You're more than capable of getting good grades, Lovino. I've seen you when you're passionate about something. So maybe you were serious about me. But what about yourself? Life? School? Did you expect me to wait for you forever? To have unlimited patience? How could I take you seriously when you weren't serious about yourself? You lack passion, and you don't apply yourself."

I saw red. "Didn't I just say that I'm going to school?"

"You've said a lot of things in the past. You're good at telling people what they want to hear," Antonio's stated coldly.

"Like what?"

"That you would quit smoking and stop hanging out with Alfred."

"And we're back to that again!" I exploded. "Why does it matter that I hang out with him? Are you jealous or something?"

Antonio's nostrils flared. I had picked up on something. Knowing him, though, he would be too stubborn to admit it. "No. You're better than this and it's just frustrating that you can't see that. That's why I had to let you go. It was too much."

"Fine, I see your point," I said, feeling my face warm. "Can I say mine now?"

"By all means," Antonio waved his hand. Perhaps it was because I was mad, but it came off as smug. I was being infantilized by him, again.

"I'm disappointed in you too, and it's not just because you abandoned me."

"I didn't abandon you," Antonio protested.

"You did, now shut up and let me speak. You've had your say." I waited until I was sure that Antonio wasn't going to interrupt me. I could tell that he was fuming on the inside. Many buttons had already been pushed.

"You're a hypocrite and sell-out, Toni. You come here and spout garbage about me having no passion in life? What about you? You can't honestly tell me that you're passionate about teaching…teaching!...

…I looked up to you. You were one of the few people in this godforsaken area that remained happy and hopeful about life no matter what. The accident changed you; there's no spark, nothing. I'm not the only one who's lost passion. At least I'm real and honest with myself about it. I don't pretend that I'm perfect either."

"What else was I supposed to do?" Antonio snarled, slamming his hand against the stone. I flinched. "I had to do something with my life. I wasn't just going to sit on my ass and mope around. I'm trying to forge a new path for myself. I don't want to be stuck in this…this dump forever."

"Figures why you dumped me too," I muttered bitterly.

"I didn't dump you out of the blue. You had that coming to you for a long time. There was only so much that I could do to help. You were letting go of yourself. I'm not going to be held hostage by you anymore. I've earned my leave."

Each accusation squeezed at my chest.

"No. You're just like me. You're impatient. I helped you, and you couldn't even return the favor. I was trying to get on the right track but you breaking things off threw me the fuck off. Now…now you're leaving again."

"Maybe I am impatient. Maybe I have done many wrong things to you. But I'm not the only one to blame. You're still not taking any responsibility," Antonio harshly interceded, repeating himself like a broken record.

"You kept promising, Lovino," he stopped to correct himself, softening his tone. "Lovi. We talked about this, about us going to uni together once I recovered. What ever happened to that?"

"I couldn't handle seeing you so depressed," I admitted. "It was hard to see you lose everything, your passion in life, only to commit yourself to something that you weren't passionate about. It broke me, and I needed to get rid of the stress. I guess this isn't a good excuse, but it's all I have to offer. Take it or leave it. It just sucks because I thought you were passionate about me. I couldn't have been any more wrong."

"I am passionate about you! Don't say such things!" Antonio said, exasperated. He looked like he had aged ten years during the span of this conversation.

"No, you're not. If you were, you wouldn't have given up on me. I would have been able to handle you leaving for uni. We would have worked something out. I would have worked harder. Heck, I was more than willing to work harder. You were the one who gave up because you were too busy focusing on yourself. Change isn't a one-shot thing. You didn't give me the benefit of the doubt. You…you didn't trust me."

"That's not true!" Antonio echoed.

"It is and you know it! Keep justifying what you did so you can look good in front of others, but you won't ever look good in my opinion. I won't let you have that. Leave and start a new life for all I care. You're too good for us now, too self-absorbed."

"Lovino, that's enough."

I wasn't going to stop now.

"You say that I'm good at telling people what they want to hear? How about I change things up a bit and do the reverse? You and your fancy scholarship and your phony ass smile can go to hell. You're not the same person I once loved. There's nothing authentic about you anymore. In fact, the only thing that you can't fake is your stupidity. Fuck, I've never seen someone so disconnected from reality. Why don't you step into someone else's shoes for once?"

Antonio's mouth parted. "I didn't know that you felt that way. Or that you smoked more because of me. I told you…what I'm doing now…I'm making a life for myself."

"And if it's good, I won't be in it," I countered.

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Antonio bellowed. "God, you know that's not true. There's nothing more that I want than for you to graduate high school and make something out of yourself. I know you can. Did you ever consider that you've been selfish too? You stole from your own family and have lied to them AND me several times. You're not the innocent martyr that you play yourself out to be. You expect everything to be done for you for nothing in return."

"When did I ever say I was a martyr? You never listen to me. I've owned up to most of my mistakes and I'm working on them. I'm cleaning up come the beginning of the school year, for real this time. I know I can do better too."

"I want to believe that, I do," Antonio said, contemplating heavily over his next words. "If that's the case, then I wish you the best of luck." There was no heart in what he was saying. It felt too scripted.

I rubbed at my eyes. Of all times, now I had to cry. "Fuck," I swallowed. "You're so stupid. I had been telling you this all along. Our fight would have never happened if you hadn't been so oblivious."

"I'm sorry. I know I played a part in it, but I can't wholeheartedly agree. You say that you want to change, but you haven't really. You've always blamed me. I'm not going to be your scapegoat and punching bag anymore. You need to understand that."

"Well, I don't want to. Everything that comes out of your mouth is fake."

"I'm not fake!" Antonio objected. I had pushed another button and wasted no time in latching onto it.

"Yes, you are. Sometimes I wonder if any of what we shared was ever real."

"Of course, it was real! I love you, Lovino. I always have!"

Tears poured down my face. "You don't. Stop lying to me. I don't know why I came here expecting anything. It was a waste of time. You're a fucking emotionless automaton. I can't tell you anything."

"We're not children. Grow up already," Antonio fumed. "You always blow things out of proportion."

I didn't respond. It took his blockhead a solid minute before he realized that I was crying.

"Lovino," Antonio chided. "Sweetheart, look at me."

He moved to place an arm around my shoulder but I shrugged away as if I had just been jolted with a current of electricity. "Don't call me sweetheart. You've lost that privilege. Only Antonio can call me that, and you're not him."

Stung, Antonio retracted his arm. "I'm still me. If you can't see that you're part of the problem then that's not my problem. I'm sorry but it's true." He reached into his shorts to hand me a tissue. I grabbed it with more force than necessary.

"Bullshit. You're lying through your teeth like some self-important prick. It's a shame that all that passion went away. I was rooting for you but you turned out just like everyone else. Keh, what a phony," I sniffled, dabbing at my cheeks. The tears had stopped but things were far from over.

"You're the one who's lying," Antonio blurted out. "I still have passion for you."

Wide-eyed, I looked up to reach his eyes. Briefly, I saw a flicker of the boy I had once loved, the boy who I would have killed for.

"You don't."

"I do," Antonio's eyes flared as he bent down to press his lips against mine. Whirring, I pulled back but was quickly overwhelmed. I grabbed onto the rock for balance as Antonio held the back of my head, one fist tightly knotted in my hair. He had always admired it for its auburn color, especially when it became streaked with red underneath the sun.

His tongue presumptuously poked into my mouth as I gasped for breath.

"Who lacks passion now?" Antonio growled.

"Nnnn…" I croaked, fingers trembling. Memories of our entire relationship flashed before me, from scar-kneed adventurous toddlers, to lanky pre-teens, to now where it remained unclear and foggy if we would ever resolve our conflicted feelings for each other. How many times had we made-out in this same place?

Strange, isn't it? How nothing about this felt familiar when it should have. It felt wrong.

"NO!" I refused and brusquely pushed Antonio away.

In shame, Antonio put some more distance between us and looked at his feet. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I shouldn't have done that. If I would have known–"

"–Don't be sorry," I said and hopped off the rock. "You just made things crystal clear for me. I was always just someone for you to fuck around with. Nothing about that kiss felt authentic. You don't love me anymore."

Antonio didn't raise his head. "I can see now that nothing I say will get through to you. Think what you want about me."

"Phony bastard."

Angrily, I stormed off.

Antonio didn't chase after me.

He had said it himself. I wasn't his problem to deal with anymore.

…

One week later…

…

"Lovino?" Grandpa knocked on my door, poking his head into the bedroom. "Antonio's at the door for you. Should I say that you're not here?"

I flopped onto my back, resigned in a prostrated position on the bed. "Nah, tell him the truth. I don't want to see him."

Grandpa sighed, brows furrowed. He was like an older version of me, except old, more handsome, more muscular, and with unnecessary gray stubble on his face. He wouldn't shave it off no matter what I told him. Apparently, he had a 'lady friend' across that street that he wanted to impress.

"What happened to your foot?" Grandpa asked, amber eyes resting to the bandage over the big toe on my left foot.

"I tripped over Feli's luggage. He left it right in front of my door. Idi…ah, never mind."

Grandpa lifted his stern expression. "I see. I'll tell him to clear his things. So, are you sure? About Antonio I mean?"

"Yep. Get rid of him," I answered matter-of-factly. I was done crying over someone who didn't feel the same way, someone who didn't accept me for my faults. None of my improvements mattered to him. I wasn't the delinquent I used to be a few months ago.

"Okay, done. Dinner will be ready in an hour. And no, you're not going to eat up in your room again. This is one of the last chances we'll get to eat as a family until Christmas," Grandpa lectured. That's right. Antonio left next week, and Feliciano in three days.

"Mhmmm," I said, peeling at a loose piece of skin on my finger.

"Lovino, I know you've never picked up a book in your life, but you can appropriate a better response than that."

"Sorry, I'm not Feliciano," I huffed. "I don't read as a hobby. I go out and have a life. Big whoop."

Resigned, Grandpa left.

"For fuck's sake! Is it really so hard to close the door after you open it?!"

"Mhmmm," Grandpa trilled smugly.

I opened my mouth in retort, but quickly closed it when I realized that Antonio would have been able to hear me. Shamelessly, I scuttled over to the bedroom window and rested my head at the far corner. My bedroom was located just above the front porch, so I would be able to eavesdrop without any problem…that is if my phone hadn't begun to ring.

Alfred was calling me. Hissing, I put it on silent.

The conversation must have ended quickly because, by the time I looked outside again, Antonio was already walking over to his house.

My phone rang again, this time with a text. Unsurprisingly, it was from Antonio.

"I know it may seem like I don't love you but I do. You have to understand that I'm doing what's best for me… I had hoped that breaking up with you would have given you the wake-up call you needed. Maybe it's best that things ended this way. It's not too late for you to start fresh, Lovi. I sincerely hope that you're going to do what you said this time."

"THAT BASTARD!" I screamed. Obviously, screaming loud enough for the entire neighborhood wasn't enough for me. I stalked over to the window, made sure that Antonio had turned around, and promptly shut the curtains on his shitstain face. Unsatisfied, I then re-opened the curtains, slammed the window, yelped when I slammed it on my fingers, and then re-slammed the window.

Out of breath, I slumped against the nearest wall.

I stood there for what had felt like hours, too anxious and drained to move.

BRING!

My phone lit up with a new text. It was from Alfred, asking if I wanted to meet up with them. Without any conscious thought, I typed yes and hit reply.

I waited until I was sure that Feliciano and Grandpa were busy moving stuff into the garage before I snuck out through Feliciano's bedroom window and into the backyard.

…

I found Alfred and Heracles lurking like imperious alley cats near the dumpsters behind their apartment building. They had both been kicked out of their houses for a few years now and looked the part with their scraggly, scuffed up appearances.

I wasn't surprised that Alfred was wearing a muscle shirt, showing off the fake muscles he had gained from taking steroids, nor was I disappointed to realize that Heracles had already smoked most of the weed.

"Lovino, my dude!" Alfred guffawed. "You look like shit. What the fuck happened to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I muttered.

"Well hell, is it really that bad? How about this then? I know these two chics that we could hook up with. Really easy, ya know? Not super hot or anything, but totally fuckable if you're hammered enough."

"I'm not interested," I waved Alfred off.

"Fine man. Was just tryin' to help," Alfred simpered.

"Here," Heracles offered me his bong. "Take a hit. You could use it."

"Thanks," I grumbled. Everything about this was disgusting and wrong, myself included. Grandpa and Feliciano were probably just coming up to my room now. I could already imagine the disappointed looks on their face.

I don't like being here. This isn't who I am.

Maybe Antonio was right…? Antonio kissing me hadn't felt right, but being here didn't make me feel right either.

After religiously recounting everything he had had to say this past week, I could see why he didn't want me hanging out with people like this. The last thing I wanted was to end up like them in three years, living on welfare and having zero respect for anyone – especially women– who didn't worship the ground at their feet.

I was going to have to change.

I'll show that bastard. I was going to step up my game, for real this time.

I took another hit.

Once summer was over, that is.

…

Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since the school year had started. I was determined to prove Antonio wrong and had attended all my classes. Although, this didn't come without any bumps in the road.

I had quit dealing for Lars, Bella's brother, but had yet to quit smoking. So far, I had begun to wean myself off from it by letting Grandpa handle and control how much I had. He would allot a certain amount every day, and would slowly reduce how much I smoked.

While he didn't want me smoking at all, Grandpa understood that the end goal of me being off pot for good was beneficial in the long run. The man had a lot of patience, especially after all the bullshit I've put him through.

Me quitting was a project that we would work on together. It helped that Feliciano was gone too. I loved him, I really did, but I had always felt short and inadequate in his presence. Without him, I felt freer to go at my own pace and to not be so hard on myself if I had a mishap or two.

What I was doing was all tentative anyway. Still, I was stubborn as a motherfucker and would see this through, even if it killed me from the exhaustion and boredom of committing myself to receiving that single piece of paper. I would graduate from high school, damn it.

BRING! My phone buzzed with a new text.

Without hesitation, as I knew that if I looked I would be tempted, I threw my phone onto the bed. It was pointless because I already who it was. I wanted nothing to do with Heracles or Alfred anymore. On another note, I really did need to find a new hobby that would help blow off some steam, or, at the very least, distract me.

It was days like this where I felt even more anxious than usual. The old me would have smoked non-stop. Unfortunately, I had already used up all that I could smoke today and didn't want to ask Grandpa for more. Progress reports had just been distributed, and I couldn't have been anymore nervous. No, I felt nauseous. I had given the envelope to Grandpa without bothering to open it.

After years of hardly showing up to school, everyone's stares and whispers had caused me to lose my cool several times. Combine that with the crankiness over needing a smoke, and you can see my dilemma.

Progress reports weren't tangible grades or anything. Instead, they involved the teacher commenting on how you were doing in the class, such as how your participation, your initiative, your engagement, and how well you got along with others. Eager, question-asking nerds would receive excellents, average students would receive goods, sub-par dim-headed students who had no clue what was going on but were well-behaved would receive satisfactories, and students like me, who talked back and never did their homework would receive need improvements.

Just thinking about it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. To compensate, I popped two pieces of gum into my mouth – another habit I had adopted to help quit smoking –and decided to watch a video or two to help ease my mind. Grandpa would be coming up soon with the results.

With a loud plop, I sat at my desk and opened my laptop, both of which had been hand-me-downs from Feliciano. You would think it would be the opposite with me being the older sibling, but Feliciano had gotten a new set of everything as a congratulations for getting accepted into art school.

Mindlessly, I opened Facebook and began scrolling through the feed, fingers tapping against the wooden surface of the desk in impatient and uncomfortable agitation. One thing caught my eye, although I wish it hadn't.

I had been avoiding looking at the Frosh Week photos Antonio posted, but this one stuck out like a scalding red target.

He was at a party, tanned cheeks pink and flushed from booze with his arms casually slung around two girls wearing bikinis. All three held up the pearl necklaces around their necks as if they were some sort of prize.

Hurt, I closed the laptop.

Why hadn't he ever smiled that big for me?

I reopened the laptop and inhaled sharply, willing myself not to lose my temper.

"Don't think negatively," I told myself in a murmur. The words filtered out of my mouth numbly, perhaps even a bit robotically. "It's not going to help. Focus on what you want. You'll prove him wrong. He's not worth it."

Two seconds passed.

"FUCK!" Angrily, I stood up and grabbed the nearest thing to me, a pencil case, and threw it against the wall.

How dare he. Did what we shared together mean nothing to him? How could he? How could he move on so fast? How he could he live and be happy after everything that had happened? I was right. How vain. How cruel…how…how emotionless.

"You selfish bastard," I hissed, clenching and unclenching my fists.

"I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!" I whispered in an angry mantra, only to reseat myself and glance at the photo again.

"You fucking phony!" I screamed at the photo. At least now, phony photo Antonio couldn't retaliate or argue back with me. I could say whatever I wanted.

I was just surprised that Grandpa hadn't come up yet.

"You liar! You…you cheater! I…I..."

I'm tired of this.

Resigned, I closed my mouth and looked to the side of the screen. When that didn't help, I refreshed the page.

An unwanted advertisement popped up.

"The fuck, is the government spying on me or something?" I whispered. Right there on the front page was a video about the Law of Attraction and Attaining Success. And here I thought Alfred was a psycho for believing in conspiracy theories. The lunatic even went so far as to place a piece of tape over his webcam, as he was convinced that all technological devices were used to spy on and listen to people's conversations.

Agh! Enough about Alfred! Thinking about him wouldn't help either.

Perhaps it was fate or a mere coincidence, but I needed to be distracted by something, anything, so I clicked on the video.

A tall man with spiky blond hair, startling blue eyes, and a cocksure, crooked smile appeared on a podium, speaking into a microphone. He walked with a noticeable prowl to his step, acting as if he owned the stage at his feet. It looked to be a lecture of some sorts.

"Welcome, all. The name's Matthias Kohler. Most of you know me as the CEO of_. I'm _ years old and have just recently _. I worked hard to get where I am and let me tell you am I ever glad that I make _."

Irritated, I tuned out most of what the guy had to say. I wasn't interested in his life story. What I wanted to know was how he got to where he was. I could have used some inspiration, even from a jerk like him.

"…People ask me this all the time: 'Matthias, how did you get to this point in your life? What motivated you to get off your lazy arse and work? You see, I used to be unmotivated. I procrastinated like you wouldn't believe and expected everything to be handed to me. I lived in a world of entitlement. But then, as I grew older, being a useless 30-something living in their parents' basement wasn't satisfying. I felt empty and wanted to do something, to make a life for myself.

"The only obstacle was that I was terrified of failure. It was all I thought about. I told my therapist this and you know what the wise old geezer said? Well, for one thing, he told me to stop using so much hairspray. In his opinion, I was one spray away from causing the icecaps to melt … that was a joke, you can all laugh," Matthias chuckled, his large smile faltering slightly when he didn't provoke the response he wanted.

Matthias whistled, rocking on the balls of his feet. "Whoo! Tough crowd, tough crowd, eh?"

I stared blankly at the screen.

"Anyways, as I was saying," Matthias continued. "My therapist, Berwald, or Bear as I called him because he looked like one, told me to restructure my thinking. Being negative gets you nowhere in life. If you think negatively, you attract negative things in your life! Simple, right!?"

"Wrong. I called Berwald a loon and was banned from seeing him for two weeks. I was quite stubborn then and had a large chip on my shoulder. Still, I secretly heard Bear out and listened to what he said. He told me to think about what I wanted in life, even if I didn't have it. So, I did. I figured that it couldn't hurt to dream. And slow as it was, it worked.

"Every night for six months, I told myself, Matthias, you're going to find a job, then a partner, and in two years' time you'll be able to move out on your own and sustain yourself. Surely enough, six months later, I met Lukas, my husband, or owner as I like to call him…that was another joke. Geez! Loosen up a little, you guys. Heck, I'm smiling and I just had Botox!"

The crowd laughed in pity. Matthias gratefully accepted this, allowing the reaction to channel more vigor into his story-telling. He cracked an even larger smile.

"After moving out with Lu, I started setting bigger goals. I wanted to own a business, a house, and a car. We lived in a ratty apartment at the time. Even if it didn't work out, it was still nice to imagine. Positive thoughts = positive outcomes, that's the motto that I ran by.

"Again, surely enough, after working hard and dreaming for five years, my positive outcome was reached. I own one of the most successful toy companies in the world, I own a mansion just large enough to house my own ego, and I own not one, but three cars! Berwald, that emotionless bastard, was right! He helped propel me forward in life. I owe everything to him…"

The video drowned out. I had heard everything that I needed to hear.

"Huh," I huffed. "Emotionless bastard, all right," I said and clicked off the video. I wasn't speaking about Berwald.

"Huh," I repeated. I hadn't expected the video to move me the way that it did. Regardless of the fact that it was probably fake, I wanted something new to latch onto.

"Positive thoughts = positive outcomes," I whispered to myself, ruminating over the concept.

It couldn't hurt to dream.

"Why not?"

I reached over the desk to grab the hairband Bella had given to me. It had been a long time since I had last cut my hair and it was getting to the point of being shaggy. I needed something to keep the bangs out of my face as I studied.

Calmly, I pulled out the agenda I had bought for the year and opened it to the first page. I was still a work in progress, remember?

There, I wrote down some goals of my own that I wanted to achieve.

- Stick it to Antonio and prove him wrong – Spite and smite the bastard until he comes back begging for you.

- Graduate high school.

- Quit smoking

- Get along better with Grandpa and Feliciano.

"What are you doing, Toma?" Grandpa knocked on the bedroom door. Toma was a nickname I had received when I was younger. Apparently, I loved tomatoes so much that I would eat them until I got sick and my stomach bloated to three times its size. I still loved and consumed tomatoes en masse, by the way.

I jumped and turned in my seat. "Just…uh…I got an agenda."

Grandpa smirked. "I know. We bought that for you last week. I'm glad to see you using it."

"You look nervous," he observed. My eyes were focused only on the folded bundles of papers he held in his hand.

"Of course I am!" I snapped. "Well, get it over with already. Tell me how much I suck at life."

Grandpa entered the room and sat on the edge of my bed. Skittishly, I fidgeted in my seat before settling for staring at a bolt in the corner of the desk.

"Now, Lovino," Grandpa started.

"Oh fuck, here we go," I wailed.

"I'm very disappointed.."

"…"

"…that you didn't have more confidence in yourself! Congratulations!" Grandpa beamed. "You got three goods and one satisfactory!"

I paled. "You old fart, I swear to God if you're lying to me right now I'm going to–"

"Oh, give me that!" I said and snatched the paper. I didn't believe what I was seeing. What he had said was true.

"F-fuck," I stammered. Grandpa gently took the progress report, cradling it to his chest as if it were a newborn.

"As I was saying," he cleared his throat. "You've improved considerably and I'm very proud of you. From what I read, they say that you attend your classes and even participate from time-to-time. That's what I want to hear. The only thing that I'd like you to work on is that one of your teachers isn't happy with your attitude. I thought we discussed that you wouldn't talk back anymore."

"Grandpa. If you dealt with that woman, you'd talk back too. She drives me nuts and is nuts."

"Is she single?"

"Grandpa!" I shuddered. "No! I know your standards are low and you're an old fuck who's lived past his glory days but this really toes the line! Mrs. Isaac is a she-demon. Trust me, you'd want nothing to do with her. I still have hearing damage from her last screeching lecture…okay, okay!" I interceded. "I'll try my best to behave myself but no promises."

Grandpa laughed. He had never been fazed by my insults. "Good, I'm glad. No promises on my end either," he winked.

"GRANDPA!"

"All right, all right," Grandpa pouted. "I get lonely sometimes."

"Yeah, that's why every girl within a ten-mile radius avoids you. You reek of desperation."

"Enough," Grandpa said, attempting to be stern but failing miserably. "I'll have you know that I could get any girl if I wanted to."

"Sure you can," I smirked, patronizingly.

"Hmmmph!"

"So," Grandpa pursed his lips. "Since you've been so good for the last little while, I wouldn't mind giving you a little extra something…" he trailed off.

I understood exactly what he was getting at. "No, fuck no. I'm not smoking anymore today." All the excitement had done a well enough job at getting rid of my anxiety.

Grandpa smiled again, wider. It was enough to make me smile. "Look at you," he crooned and reached over to pat my head. Angrily and smile already gone, I swatted at him. If I was a cat, my shackles would have been raised.

"So, have you given any thought as to what you want to do after high school?" he asked me.

"I haven't even graduated high school yet?"

"Yes, but aren't you going to apply to college or university? Applications begin in the winter, no?"

"You…really think I'm capable of doing that?"

"Of course I do, Toma. You're stubborn, but if you're really committed to something, you don't give up. You get that from me. I was just like you when I was your age. Ah~! What a different time it was then. I had all the girls and good food I wanted at the snap of a finger."

"You were also a drug dealer," I pointed out.

"That I was. That's why I want to help. I didn't want to tell you this until I knew that you were ready, but there's a college fund waiting for you too."

Stunned, I blinked. Five years ago, he got gotten into a construction accident that had permanently messed up his back. Since then we had been living off his disability paychecks.

"Wha…" I gaped. "We're always struggling to pay the bills, you jackass! We could have really used that money. Wait, have you paid hydro this month?"

"No," Grandpa said firmly. "It's for you."

I fell silent.

"You'd make a good teacher, you know that?" Grandpa said after a couple minutes had passed.

"Huh?"

"You heard me, I've seen you with the neighborhood kids. They really like you."

"I'm just looking out for them," I replied. "I'm probably not the best role model anyway."

"But you are," Grandpa argued. "You don't have to play football with them, but you do. You didn't have to give them your old clothes, but you did. You're in your element with kids. It's something I've noticed for a long time now. Even when you were in your worst phase, you were always so calm and patient with them. You're a good kid, Lovino, even though you haven't made the best decisions in the past."

"I know," I said, head bowed. "I've said this a million times before, but I'm sorry for lying and always stealing from you. You had a lot on your plate, and it was really shitty of me to do."

"Don't apologize. Just continue with what you're doing. That's all I ask."

I blushed.

Grandpa stood up from the bed. "Well, I'll leave you be. It looks like you've got a big year with all the studying you have to do. Do try to consider what I said. You really would make a wonderful teacher."

I stuck a finger in front of my mouth and pretended to gag. "Error. Error. Lovino has short-circuited from too much praise. He needs a good hour and a decent meal before he's able to function properly."

Grandpa shook his head at me and laughed. "Dinner will be ready soon."

I nodded. "I'll…join you."

"I'd really like that."

When Grandpa left, I opened my agenda and wrote down another set of goals:

- Think more positively.

- Become a teacher (?)

Who knows. The fact that I wasn't opposed to the idea of becoming a teacher, especially because Antonio also aspired to be one, must have meant something.

I just didn't know what at the time.

"Yeah, my anger really is a problem. I'll also have to work on that," I said and scribbled down said goal.

…

Three months later

…

"Lovino!" Feliciano scolded, smacking at my hand as I made a grab for another sugar cookie from a tin on the kitchen counter. "You know those are Grandpa's favourite!"

"All the more reason to eat them!" I smirked and proceeded to plop three more sugar cookies, slowly, into my mouth. With Feliciano back home again for the holidays, I was banned from teasing Grandpa so much. Little did he know that we shared a great relationship now, even if we drove each other crazy, especially Grandpa.

Feliciano crossed his arms and made his best attempt at a scowl. It wasn't a very good one. "How heartless of you."

I shrugged, mouth still full. "Eh."

"Are you going out too?" I asked him.

Feliciano clutched at his scarf. "Yes, I have many more presents to buy if you must know!" he puffed up his chest with a sense of importance. I wasn't buying it. There was something off about him.

Nervously, Feliciano sensed my skepticism and decided to change the subject. He fluttered to the other end of the kitchen and reached into the plastic holder that kept all our bills and important papers.

"A teacher, huh?" He said as he plucked out the sheet detailing the top three universities I had chosen.

"Yeah, why?" I asked defensively, already feeling my cheeks begin to boil. "What about it? Do you think that I'm not going to follow through with it?"

"No! No! Of course not!" Feliciano blurted out apologetically. "I'm just so happy and…surprised. Seeing you, and then Grandpa…I'm just really proud of you okay?! I know we don't get along very well and I get on your nerves and annoy you and you don't like being compared to me but good for you, Lovino! I knew you had this in you, and I can't wait until you get accepted!"

I sighed. Feliciano had a habit of saying everything that was on his mind when he was nervous. Awkwardly, I walked over to pat him on the shoulder. "Uh, I'm not really good at this but thanks. I'm proud of you too. I heard that you're kicking ass in your studio. Keep it up?" I phrased that last part more as a question, wanting to punch myself because of how cliché it sounded.

Feliciano's eyes widened into beach balls. "Thank you, Lovi!"

"ACK!" I squirmed uncomfortably as Feliciano pulled me into a vise-grip hug. "Relax! Relax! Jesus! And how do you know that I'll get accepted? There's no guarantee!"

"Gasp!" Feliciano giggled. "Grandpa told me that you were on this positivity cleanse. Don't lose it now! Who knows, maybe I'll join you, ah, in this spiritual journey."

"Look, I know you're my brother but that was cringey as fuck," I winced. Feliciano faltered. "Uh, cringey in a good way," I haphazardly corrected and scratched the back of my head. "You're right. I have a lot to look forward to and be happy about. There's no point in focusing on the negative."

I wasn't the best conversationalist as you can probably tell. Feliciano knew this too.

Feliciano's face lit up again. "I'm glad."

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Is Grandpa back from the store already?" I furrowed my brows.

Feliciano faltered and his eyes flicked back and forth nervously.

"Feli," I began, reading into his tensed-up posture. "Who's there?"

"Well, I better get going now," Feliciano shrugged away from me and set off toward the door.

My heart stopped. "Feli, you did not!" I knew Feliciano had already visited and caught up with him, but I didn't think that he would ever dare to take things this far.

Feliciano refused to look at me as I followed him out of the kitchen and into the front hallway.

"I'm sorry, but you two need to talk to each other."

"I–!"

"–and not just on Facebook!" Feliciano interrupted.

"I'm not doing this," I protested. "This is my business, not yours. You can't just–"

Feliciano shrugged on his coat and grabbed the doorknob. Time froze. "–Too bad, I am. This is tough love, Lovi. It may suck now, but you'll be glad that I did this later…" he trailed off vaguely and then ripped open the door–and my heart– in one fell swoop.

"Antonio!" Feliciano trilled. "You're just in time! I was just leaving for some errands. See you two later!"

Nearly tripping over himself, Feliciano skirted around Antonio and hopped down the porch. The kid could run, but I was just as fast as him. I would find him and I would kill him; that is, if I survived what was about to unravel here.

Uncertain, Antonio stood on the front mat, gloved hands carrying an old tin box. His cheekbones looked thinner – not in a defined way either, but rather, deprived. There was a daunting look in his green eyes that I didn't recognize. The only thing familiar about him was the same messy brown curls that stuck up in all directions, looking windswept in an atmosphere as airless as space.

"Hello, Lovino," he greeted stiffly. "May I…?"

"Yes, of course. Um, hi," I welcomed him into the house, glancing at his feet as I shut the front door. This is the first time we had verbally spoken to each other in months. Aside from the occasional "hi how are you" texts, we hadn't bothered to Skype or call each other.

This whole scene was overwhelming. I thought that I had healed, but seeing him now had caused the broken seams of my composure to display themselves. I had forgotten how vulnerable I was when I was with him.

"I brought Turrón," Antonio murmured as he handed me the tin box.

"Thank you." I took the tin box and placed it in the fridge while Antonio hung up his coat and took off his shoes.

He met me in the kitchen and whistled hollowly. "You've been really busy," he commented.

I straightened and shut the fridge. "In…?"

"You know," Antonio's eyes focused anywhere but me. "In school, or so I've heard."

I crossed my arms. "I told you," I said simply. The venom was all in my eyes.

"You did," Antonio said plainly. The shame revealed itself in how he kept fidgeting with his hands, fumbling with the buttons on the cuffs of the burgundy dress shirt he wore.

"Look," I cut in. "I have a lot of stuff to do, so if you want to catch up, let's go into my room. I want to wrap Feli's presents while he's gone."

"Sounds good."

We walked up to my room. On instinct, Antonio sat at the foot of the bed, crossed-legged on the ground because he had always been this weird, while I began pulling out wrapping paper from the closet.

"Congratulations on your grades, by the way," Antonio began again. "I think it's wonderful what you've accomplished."

I grit my teeth. Everything that came out of him sounded so fake and rehearsed.

"Yeah, well, I've been studying my ass off," I replied. "How about you? I've noticed on your Instagram that you've been to a lot of parties, with a lot of girls. You must be really passionate about your grades," I finished sarcastically.

Antonio smiled, but it didn't reach his face. He was clearly agitated by my comment. "Only at the beginning of the year. I had a lot to catch up on in the last two months to make up for it, but I pulled through. I'm, eheh," he chuckled nervously, "not keen on committing myself to anyone just yet other than the occasional fling."

Well, that was extremely bold of him to admit. "I know," I retorted, eyes burning.

Antonio avoided eye contact and was quick to deflect from himself. This wasn't a conversation. It was a masquerade of jabs and insults masked by social pleasantries. "What about you? You and Bella seem to be pretty close lately. You've been to a few parties too, haven't you?"

"We have, but only to hang out and see friends. I don't do anything…I don't smoke or drink or any of that stupid shit anymore. I stopped."

Antonio's expression lightened. "I know, Feliciano told me. It's really amazing how much of a 180 you've made these last few months, Lovino. I'm honestly very proud of you. I'm sure you've heard this before, but you've earned it. You've proved us all wrong."

Nonplussed, I muttered a basic thank you.

The house shook as Grandpa entered the front door.

There was still something off about Antonio, but I couldn't quite place it.

"I have to go to the washroom," I said abruptly. "I'll be back."

In the washroom, I stared blankly at myself in the mirror, unbelieving that this was really happening. The emotions that I felt were real and raw. What sucked was that the person I felt them for didn't reciprocate. There was nothing real about him other than the fact that he was here.

I must have stood there for several minutes before leaving and dazedly entering the upstairs hallway. On cue, as if he had been waiting for me, Grandpa met my gaze at the bottom of the stairs and gave me a knowing look. That confirmed it. He and Feliciano both had planned this whole shebang.

"I'm here if you need me," Grandpa mouthed, albeit sheepishly. I gestured something profane at him.

"Tsk!" Grandpa hissed. "Show some manners."

"Sorry," I whispered. "My bad." I smiled angrily and stuck up my middle finger.

Grandpa shook his head in defeat and retreated downstairs. I inhaled deeply and set off toward my bedroom, only to pause when I heard the rusty click of my closet being opened.

"What the?" I murmured and approached the bedroom door, peeking into the crack. The sound of a drawer being snapped open confirmed it

Antonio was searching my room for drugs. He still didn't trust me.

Furious, I quietly opened the bedroom door and softly let it click behind me. I stood there, watching as Antonio proceeded to check under my mattress, back still turned to me.

It was only when I cleared my throat and he turned around that tears began pouring down my face.

"You have a lot of nerve," I whispered, trembling and teeth chattering against each other. My knees felt weak and the room began to spin. It took a lot of effort to remain my composure. I couldn't shout because I didn't want to bring Grandpa into this.

Startled, Antonio whipped around and nearly banged his head in the process. He clumsily got to his feet. His green eyes widened before looking away in humiliation.

"Lovi, I–!"

"–Save it!" I spat. "If I didn't realize this before then I sure as hell am 100% convinced now. You're an asshole."

Antonio didn't say anything. Instead, he let out a hasty breath. He knew I was in the right here. For the first time, he was letting me say my piece. I wasn't going to be indoctrinated by his negative opinions anymore.

"I did this all for you," I continued, now sobbing. "I quit for you. I attended school for you. I'm going to university because of you. Why is it that no matter what I do you still don't trust me? Everything I do is wrong to you. I can never win."

I was beginning to see now that I wasn't the only one who had told lies in our relationship.

Antonio moved forward. "That's not true!" he protested – lied. "Lovino, you have to understand. What you were like before…it's just hard to believe," he back-peddled. It's not that I don't believe in you, I just needed to–"

"–If you really believed in me, then you wouldn't have done this. You wouldn't have invaded my privacy. You have no right to be in my life anymore. You're a trespasser."

"Just go," I waved my hand at him. "You spouted all this bullshit about how I don't work hard enough in school, and yet, you're shit at working at relationships. I'm tired of it. Go fuck all the girls you want, see if I care. It's easy for you. Maybe I am difficult to deal with, but this really proves how shitty of a person you are."

Antonio's temper spiked. "So what if I had a little fun and let loose? I deserved it after working for months to get into the program of my dreams. I didn't owe you anything after years of waiting for you to change."

"I have changed. How can you not see that?" I should have ended it there, but I didn't.

"You're lying," Antonio snapped. "I saw Alfred the other day. He told me how much you've been out on the weekends."

"Yeah, what about it?!" I exploded. "I work all week, and balance it with breaks. And newsflash! Alfred's unreliable. I haven't talked to him in months. He's just bitter that I've stopped being friends with him. How could you possibly trust him over me?"

Antonio didn't have much of a rebuttal for this. He inhaled sharply and raised his voice. The old me would have shrunk down and swallowed everything he said. This wasn't the case anymore. I had learned how to look after myself and that included thinking for myself.

My gut instinct turned out to be spot-on.

"You know what?" Antonio seethed. "You were right. I still don't trust you. I was a fool to think that we would be turn out to be something more. It was nice while it lasted, but I guess fucking around was all we were ever meant to be. You haven't changed at all. You're still the whiny entitled brat that I broke off with three months ago."

The tears stopped. It was unnatural how calm I was. "At least you're finally being honest with me."

Antonio left after that.

Numbly, I sat at my desk, unreactive to the angry thumps down the staircase as Antonio left the house.

Anxiety rose up in my chest, something I hadn't felt in a long time. On instinct, I grabbed my agenda and began scribbling. I needed direction, organization, something other than the chaos that had just been unfairly pulled on me.

Positive thoughts = positive outcomes.

I didn't want my life to be like this.

Antonio, that bastard, was right. It was time to grow up. However, to do that, I needed to cut him out of my life.

The pen rocked slightly before resuming a smooth, structured glide against the sheet of paper.

- Do things for yourself, not Antonio.

- Prove yourself right.

- Stop attracting negativity and stupidity in your life.

- Think more positively.

Knock! Knock!

"Toma?" Grandpa asked softly. I tensed. My back was still turned to him. He didn't bother to ask me if I was okay. He already knew the answer. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I turned to him and tears immediately began pouring down my cheeks.

"Oh Toma," Grandpa cooed. "Come, here. It's all right. You're all right. Shhhh."

"I hate him," I sobbed.

Grandpa sighed, conflicted. "You and I both know that's not true."

"I know," I shuddered, gripping onto him tightly. "That's my problem."

"It won't be if I go over there and murder him."

"GRANDPA!"

"…Fine…"

…

Three months later

…

Spring Break.

It had been three months since I had cut him loose, no messages, nothing. I didn't feel anything for him and my family respected that. I didn't bring him up and they didn't either. Besides, I had a lot more going on my life to divert my time and energy to.

"I don't want to look at it!" I wailed, covering my eyes.

Bella sighed, waving the envelop that dictated the rest of my life with ease. "Oh hush," she scolded, crossing her arms as she leaned against the kitchen counter. A creak from upstairs told me that Grandpa hadn't listened and was hovering above in the upstairs hallway.

"There's no reason to be worried. You did fine, trust me," she reassured.

I gave Bella a critical up and down onceover. "You opened it, didn't you?" I accused.

Bella blushed. "N-no! I just shook it up a little until I was able to catch a glance through the laminated part. Just look at it," she smiled. "You'll like what you see, promise."

"Bella!" I snapped. "You can't do that, it's illegal."

"JUST OPEN IT ALREADY!" Bella and Grandpa shouted, exasperated from the suspension. I'm pretty sure I also heard Feliciano chime in. Grandpa probably had him on speaker.

"Fine!" I huffed and snatched the envelop from Bella. Irritated at having the moment ruined, I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the bundle of papers.

All I needed to see was a congratulations before I collapsed into a chair, cheeks flushed.

"I did it," I said. "I fucking did it."

The excitement set in as I stood up and read the bottom paragraph of the acceptance letter.

Mr. Lovino Vargas,

Congratulations. We are pleased to inform you that you have received an offer of admission for the Honours program with a Specialization in Education. We are looking forward to seeing you in September.

Welcome to the University of _!

Grandpa and Feliciano erupted in cheers.

"I think you mean, we fucking did it," Bella giggled, pulling out her own letter of acceptance. She had applied to the same university, except she was taking economics.

My smile grew wider. We would both be getting out of this neighborhood.

"Lovino! Agh!" Bella's breath was taken out of her as I scooped her up into my arms, kicked open the front door, and paraded us both down the street in a full sprint. Nothing could stop me, sorry, us, now.

"We're getting out of here, we're really getting out of here!" I shouted.

We laughed and hooted, ignoring the confused looks of our neighbors. Some kids joined in just for the sake of it.

HONK!

I moved us to the side of the road and set Bella on her feet. "We won't be getting out of here if you keep being reckless like that," she scolded.

"Fuck me! I'm just excited, all right!? I have every right to. From now on, they'll be no more bad in our life. We'll make lives for ourselves. We'll get out of here and never look back."

I turned, and immediately burst out laughing when I spotted Grandpa standing at the front door in his bathrobe. He looked like a disgruntled suburban mom who hadn't had her morning dose of Xanax.

"Okay," I conceded. "I think I can warrant a visit or two on occasion."

"Lovino," Grandpa pouted.

"I'm coming, you old fart. Hang on."

I then did something that I hadn't done in fifteen years. I sprinted toward Grandpa and brought him into a hug, accidentally headbutting him in the process.

Four years of undergrad and then another three years of teachers' college.

I could do this.

…

Seven years later

…

"I can do this," I said with a forced grin on my face, setting down a box in the front room of my new apartment. "It's not that bad."

The one-bedroom apartment looked more like a hovel than a living space. I would have to call my landlord and give him a piece of my mind. It hadn't been cleaned, nor were the carpets and flooring replaced like he had promised. Three teenagers had lived in here before me – the odorous smell, empty beer cans and smoke stains on the wall were most indicative of that. Thankfully, I wasn't moving in today. I had only been given the key.

Bella bit her lip. "It could use a… bit of work. We'll have to clean it before you move in. I mean, you could always just move in with me. The offer still stands."

"No," I sighed. "You know that I like to pay for my own things." It was one thing if I had been contributing toward the rent. Either way, I liked having my own space.

"I know," Bella smirked. "You've always been so stubborn. It's almost endearing when you're not on the receiving end of it," she teased.

Bella's apartment for the first two months had been paid for by her brother. She's had trouble finding a job. Regardless, she was still pretty high maintenance. Drug money had given her many privileges. It wasn't relying on her brother so much that bothered her, but rather, the money he was using to help her.

I had been lucky in that I had found a job pretty much right away. She was still searching for one.

"What can I say?" I shrugged. "I'll live on Mr. Noodles and peanut butter for a few months, or years if I have to. I'm just starting. I have a job and my own place. What more can I ask for?"

"That's right. Start small and end big," Bella said.

"You're such a baby," I mused, reading right into her. "It's not that bad. You don't have to help me clean if you don't want to. You look like you've just been asked to bathe in a dumpster. Wouldn't want your pretty hands to get all smudged up anyway."

Bella's chest puffed up. "That's what gloves are for! Grossed out as I am, I'm still going to help," she furrowed her brows. "What's that saying of yours again?"

"Which one?" I asked.

"You know," Bella waved her hand. "It's similar to when the going gets tough, you…"

"Ah," I held up a finger. "Instead of letting fear and negativity rule your life, 'Look the devil in the eye and shake his hand.' Adversity has nothing on you if you don't let it. You just have to be patient and stubborn as a motherfucker if you want to succeed."

"Yes! That! We'll do that!" Bella exclaimed.

"That we will. Ugh," I wrinkled my nose. "Let's leave. This place reeks."

Bella had already sought refuge in the outside hallway.

Other than cleaning the apartment, I didn't have many problems to deal with. Like I said, I had a place, and I began my new job as a history teacher in two weeks.

Things were looking good.

…

"He's so good looking!" Several female students cooed.

My tour guide, a young and recently-hired teacher himself, smirked.

"They think you're cute," Mr. Beilschmidt, or rather, Gilbert, chuckled. "That's a good sign. The kids here aren't usually this receptive to newbies. Took me a year and half before they finally warmed up to me. Several pranks later, and we're cool now. Administration hates me for it, though. That's another thing," he mused, still speaking at a mile a minute. He was the type of person who liked the sound of his own voice.

"Watch out for that harpy in the office, Elizabeta," Gilbert warned. "She'll staple your fingers together if you get on her bad side. Trust me," he shuddered, strange red eyes wide and unblinking as he appeared to recall something troublesome.

"Thanks for the advice," I muttered.

When Gilbert wasn't looking, I looked over my shoulder and teasingly raised my eyebrows at the pack of girls watching our every move by their lockers. I had a full smile in place.

"AHHHH~!" The female students squealed.

Gilbert took us in a lap around the bottom floor, teaching me the ins and the outs of where everything was. It was a giant school (more like an industrial complex), easily boasting 1000 students. It was high-end for a public school given that it was located far out in the suburbs. It would be costing me a fortune just to get here every day in gas.

"Well," Gilbert clapped his hands together. "Why don't we show you your floormies?!" This guy had way too much energy. It was ungodly to have his energy this early in the morning.

"Floormies?" I deadpanned.

"You know," Gilbert grinned. "The peeps you'll be teaching next to! Wait, do kids still say peeps these days?"

"They do not," I stated, plainly.

"Yikes, I must be getting old."

"Thirty isn't that old," I pointed out.

WHACK!

My eyes bugged out as Gilbert clapped me on the back. "I have a feeling that we're going to get along just fine, Vargas." He then placed an arm around my shoulders, causing me to slump under the weight of it. Gilbert wasn't tall, but he was considerably built for his size.

I held back a scowl. I just had to get through this one damn tour. I could always ignore him later if needed. I had a feeling that he would be the type of co-worker that drove everyone else nuts. Indeed, he seemed to be nuts himself.

"As I was saying!" Gilbert cut in roughly, quick to divert the subject away from his age. "You'll be teaching in the Social Science wing. I'll be down to the left teaching World Issues, Fran will to be to the right teaching Challenge and Change – a bullshit, useless course if you ask me, ahem– and Tonio will be right across from you teaching Anthropology; he's the boring one of the bunch. Dude hasn't been acquainted with the word fun for years…blah blah blah…another useless fact about myself…blah blah…" his voice droned on and on.

I stared blankly and continued to walk down the hall with Gilbert. I wanted to see my classroom, that's what really mattered to me.

Gilbert took my silence the wrong way. "There's no need to worry, Mr. Vargas, Lovino…Lo, can I call you that–?"

"–No."

Gilbert didn't take no for an answer. "We'll all be chumps in no time, Lo. I have really good gut instincts, and I'm already quite fond of you."

"Mmmm," I replied. I had long stopped listening.

"Shit!" Gilbert jumped, removing his arm from my shoulders.

Perplexed, I turned to him in question. Gilbert's eyes nervously flicked back and forth between his wristwatch and a clock hanging from the ceiling.

Abruptly, he grabbed my arm. "We need to go, now!" he commanded.

"Wait, why? I thought you going to show me my classroom?" I spluttered as Gilbert half-dragged me forward.

"There's no time. The bell's about to ring and I don't know about you, but I'm not about to get caught up in the stampede. Those kids are feral animals when they're hungry. Get between them and their lockers and you're as good as dead."

Next thing I knew, we were running at a full-sprint. A few teachers popped their heads out of their classrooms to scold us for causing a disturbance, but Gilbert paid them no heed.

"In ya go!" Gilbert shoved me forward.

I stumbled forward a few steps before catching my balance and looking up to realize that we were in the staffroom.

I checked my watch. "It's 10:40," I said. "I thought lunch started at 10:50?"

Gilbert burst out laughing. "Oops, sorry," he apologized. "I'm dyslexic, so these kind of things happen sometimes. Well, I'm sure they won't mind if we take an early lunch break. I had a spare this period anyway. Make yourself at home," he heaved, gesturing about the room. "We have microwaves, ovens, and a full fridge stocked with food if you need."

While Gilbert seated himself at a long table in the center of the room, I set about the kitchen and placed my Tupperware filled with pasta into a microwave. It wasn't long before teachers began piling into the room. The haggard and fatigued expressions they wore made it seem like they had just come back from a battlefield.

Gilbert waved me over. "Lo, over here–"

I dropped my Tupperware and stared dead ahead. That couldn't have been him, right? I was just tired and cranky. My mind was playing tricks on me.

They weren't.

There was no replicating the way that his curls stood up in a tornado of mussed up synchrony, nor did anyone have green eyes quite as fluorescent as his.

Antonio was teaching here and went by "Tonio."

When his eyes met mine, originally having looked over to see what had made the crashing sound, his lips parted open. He was older, seven years older to be exact, but he was still very much Antonio. His face and cheekbones were more defined, he wasn't as lanky, and there were lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes from smiling. What was strange is that he looked like he hadn't smiled in years judging by the absence of engagement in his gaze. There was something missing, but I couldn't quite place it. How could I? I hadn't spoken to him at all after our last fight.

"You!" I jabbed my finger at Antonio. He flinched.

Gilbert coughed awkwardly, looking back between the two of us. "Uh, do you two know each other…?" Antonio was frozen in place, staring at me without any subtlety. I wasn't much better, glaring him down as if he were a fresh piece of meat. I was the truck, and he was the deer frozen in the middle of the road.

"You!" I repeated. The room quieted.

Antonio attempted to say something but nothing came out.

I drove forward. "You!" I said again. "Antonio Fernández–shitstain–Carriedo! Screw you and thank you for making me prove your ass wrong. I would have amounted to nothing if you hadn't pushed my ass to do better. I owe a lot of where I am now to you, you douchebag!" I stopped, breathing heavily.

"I'm not the whiny entitled brat that you left anymore. I TOLD YOU, DIDN'T I? That I would make something out of myself? And now look at me, you bastard. Halle-fucking-lujah. You were wrong and I was right! HA! Look at me…what I did…I…I…"

Silence.

I looked around the room. Embarrassed, I recollected myself, blushing. "I…um, please e-excuse me."

Shaking, I went over to pick up my fallen lunch – thankfully it was still intact, and left the staff room. I didn't know where to go, but I sure as hell couldn't have stayed there after pulling what I just did. Way to go Lovino. It's your first day and you probably already just got your ass fired…

Gilbert whooped after me as I left. "Wowee! That guy's got passion! That was freaking awesome!" Younger teachers laughed in agreement, whereas the older ones remained still in a stunned silence.

"You should probably go check on him, Gil."

"You're right, Fran," Gilbert stood up. It was his turn to jab a finger at Antonio, who had yet to move from his position. He had become one with the floor. "You could learn something from him, Tonio, whatever the heck your guys' history is. He's got spunk and takes risks."

"Ay…"

"See, what did I say? BORING!"

…

"Bye Mr. Vargas~!"

The classroom door clicked shut, and I just about collapsed at my desk when I knew that no one could hear me.

"Fuck," I whispered. I had taught for two periods straight, only to come out of it feeling like I had just stood in court for ten hours. "I did it."

I didn't get fired for my earlier stunt either, that was also a bonus.

"Well, let's get the hell out of here." Knowing Bella, she'd be waiting at my apartment door, wanting to know how my first day on the job went.

Nonplussed from the ups and downs I had experienced today, I slowly began gathering my things. I was still jittery and my fingers clumsily knocked over a holder filled with pens.

"Need some help?" Antonio asked.

"AH!" I screamed and jumped back. "DON'T DO THAT YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE TO BE CREPT UP ON!"

I faltered. What I had just said had come out without any filter in place. It was as if we had picked up where we had last left off, rather than me avoiding him for seven years.

Antonio smiled guiltily and scratched the back of his head, nervous. "I know," he said. "I did as well."

I swallowed heavily. I couldn't look at him and instead resorted to focusing on cleaning up the pens.

"So," I began, "You work here?"

"For two years, yes," Antonio answered. "And now you do too… everyone already loves you, so I wouldn't worry about…"

I looked up, lips curled slightly. "…me throwing a fit like a total maniac?" I finished.

"Yes, I mean no!" Antonio protested vehemently, hastily correcting himself. "It was warranted."

I put the last pen in the holder and straightened. Antonio followed.

This time, I met his eyes directly, only to pinpoint what was missing in him. There was no more passion in his gaze. It was like life had taken Antonio's eagerness, sucked it up, only to spout it out again and smother itself across his face into something that would never quite capture his prior vibrant countenance.

"I'm still sorry," I apologized. "That was completely unprofessional of me."

"Don't," Antonio shook his head. "Don't apologize. Not after what I did. I came here to do that."

I let out a deep breath. "I'm listening." We were standing parallel to each other, myself on one side of the desk, and him on the other.

"Ay, you still have that same old look," Antonio murmured. "It burns right into you."

"Get on with it, you bastard," I snapped.

"Right, sorry. I just wanted to say that you were right, about everything pretty much. I didn't want to admit it at the time, although I realize it now. I was selfish to break things off with you like that. You weren't perfect, sure, but anyone could have seen the effort you were making. You were always stubborn like that. It's what made me so jealous of you."

"Me?" I spluttered.

"Yes," Antonio said firmly. "You. You used to say that you admired how I could remain so positive in life, but it was all a farce. But you, you were real. No matter the circumstances, you were able to push through the negative. Meanwhile, all I could do was focus on what I didn't have and lost what really mattered…

"I had my whole life ahead of me, I was going to be a professional soccer player for God's sake. When that was taken from me, I panicked. I fled like a coward and who knows how much pain I caused you. Lovino, words can't describe how sorry I am for doing that to you. It's one of my biggest regrets."

"It's fine," I mumbled.

"No, it's not," Antonio inhaled sharply. "It really isn't, especially with our last fight. You saw right through my bullshit, and I resented you for it. I wanted to start over, except I couldn't get you off my mind. I was supposed to be focusing on my grades but drank and hooked-up to forget about you. I was a hypocrite. I flunked through my whole first semester, you know that?"

"You lied?" I asked, incredulous.

"I did. I didn't want you to think that I was a failure. I also didn't want you to think that I still loved you."

"But you did."

"I did," Antonio repeated. "I really, truly did. It was never really about your friendship with Alfred. I didn't like the way that he looked at you and was insecure that you would leave me for him. I didn't want you to look at me as if I were broken."

"So you had to break me in the process?"

"…" Antonio remained silent.

"I'm sorry," I blinked several times. "Wow, fuck. This is a lot to process. Can I just ask you one thing?"

"Of course, anything," Antonio replied, eyes wide.

"You really didn't see me as someone to fuck around with?"

"No! No! Never!" Antonio waved his hands frantically.

"Okay." I believed him. It's funny how subjective one's own reality can be. You accept it as fact until proven otherwise. And here I thought that I had known him so well.

"I'm sorry too. I was pretty immature about the whole thing. I didn't have to call you all those names and bring up the accident either. Oh, and apology accepted," I reached out to shake hands with Antonio. "The past is the past and I'm more than willing to move on if you are."

Look the devil in the eye and shake his hand.

"Definitely." Antonio clasped my hand in his. The hand shake lasted longer than expected.

"So, how have you been?" I asked.

"All right, I guess," Antonio shrugged. "I don't do much other than teach and go home."

"Yikes, sounds boring."

"It is…" Antonio winced. "I must seem so pathetic to you." I ignored that comment.

I looked down to see spot a pack of cigarettes sticking out from the front pocket of his jeans. "You smoke now?"

"Yeah," Antonio admitted regretfully. "You don't?"

"I haven't since the last time I promised you."

"Oh."

"Well, well, well," I crossed my arms. "The tables have turned, Carriedo."

"Ay," Antonio chuckled. "I think that's enough about me. How have things been with you? How's your family?"

"Good. Feliciano's in Germany. He just opened up a studio there, and Grandpa? He's just old, like really old."

"You're still harsh on him," Antonio laughed.

"It's part of my charm. Brutal honesty."

"Yes, I'm aware," Antonio snorted. "Are you leaving now?"

Silence.

My eyes narrowed.

"Did you just lick your lips at me?" I accused.

Antonio blushed. "N-no?"

"Oh my God, you did."

"I didn't!"

"You SO DID!" I said, exasperated.

"I was just going to ask you if you wanted to walk out of the school together."

"Oh," I snickered. "Honey, hell to the no. Not in your damned dreams and certainly not after what you pulled on me. You haven't earned that yet. You're going to have to do a lot of work before we can become friends again."

A fire ignited in Antonio's eyes. "Fair enough. Just know that I'm a sore loser."

"Trust me, I know," I scoffed. "I have a talent for attracting stupidity."

Antonio grinned smugly. "Are you coming?"

"What part of no, don't you understand? I'll walk myself out, now out," I pointed at the door.

If Antonio was a dog, his before wagging tail would now be plastered between his legs. "Fine, I'll see you tomorrow…Mr. Vargas…"

"That's what I thought, fucker."

Like I said, he hadn't earned anything from me yet.

I smiled, proud of myself. "You're not my problem anymore."

Boy, was I ever wrong.

Satisfied, I pulled out my agenda.

-Work on your relationship with the bastard Antonio

…

Two and a half years later.

…

My entire face twitched.

One lecture. I'd just like to get through one lecture without losing my shit on the idiotic trio that were my 'floormies.'

BANG!

Antonio was on a spare and took this time to annoy the absolute hell out of me.

I sighed. The class remained silent, knowing that now was not the time to test my nerves. "Ahem, as I was saying, the Romans were notorious for their–"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Mr. Vargas, should I shut the door?" Mei asked.

"Yes, just give me a moment." Angrily, I stormed over to my desk, flung open a drawer, pulled out a tennis ball, and hurled it out of the room. I didn't bother to look. It was all done on instinct at this point.

The faded "Ay!" told me that I had hit my mark. I knew exactly where Antonio's desk was located.

"You can shut the door now," I smiled at Mei.

As expected Antonio wasn't done with me just yet.

The lecture continued smoothly for another half hour with no interruptions. Gilbert's shouts as he taught could still be heard through the walls, but everyone was already long used to this.

Alfred raised his hand. "Mr. Vargas, can I go to the washroom?"

I nodded my head. "Sure. Oh, and tell Mr. Carriedo that if he doesn't watch it, I'm going to hammer his thick head to the wall."

"…Okay…" Alfred gave me a strange look before slinking out of the classroom.

When Alfred came back, it was my turn to give him a strange look.

I stopped the lecture again. "What is that?" I asked him.

"What's what?" Alfred asked innocently, too innocently. He was holding a red plastic cup in his hand. He stood cockily in front of the class, trying his best not to laugh.

"The cup in your hand," I stated dryly, on the verge of losing my patience.

"Oh, that. I don't know," Alfred shrugged.

Resigned, I moved on.

Two minutes later, another demon asked to go to the washroom. Unsurprisingly, they too came back with a red plastic cup.

Instead of answering my question, Yong Soo grinned and pranced back to his seat.

The pile of students leaving the classroom and coming back with those same damned cups was becoming uncanny. It was all my undoing, really. I hated saying no to kids.

"Matthew," I just about pleaded. "Not you too."

Matthew avoided eye contact. "Sorry," I'm pretty sure he whispered.

Enough was enough. I wrenched open the classroom door and barged into Antonio's classroom.

The lazy bastard was sprawled over his leather chair, feet arrogantly kicked up on his desk. "Why are you giving my students empty cups?"

Antonio smirked. "Well, I had to get your attention somehow." Leave it to him to come up with a prank as lame and irrational as this.

"I'm teaching, you dumbass!" I hissed in a whisper. "Don't you have anything better or productive to do, like, oh, I don't know, grading the papers that were handed in to you three weeks ago?!"

"…That's not nice, Lovi," Antonio pouted.

"And causing me to get behind on my lecture material isn't?" I retorted and then slapped a hand on his desk.

Antonio met me head on, leaning forward. "What can I say," he mused. "Driving you nuts is my passion. Grading, not so much."

"Fine, whatever. Can you at least explain to me why you used cups of all things?"

"I'm taking over your classroom."

"What?" I deadpanned.

"You know, a cup d'etat."

I turned on my heels. "I'm sorry I asked."

"WAIT, LOVI!"

I slammed Antonio's classroom door shut.

…

SLAM!

Two hours after school ended, I packed up my things and made to leave.

I soon found myself pinned against a row of lockers outside in the hallway. Two red cups rested near both sides of my head. Antonio stood in front of me, a devilish smirk on his face.

"You're still smug about that stupid-ass prank, aren't you?" I sighed. "Let it go, bastard. Let it go."

"Come on," Antonio whined. "It was funny!"

"You're so lame," I rolled my eyes.

"Agreed," Gilbert shouted from his classroom. The freak, albeit insane, was extremely regimented and organized. He normally stayed back for several hours to plan his lessons before going home.

"See," I chuckled. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if we stopped playing hostage."

"Lovinoooo," Antonio whined again. "I'm trying to have a sexy moment here."

"And so we're back to this again," I muttered, looking down. "You don't know when to give up, do you? God, you're stupid."

"You've already said that several times. And of course not. I'll keep trying until I win you back, no matter how many years it takes."

"It's not my problem that you can't handle rejection."

"You're such a hypocrite," Antonio murmured softly, lowering his hands and gracelessly letting the cups fall to the floor with a bang. "You're enjoying this, don't lie."

"What can I say?" I mocked Antonio. "I have a habit of attracting stupidity in my life."

"But what about me? I'm both stupid and attractive. Are you attracted to me?"

I tilted up my chin. "Not exactly what I was getting at, but I'll willing to let it slide. At least you're self-aware."

"So…?" Antonio asked expectantly with bated breath. He must have picked up on the fact that something was different this time. There was a spark where they hadn't been one before.

"Yes, I'm attracted to you," I admitted grudgingly. "Guess that must make me stupid too."

Antonio cocked his head to the side. "Just out of curiosity, what made you finally change your mind?"

"Well, it's not like we haven't fooled around," I pointed out. "Does the equipment room at lunch ring any bells to you?"

"Yes, but you've never admitted to it. You always brush me off. What now, what's different?" Antonio asked eagerly.

A pause.

"Sweetheart?"

I raised myself onto my tippy-toes and brushed my lips against his. "You've proven your honesty to me, stupid. If you've waited this long, then who am I to hold you hostage?"

"Oh," Antonio's cheeks flushed. "Thank you." It wasn't long before Antonio got over his daze to reciprocate and deepen the kiss. Everything about this felt right. The heat of his breath, raking my hand through his muss of curls, his hands on my waist, my hand on his chest…everything. It was raw; real;familiar.

"No problem."

-The End