PART ONE
Matthew took a deep breath, adjusted his webcam, and with the click of a button the red recording light flickered on. His face appeared on the screen before him, staring back at him with those same dark blue eyes and chin-length blond hair, which he now tried to tuck behind his ears. He pushed up his glasses and nervously cleared his throat.
"The rumors of my promiscuity," he began. "have been greatly exaggerated. I used to be anonymous. Invisible to any potential mates, male or female. If Google Earth were a guy, he couldn't find me even if I was dressed up as a ten-story building. Pretty cutting-edge plot, huh. A dorky, bisexual high school guy, feeling anonymous. 'Who am I, what does it all mean, why am I here?'...Okay, don't worry. This isn't one of those tales. Although, it sure started out that way. And then it changed pretty quickly when I started lying about some very personal things. So."
He grew braver as he continued talking, convinced this was a good idea. Everyone needed to know his story. Matthew nodded confidently at the camera.
"Let the record show that I, Matthew Williams, being of sound mind and...average muscle size, swear to tell the truth. The whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Starting now. And what better way to share my private thoughts than to broadcast them on the internet?" He grinned, grabbing the sign he has made. "So here it is. Part One: The Shudder-Inducing And Cliched, However Totally False Account of How I Lost My Virginity To a Chick in Community College. Let me just begin by saying that there are two sides to every story. And this is my side. The right one."
/
Alfred made a noise of indignation and flailed, accidentally knocking the books out of Matthew's arms. The latter sighed and stooped to pick them up as Alfred whined loudly.
"I mean, Ivanna is not a sexy name," he protested. "That's, like, your grandmother, not the name you want to scream out during climax."
A familiar hand was offered to Matthew as he struggled to stand with an armful of books. The hand belonged to none other than , their kind-hearted and fun - albeit bossy - English teacher. He raised an eyebrow at Alfred as he helped Matthew to his feet.
"And by that, I assume you mean...?"
"The stable and self-perpetuating end stage of the evolution of a plant community," Matthew continued, covering for Alfred's butt yet again. "Why, what were you thinking?"
"The same," replied with a grin. "But I wouldn't say it aloud lest someone get the wrong idea. I think you know that innuendo is attached to everything these days, hm?"
"Innuendo?" Alfred feigned innocence. "Why, Mr.K, whatever do you mean?"
Matthew hit him. Alfred kicked him in reply.
"Matthew, go hit the books. They don't hit back." As if suddenly remembering he was a teacher, Kohler sobered up and pretended to look down upon the students. "Also: hugs not drugs, mess with the bull get the horns, and uh, any other cliches you can come up with."
"Bye, ," Matthew chuckled, watching him walk away and adjusting the books against his chest.
"Bye," echoed Alfred.
"Watch your mouth next time," Matthew insisted upon his best friend, rolling his eyes.
"Sorry," Alfred apologized facetiously, sticking his tongue out.
/
"Mr. Mathias Kohler is my favorite teacher," Matthew reminisced into his webcam. "Although, after all the trouble I caused, I'm not sure if I'm still his favorite student. And right after that incident? That was where the trouble began. The lie that started the whole thing..."
/
"Please. Please," Alfred tugged on Matthew's sleeve, throwing a small fit. "I'm begging you, Mattie, please, I will pay you."
"Al, I'm sorry!" Matthew shrugged noncommitally, swatting his friend from his jacket. "I can't go camping with you, I told you. I have a date."
"Oh? With who?"
"You...don't know her," the other mused.
"And neither do you, you selfish bastard," Alfred sniffled.
Protesting, Matthew hit Alfred and responded: "Yes, I do. She goes to college with my older sister, alright?"
"Oh yeah? What's her name, then?"
/
Matthew twirled a pencil as he tried to find the nicest words to describe his best friend. "Alfred has what you would call...a strong personality. A couple of weeks ago he asked me to come camping with his family, and I don't know why I didn't want to go. A little because I didn't feel like hanging out with him. All weekend. Also his parents are the weirdest people I have ever met. And we live in California. One time I had dinner at his house, and I swore never again. So I lied and told him I couldn't go because I had a date with a friend of my sister, named..."
/
"Ivanna," Alfred repeated. "Let's just face it, there is no such thing as a sexy Ivanna."
"Yeah, well, mine is. So let's just put this conversation to bed."
"Fine. Don't come camping with us. Just know that I hate you, bastard."
Matthew rolled his eyes again. He was such a drama queen.
/
"And so, here's a dissection of how I really spent the weekend. Friday I got a card from my uncle, but it played Pocketful of Sunshine when you opened it which is, easily, the worst song ever. Saturday I brushed Papa's cat and listened to the song because, hey, what else did I have to do? Okay, well, let's just say by Sunday night I was dancing around in my pajamas to a singing card. Which, judge me as you may, is pretty sad. But, on Monday, when Al asked me how my weekend was..."
/
"She was cute. Very ladylike, y'know, classy," Matthew lied as he and Alfred walked down the halls. He couldn't get that godawful song out of his head, though. "She was like, I got a love and I know that it's all mine."
"Right right right, okay, but are you going to see her again dude?" Alfred asked, totally buying it, grinning widely at his friend.
"Oh, well, yeah probably not. It was just one of those weekends."
"A...whole weekend?"
"Yup," Matthew responded, shifting his backpack on his shoulder.
"Whoa. Whoa, wait a minute." Alfred stopped him, pushing his shoulder. "You didn't...?"
"What? No. Oh, no."
"You liar," the other squealed. "Oh my god you totally lost your virginity to her! Aw, dorky lil' Matthew, all grown up-"
"No, Alfred, I didn't-!"
"Yes you did! Tell me everything."
"Alfred, I'm not that kind of guy." He looked his best friend in the eye seriously, raising his eyebrows. Him? A one-night-stand stud? He wasn't sure if he was even straight enough for that. His sexual identity had an asterisk next to it. Bisexual** (with a preference for guys).
"What, the kind of guy who does it, or the kind of guy who does it and then doesn't tell his wingman and best bro, huh?"
"What? C'mon!"
"I want every detail! Right now, bastard!" Alfred insisted, dragging him into the nearby bathroom passive-aggressively, ignoring the looks that they received.
"Al!" he sighed as they came to a halt in front of the sinks. "You call me bastard a lot. It's not really a term of endearment."
"I want every detail, now, fuckhead," Alfred amended.
"You're not heading in the right direction with that one," Matthew mumbled angrily.
"Tell me!" Alfred barked. Yeesh, he could be scary when he wanted to. The other blonde took a deep breath, grimacing.
"Fine! We did it," he snarled, crossing his arms. With those four words he could feel the lie growing bigger and more out of control, but Alfred pumped a fist in the air and cheered.
"Yes! Finally! Now you're a stud like me."
"I don't think letting Lovino give you a blowjob behind a Bed Bath & Beyond qualifies you as a 'stud'," Matthew sulked.
"There were a lot of people walking past, someone could've easily seen," Alfred defended. "Whatever, this isn't about me. This is about you. What'd you let her do?"
"It was, uh, normal." He scratched the back of his head, trying not to meet Alfred's eyes. "Nothing...freaky..."
/
"I don't know why I did it. I guess maybe it was because for the first time in my life, I felt superior to Alfred F. Jones. I just started piling on lie after lie. It was like setting up a game of Jenga."
/
Just at that moment, a strawberry blond appeared from a stall, aggressively washing his hands as he stared down the two boys, discussing Matthew's sexual experience. He was loathsome, from his ironed button-down shirts and cardigans to the freckles that spattered his face. Eventually Alfred slowly turned to meet his eyes, narrowing his own.
"What the hell are you lookin at, Father Christian?"
"Just a couple of admitted bisexual man-sluts," he replied haughtily, turning his nose up and walking out with purpose.
/
Matthew continued his story with a sneer on his face. "Oliver Kirkland is the secretary of the student council, chairman of the Orange Blossom Dance Committee, and president of the Cross Your Heart club- a club dedicated to shoving their beliefs down peoples' throats. Last year's 'cause' was the changing of the school mascot: The Blue Devils. Now, thankfully, we are the much less intimidating...Woodchucks."
/
Matthew and Alfred sat in the stands, watching as a white-haired boy in a furry woodchuck costume appeared, yelling ferociously and wheeling a wheelbarrow of wood in front of him.
"Go Woodchucks!" he screamed, picking up a piece of wood and pretending to gnaw on it. The crowd wasn't buying it, watching him with varying expressions of disbelief and pity for the poor mascot. Alfred leaned over closer to Matthew.
"I liked Gilbert much better when he was topless and painted blue."
"Yeah, but even dressed as a woodchuck I still fantasize about him," the other replied frankly, cocking his head. Alfred laughed and nudged him, nodding.
They shared a look of horror as Gilbert tried to dunk a basketball and fell flat on his face from the hindering costume.
/
"But now," Matthew massaged his temples at the mere memory, finally looking up at the webcam. "Oliver had a new cause: me."