Venice (bxb)

8. Something About Pans

They were walking down the hallway, almost an hour late to their first periods yet so nonchalant about the truancy. Jason's collar was crumpled from when he haphazardly pulled it on this morning and Venice's tie missing.

            "I can't believe she just left us this morning," he muttered, pulling his bag back on his shoulders. "Bet she was still pissed that we got stoned without her."

           Venice didn't respond. In fact, he was thinking about how grateful he was to be able to drive this morning. Link Riveria, an off-spring of a law enforcement officer, had allowed Jason and Venice to get high with him on sour diesel on his bedroom floor.

            "You know that kid's not completely straight, yeah?"

            "No?" He gulps like a culprit.

            "Did you see the way he was touching you? Like jeez. Maybe he was just high."

            Venice shakes his head, "he wasn't that high."

            "Well, high enough to get touchy. You think if he's high enough he'll do it with a dude?"

           "What if he will?" Venice does not realise that he was coming off as every bit irritated as he felt. "Why do you care?"

            Catching Venice's drift, or rather the subtle accusation, Jason overreacts, "oh, fuck you, Venice. I'm not homophobic. You're allowed to wonder if people are straight or not!"

            "Oh yeah? Well, if you wondered about important shit, you wouldn't be failing simple ass classes in high school," and just as Jason was about to retort, Venice disappeared into the Poli-Sci room, into the comfort of the intellectuals that he deems oh-so worthy of his time.

            "What fucking crawled up his ass today?" Jason curses under his breath as he heads down to Basic Math.

           Twenty minutes into a forty-minute circus about quadratic equations, Jason already feels as lost and as much in need of finding as 𝑥 does. He doodles a swastika into Chris' notebook to scandalize him and checks the time when he realizes that he hadn't in the last five seconds.

           "Staring at the clock isn't going to make time go by faster, Jace." Their seating arrangement is a new one. One that came into place after Beckett invited the trio to sit with them at lunch.

            Also the nickname. Cute.

           "It certainly seems to make it go slower," he argues, peeking into Chris' notebook. He was halfway through what seemed like a very complicated version of the problem sets they were set to do. "Which question is this?"

            Chris stares at his notebook, "the seventh one." Quadratic equations, Jace understands, are not only about maintaining equilibrium but also about the idea of two approaches to the same question and neither being wrong. Maybe Jace didn't belong in Math. Maybe he should be in Philosophy down the hall.

           If it's not STEM or anything hefty in grandeur, the Conigraves didn't value it as much.

            What was Philosophy to a born-criminal than a moral obstacle? How was he going to argue the ethical perspectives of Kant and Marx when he was so deeply involved in arms trafficking that destroyed third-world countries?

           "I don't think I'm supposed to be here."

           "Same," comes Christopher's swift reply as he underlined the final answer. He turned to Jason. "Where would you rather be?"

           "Knee-deep in your mom's pussy."

           Chris tosses him a smile, "my mother has standards, Jason. Very high ones."

           "So do I, Christopher. So do I." He smacks his lips at him, "tell me how awkward it would be to call me Daddy?"

           "Awkward or incredibly hot."

           It was then that Jason started to question the entire group dynamics of that clan. Queer people do tend to find each other and form life-long friendships. The trio did seem like outcasts with how nobody tried to converse with them at lunch and Jason was smitten enough with the idea of wooing Beckett that he hadn't noticed.

           "You're a fatal optimist, Chris."

          "Better to die that way," he looks at Jason's blank page, "really though. Where would you rather be?"

          "Would you judge me if I told you?"

           Chris smiles in a way that creases the laugh lines around his face, "do I look judgemental to you?"

           "Can't help the way you look, buddy. Your future has polo shirts, golf villas and stock broker written all over it. Objectively, speaking."

            He thinks about it and Jason could see Chris roll the words over in his head, slowly nodding, "well, my Dad was a stockbroker and he was a bit of a golfer too, actually. Lots of polos. You might have a point."

            "See," Jace agrees, "was? What's he doing now?"

            "Um, my dad?" He pauses, "he passed away in May, two years ago."

            "I'm so sorry, Chris." Jason's timid, "I pry, don't I?"

             He smiles, nodding, "a little bit, yeah." Chris was joking still, rather he was glad that someone was so fervently asking him about everything. Otherwise, everyone in that school already knew about Chris' dad. And his tragic death.

            "I'm sorry, bro. I'll let you do your work."

            Jason was visibly pulling back. Chris nudged his shoulder, hiding the earnestness in the jibe of his tone, "honestly, I'd rather be bothered by you than have to actually pay attention to this bullshit."

            He snatches a smile out of Jason. "Hmm, you look like you're into it, my guy."

             Chris studies his face, "definitely more into you though."

            Jason's eyes widen when he realizes what Chris had said. A chopped slope on his lips, "bro...I'm straight. Not even like bicurious."

            "Not for long." Chris shoots him a toothy grin before starting the next problem.

            During recess, Jason dishes math class happenings to Venice and Link over chicken tenders.

   Link laughs, "you're officially Chris' 15th victim."

            Jason is hyperventilating, "oh my god."

            "Jason, you done been played, son."

            Venice is waiting to ask how. Why was he laughing? Why was this hilarious?

             "Chris thinks he's James Franco. Like he will lead Hedwig and the Angry Inch in the afternoon and go run for senator in Texas at night."

            Venice squints at him, head pushed back enough to form a double chin. "Man's secure in his masculinity."

            "No doubt, no doubt."

            Jason almost breathes a sigh of relief, "so he's not gay? And he's not hitting on me?"

            Venice giggles in a way that you'd recognize it as a giggle but still damn husky, and it pulls something inside Link's chest. "You sound disappointed, Conigrave." He says in fake concern.

            "Nah," Jace shakes his head, "but like, I would've explored it. Might work for me. Who knows? Gay, straight, something about pans..."

             Venice and Link share a secret look, "yeah, something about pans. Definitely."