Without love ~ phan

Chapter XI

Dan's POV

Link, Phil, and I are in science together and we have the misfortune of being in that class right now. It's as boring and mind numbing as any class with pages of homework and lectures from teachers who sound like they haven't slept a day in their life.

It's not all bad though. Taking notes when the teacher writes them on the board to copy is easy and even satisfying. My handwriting is tiny and when I fill up a page it ends up looking so organized. Not the obsessive, multi-colored kind of organized, but the fulfilled kind of organized. In seventh grade one of my teachers told me, in front of the whole class, that my handwriting is special, like its own font. It stuck with me I guess, and now it's a nice feeling to write.

Experiments are also a pleasant change in a classroom where the usual objectives are to sit down and be quiet. You can get away with a lot when intellectual commentary from the students around you overrides the nonsense that's coming out of our own mouth. Especially when the teacher only hears what they want to, which isn't rare.

That's why now, while Link and I are adding food dye to test tubes filled with water, is a convenient time to be discussing Tracy. He has taken advantage of my silence to bring up the girl with the forbidden name. I would be angrier at him if that Monday in the detention room wasn't so far away, but it's long past now and more than one nameless person asked me to dance. I might be ignoring the topic all together if it weren't for that stupid spell he cast on me however many Sundays ago.

He's telling me about times he's caught her staring at him in class and how there's no one more stunning in the whole world. I don't respond because I know he won't hear me and just keep going with his articulate spiel. It's funny, I've never heard him use so many words at one time.

Just as I'm cutting through the center of the stem of a carnation, one of many between us on the table, I hear jeering from somewhere else in the room. It only catches my attention because of the follow up of Phil's voice responding to it. I turn towards the sound before realizing that I shouldn't care. Before realizing that Link is still expecting me to nod along.

At another two person sized table is Phil and an Amber look alike who's standing across the table from him, her torso at the right leaning angle to face his sitting form. Her arms are as straight as sticks, therefore giving her the appearance of a hissing cat, complete with curled fingers pushing into the table. He's not meeting her eyes.

I watch the whole thing unfold, from the girl getting the attention of her goons to them pulling his hair and flicking his glasses. He's staying strong and doesn't even flinch when they laugh in his face. At the same time he's tense and his writing is slower than those around him; none of them are looking twice at the harassment. If I were a month younger, I would be doing the same thing. Instead, I can't keep my eyes away.

At first I think that surely the girls won't carry on for too long, it's never any fun if the victim doesn't respond. I can stay safe on the other side of the room if this plays out quickly. But then they keep pushing, and pushing, and pushing. Hurting Phil. The flower between my fingers is getting crushed, as if a long forgotten part of my brain is controlling me. They're still laughing, every cackle making my head swim further into darkness.

I can't think fast enough so I just squeeze my eyes shut and press my palms into them. Simultaneously feeding the fire around me. Buildings collapse. Butterflies fall mid-flight. What for, you coward?

Coward. Coward! COWARD!

Phil's POV

I'm so glad it's Sunday. Don't get me wrong, I can make it through the week. Tracy's company outweighs the occasional torment by a lot. It's just that, these few Sundays have comprised of the memories I have taken with me in my afternoon daydreams and pre-sleep imagery. They're passed lightly to my father underneath the cloudless skies. They're drawn on my skin and only fade when another seven days and nights pass. All of them still only with one guest star, Daniel.

Dan? Just a thought.

"Dan?" Now just a sound.

Dan's POV

Link reminded me earlier about a party that's going to be hosted by Corny Collins on New Year's eve. Since Corny pretty much owns this town, no one can imagine not being there. Like going to school five days a week or putting on shoes before you leave the house, attending his parties is the social norm. In this case, of Baltimore teens. If you don't go, you'll never hear the end of it. That even applies to all races. I brought it up with Phil, cutting short an "inspiring" discussion about how many eyelashes an average human has. It's the closest thing we've had to small talk in weeks.

He told me he would go, that he's never been to a New Year's party before. It doesn't surprise me but I'm a fine actor. It's too bad I'm not fine enough to hide how excited I am at the thought of his presence. I can't help it, the boy's grown on me.

As you go through life, you learn that majority rules and that's what makes it right. It's why only girls wear dresses, why segregation exists, why you can be called four-eyes but never be made fun of for having 20/20 vision. The most pretty and average people have the best lives and that's all we ever strive to be. But one day in comes this cat that nobody wants because it's older, and clumsy, and everybody already has a perfectly trained purebred. The cat tries to sing with its foreign sounds and the citizens call animal control to complain. 'I can't concentrate,' they say. 'The noise is disrupting my classical music.'  Little do they know that that unloved cat can and will outrun anyone who tries to catch it.

Suddenly, this cat finds you and purrs at you. You feed and care for it because somehow it reminds you of yourself, in turn, humiliating the despicable citizens who kicked it down. They're disgusted, but the cat has a place to stay now and you're never lonely again.

Phil doesn't use hairspray on a regular basis and he's memorized way more useless trivia than the average human. He doesn't watch the Corny Collins show and sometimes he gets crushes on boys. But he still sings, despite those long words that no one knows. And maybe someday the world will sing along.