Everybody's Got a Dream

six

Slurping his noodles mournfully, Alex glared across the way at the curly-haired man in front of him. 

"You know, you're probably going to die before you're 50, Alex." Thomas said, staring disdainfully at the red bull, coffee, and Cup of Noodles that Alex was currently consuming for lunch. "There is no way that can be good for your system."

Alex lifted his bowl with an expression that said "duh!" After he finished chewing, Alex replied: "I'm here for a good time, not a long time, Jefferson."

With the hint of a smile on his face, Thomas rolled his eyes. "You are unbelievable."

"Thanks."

There was an awkward lull in the conversation as Alexander finished his food. "You gonna eat anything for lunch, Pinkie?"

"Woah. Uncalled for. It was literally one time when my hair was dyed pink. Plus, it wasn't even my fault... Wait a sec, didn't you and lover boy do it?"

Alex laughed from around his Red Bull can. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't ignore the question, you douchebag."

Alex just shot Thomas a mischievous grin and returned to eating. 

"Fine. We can talk about something else then." Thomas continued, his eyes drifting behind Alex's head and locking onto a pile of snow that was fluttering down.

"Well," Alex said, the noodles in his mouth somewhat muddling his words, "what's the plan with, you know." His voice dropped to a whisper. "John."

"Oh my God, you can't even say his name out loud?" Thomas leaned back in his chair, putting his arms behind his head. "You're so hopeless."

"Oi, shut up. I bet you can't say the name of the person you love out loud either." Alex hissed, his eyes narrowing and his body tensing defensively. 

Thomas quirked an eyebrow, rolling his eyes. "Of course I can't tell you whom I love. It's a personal matter of my heart!"

Under his breath, Alexander muttered, "Who even uses whom anymore? It's the 21st century."

"Have I ever told you this?" Alex said, much louder. "You literally remind me of a walking, talking, Shakespearian actor. You talk like your husband just got murdered and now you're planning on marrying the next king."

"Sweetie, just because I'm a teensy-bit more educated than you doesn't mean you need to hiss at me."

Alexander gasped. "Well, Shakespeare, as least I don't act like a freakin' 12th-century actor!" 

"For one, that nickname sucks. For two, he was born in the 16th century, you uncultured pig!" Thomas growled.

Alexander stood up, gave a frustrated chuckle, and spread his arms. "Does it look like I give a flying fu-"

Thomas threw his shoe at Alexander, cutting the man off in his complaint. "You have such a dirty mouth. I won't tolerate such behavior."

"You have got to be kidding. Dude, once we break up, I'm going to kill you." Alexander snarled. 

"Alrighty, just know the feeling is mutual." Thomas shot a wink towards the shorter boy and turned away. "You know, we have to figure out a game plan. Like how did we meet?"

"I'm the best at stories, lemmie have a crack at it."

"Be my guest."

--

A few hours later, Alexander showed up, standing in front of Thomas with a stack of printed papers. Thomas glanced up at Alexander from his seat on the reclining chair. 

"What is that?" Thomas asked, reaching into his pocket for his glasses, which he slipped over the bridge of his nose. The thin, wiry frames made him look older, wiser. Alexander rolled his eyes.

"Okay, Grandpa. It's our backstory, remember? It's got plot and anecdotes and everything we would need to survive this reunion."

Thomas read over the list. "You're sayin' that you asked me out?"

"Yeah. If you don't like it, talk to the author. Oh wait, that's me. The author says no revisions."

Thomas rolled his eyes and flipped the page. "Alrighty, Lexie."

Alexander left the room, calling out that he was going to take a shower and causally flipping the bird over his shoulder. Thomas' laugh followed him out the door. 

--

"Shoot." Alexander muttered under his breath, noticing the familiar figure who just happened to turn the corner of the street they were walking on, headed straight for them. The bouncing curls and self-confident smirk of the one and only Angelica Schuyler. She appeared to not notice them, her eyes gazing out into the street as she held a phone to her ear. 

The couple shared a panic glance and immediately reached for each other's hands. Now was not the time to blow their cover. 

"Hey Angelica!" Thomas crooned,  pulling Alexander closer to his side. Alexander tried to smile, but he knew it looked more like a grimace.

"Alexander! Thomas. I didn't expect to see you two here. It's been a while, hasn't it." Angelica's eyes drifted downwards to their clasped hands. "Uh. Dating?"

"Yeah. We started dating two years ago! Uh, well..." Alexander glanced up at Thomas, trying to look as lovestruck as he could. (It felt like he was about to either throw up or start crying.)

Thomas grinned down, somehow managing to not look like a chainsaw murderer (For once! thought Alexander). "I asked Alexander to go get drinks with me after we won a case together, and, well, I confessed first, obviously."

Angelica, with suspicious blatantly showing in her eyes, gave them another once-over, and then left. "I've got stuff to do. I'll see you at the college reunion, huh?" 

The couple waved until Angelica was lost in the hubbub of the downtown street. Immediately, Alexander's smile melted off his face.

He elbowed Thomas in the ribs and hissed under his breath, "That wasn't the story! I was the one who was supposed to have confessed first!"

Thomas shrugged, "Oops." He didn't look very sorry at all.

"I can't believe you," Alexander said, shaking his head. 

"I know, I'm so incredible." 

Alexander rolled his eyes. "Think about John. Think about John." He told himself, massaging his temples. "Don't think about murdering your pretend boyfriend. You still need him! You can't show up to the reunion with a dead body."

The couple continued down the street, and Thomas looked deep in thought. If they had been in this situation 3 weeks ago, Alexander would have demanded that Thomas share his thoughts. But now, Alexander knew to wait. (Prompting Thomas before he was ready was a surefire way to get into a screaming match.)

So Alexander waited. 

Thomas finally spoke up. "This is a wake-up-call, Alexander. We have to be on our toes! We literally ran into Angelica Schuyler on the street! We have to be, as Shakespeare would have put it, in character."

"I hate you, Hamlet."

Thomas grinned, "Is 'Hamlet' the only play you know?"

"Oh, shut up." Alexander turned from Thomas to roll his eyes in private. Not because he was fondly smiling too. No way. 

"