Chapter Text

PART VI.

xxiii. school not cool.

MONTY.

Back to school again. Not exciting for Monty at all. Meeting his friends? Sure. However he found himself looking forward to seeing Alex, which sent this zap in his heart. 

Well, it’s not like he hadn’t met him two weeks ago. And there was no communication after that talk back at Monet’s. Monty stayed up that night thinking about what Alex told him. He was convinced that twink was gay but he still refused to believe it or maybe it was the denial he actually felt about himself; who he really was, what he really was. And how it would affect him if his suspicions towards Alex were true.

“You okay?” Estela’s voice pulled him from his incoming self loathing. 

He decided to take the bus with his younger middle-schooler sister, Estela. As it would save him more money from gas. Since he started working, and not sneaking some money from his dad’s pocket whenever that asshat wasn’t around, he learned the value of each penny. 

“Since when did you start working as a barista?” Estela decided to ask when Monty ignored her the first time, with this sly smile on her lips she tried hard not to show. 

“A while,” was all Monty’s reply, not interested to share the details.

They weren’t really close and stayed out of each other’s business. Affection wasn’t their language; it was never taught to them, but to be cautious around each other. Like breathing was the only thing allowed in their not so humble abode.

The bus finally arrived and they hopped in and went to different seats. Monty stopped midway seeing Alex sitting alone at the back looking out the window with headphones on. Monty almost didn’t recognize him because of his new hair color. Was it something he said? But Monty thought Alex still looked fine. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring, when the bus moved and he almost lost his footing. Thanks to his fast reflexes, he gripped on a backseat before disaster happened, disaster equals landing towards Alex—only an exaggeration—who fucking  saw and witnessed his embarrassment.

Monty instantly shifted his gaze outside the window as if he didn’t notice the twink. Heart drumming impossibly fast, he waited if he’d hear his name coming off this boy’s lips; fingers restlessly tapping against the plastic-made bus seats. Waiting.

Alex looked back outside. Okay. Monty’s okay. He was ignored—

“Monty.”

Like a dog whose name was being called by his master for a treat, Monty instantly turned. “H-hey! ALEX! Buddy!” He faked a smile, well that cool unfazed smile when his lips wanted to just stretch up to his ears in a joyful way. Calm down, Monty. He’s just Alex.

But his godforsaken body moved towards Alex, offering a hand for a high five which the other responded to, finally not embarrassing him. Then Monty simply took the seat beside Alex when he wasn’t offered to . . .  A point of no return.

‘Act normal, buddy!’ Monty scolded himself, mentally.

“You uh, changed your hair,” he quietly said, without looking at the other. Alex’s signature bleached hair was changed to light brown and it had grown. But Monty thought he’s gonna miss that unique bleached hair of his. Something he could recognize easily from the crowds, even a mile away. 

“Yeah,” was Alex’s short reply.

“Why?”

“I . . . want to? I don’t know.”

This time Monty turned. “Honestly, why?” He’s convinced it was something about what he said about his bleached hair being so gay.

Alex refused to look at him. “Does everything need to have a reason? Can’t someone just do something just because that’s what they want?”

Again, Alex Standall who always had  a valid point. Monty shrugged and leaned back to his seat, only realizing how close he was as their shoulders brushed against each other. But no one planned to move as if they liked to stay like this for a while.

* * *

So, it’s just the first day of school and things were already getting complicated, to Monty at least. Charlie came out as bisexual, announcing it in front of their friends, and declaring his big crush on Alex Standall. Of all people. 

Miraculously, Bryce, Luke, Diego, Scott, well practically everyone in the group were supportive. And they even waited for Alex to show up in their old rendezvous under the tree.

Monty didn’t know how to take all this. How??? Would they be this accepting and supportive if he told them his little—yes, it’s only little—crush on Alex?

“The big question is if Alex also swings that way,” Bryce said.

“I don’t really care if he doesn't, and rejects me, I just wanna let him know how I feel, y’know like take this off my chest and probably move on,” explained Charlie as if saying all these things were too easy. How could it seem too easy for him? Monty tried to mentally list down possible reasons as to why whatever Charlie was thinking and doing wasn’t a big of a deal! And he made it sound too normal. In Monty’s case, he would probably be dead once his old man learned about what he might be; a blurry image at the back of his head, a terrifying thing to entertain. Accepting whatever feelings he had for Alex had been hard even at this moment, but as someone who’s not a fan of analyzing things—well Alex made him analyze a lot of things—he learned to just fuck it and go with the flow and accept whatever this shit was. Minus the confessing part like what Charlie was doing. On the other hand, that didn’t make Monty gay. He’s not gay. And like he kept telling himself, Alex looked like a girl. That’s it.

Yet there was this new fear swelling at the pit of his stomach that Alex, ten to one, would go to Charlie. And this was when Monty hated that he always had his guts right. He wished to be wrong this time.

ALEX.

NO FUCKING WAY!

Jessica had this big smile on her face when she broke the news to him she heard from Justin that Charlie had a huge crush on him. Jessica emphasized the word huge.

“Is Charlie . . . gay?” Alex asked, confused and surprised.

“Probably. I mean he likes you, pretty boy,” Jessica nudged him flirtatiously.

Alex made a face. “And you believed Justin?” 

“Yeah, he told me he heard Charlie clearly with his two ears!”

In fact, Alex didn’t know what he should feel with this new information. And why? Why would Charlie like him? How? And when? Had he missed the hints?

First, Monty. He still doubted that Monty liked him, however that doubt was mixed with a bit of certainty; he remembered what Justin revealed back at Summer Camp, and Monty’s strange gestures last Summer. However, looking at Monty and the word gay was still hard for Alex to connect. And then now, there’s Charlie. Alex was only learning today that he could be a gay magnet. And why was it always Justin who leaked those stuff out? Could Justin be gay as well?

Alex ended up spending half of his first day being a Sophomore thinking about Charlie having a crush on him that he had to hurriedly take the opposite direction when he saw the guy a mile away heading the same direction as him! He never bothered noticing Charlie yet now . . . why was this affecting him so much? Why was he letting it affect him so much?

He turned the corner, deciding to take the longer route to the registrar to ask for his schedule since he misplaced the one he asked earlier this morning. Great! That’s what happens when you keep thinking about stuff that doesn’t matter.

Clay and Hannah were at the registrar when Alex arrived. They instantly let their hands go and acted as if nothing, but Alex saw everything. So, Monty was right, there’s something going on. 

“So, I’ll see you around,” Clay told Hannah who smiled gently and gave him that little wave. Alex was observing both their actions. Clay obviously didn’t want to leave but he thought he had to for whatever reason. Were they keeping it a secret? 

“So, you and Clay, huh?” Alex muttered before asking the registrar for his schedule.

“Name?” the woman behind the counter asked. Alex gave her his name.

“What’s with the new haircut?” Hannah said like in an attempt to change the subject. “I like it.”

“Thanks,” he said. “So when did you and Clay become a thing?”

“Mr. Standall, here’s your schedule,” the registrar appeared with a little paper in hand. “Just sign here in case you’re pretending to be,” she paused to read his name, “ Alexander Dean Standall.”

Alex raised his brows, “Right,” and signed on the record book. Then took his schedule. “Thanks.”

“So what’s your next subject?” Hannah asked.

Alex decided to drop asking about her and Clay as she obviously didn’t want to talk about it yet. Though, he wondered if Jessica knew.

“Biology, unfortunately,” he replied. 

“So, I’m hearing news,” she finally opened up as they absentmindedly made their way to the cafeteria.

“Me too,” he said.

“Really? Then I presume you already know about you and Charlie.”

“No, I heard things about you and Clay,” he stopped and turned to her momentarily. How could she slide the rumors about him and Charlie then avoid the topic about her and Clay.

“Alexander Dean, please. Clay and I are just . . .  an unsure thing. That’s all I can say for now.”

“But you like him. And he likes you.”

“Mmm . . . Yeah, that’s what I know. What we know.”

Shit! 

Alex felt his insides turning, catching sight of Bryce’s group with Charlie . . . and Monty.

He looked straight ahead, pretending not to see them.

“Alex! Buddy!” Bryce waved, and everyone turned to his direction.

Oh no!

Alex had no plans to join them, good thing he’s with Hannah . . . who was suddenly gone.

As he turned, she was already walking distances away. Did she just—

Oh great! Just great!

He mentally rolled his eyes in defeat as he just helplessly collided with Bryce and his gang. But Alex, still mindful of Charlie, made sure not to get near him and went to Monty; it was an unconscious decision as if his body knew where it felt safest with, and unfortunately it was the moron. 

However, Luke pushed Charlie towards him and Alex had no choice but to just let things be.

Charlie gave an awkward wave, “H-hi,” which Alex answered with a little smile. 

Then slowly everyone left them alone.

*  *  *

“I hope you don’t mind eating alone with me,” Charlie said as they finally got to the cafeteria, seated on a table with their food.

“N-no, not at all,” Alex half-lied.

“I know you must’ve heard the rumors already a-about me liking you.” Charlie fought all his fear to look at his crush.

Alex didn’t answer. He still didn’t know what to say about it. 

Charlie went on, “Well, it’s true. I like you. I-it was hard for me, this decision to come out as bisexual especially we both know the toxic masculinity being in Bryce’s group. But I thought if I let this fear always win, then I’ll keep hiding forever. Should they kick me out then so be it. They’re not the people I need.  But what happened was the opposite. I didn’t expect the support I got from them.” He paused, realizing he had thrown too much information. “Okay, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m saying these things.”

“It’s okay,” Alex said. “I mean it’s brave of you to come out. It’s not always an easy thing.” For some reason, Monty came to his mind. “Coming out is not an option for some. It was a struggle for many. So I thought you made the right decision for yourself. Besides, at the end of the day, it’s important that we do things that are good for us.”

Charlie had this big smile on his face. “Thanks for saying that, Alex. You never know how important it is for me to hear those words from you.”

Alex looked at Charlie and thought he’s a good person. He never really knew Charlie, he just thought he’s nice with some rough edges but it all changed at this moment. He seemed kind. No wonder the jocks were so fond of him despite his declaration of his sexuality, it was his personality that they loved about him. He wondered if Charlie was aware of it though?

“I just want to ask if you’re free later? I mean I don’t want to miss this chance and regret things but if you don’t—”

“Okay, sure,” Alex surprised himself by how quick he answered, “Let’s hang out later.”

Light literally shone on Charlie’s face. “Great.”

xxiv. (not) so complicated.

MONTY.

“Did you know?” Justin spoke behind Monty while typing on his phone his first English essay of the week, which he would write on pad tomorrow. They’re back at Bryce’s pool house lying back to back on a duvet-covered mattress. 

Meanwhile, Monty just stared into nothingness, waiting for sleep to arrive, tortured with thoughts of Alex, and now with the addition of Charlie. “What?” he said, hoping talking with Justin, which he had no plan on doing, would help to distract.

“Charlie asked Alex out,” Justin said.

Why the hell did I bother? As if he didn’t know about it. Monty knew talking with Justin would be a bad idea. He just made his spiraling worse.

Monty tightened his grip on the pillow as if for comfort. “So what?” 

“I think it’s time you ask Alex out.”

“What?” Monty scoffed defensively “Why would I do that?” Besides, he’s already with Charlie.

“You like him, right? Alex?”

How did—How the fuck did Justin know?

Monty scoffed again to hide the discomfort that’s been gnawing inside him. “No. I’m not . . . gay. Charlie’s gay.”

“Bisexual, Monty. Charlie is bisexual.”

“What’s the difference?”

“He swings both ways.” Justin then laughed.

Monty stayed silent. 

It was quiet then, except for the obnoxious sound of Justin’s keypads. Normally, the noise would irritate the fuck out of Monty, yet tonight, it brought peace within him. Then it stopped. 

“You awake, bud?” Justin asked in a low voice.

Monty pondered whether to pretend to be asleep. But what Justin suggested earlier had him thinking. As much as Monty didn’t trust Justin’s opinion most of the time, he needed a friend tonight.

“How the fuck do you think I am going to fall asleep when you’re typing in freakin’ high volume?” countered Monty.

“Oh sorry about that,” Justin sounded apologetic, he switched his phone to silent mode.

“You were saying?” Monty asked.

“Oh, right. About the Alex and Charlie thing going around. Are you sure your not-gay-ass isn't affected?”

“The fuck with your questions?” Monty turned to Justin this time who’s already facing him.

“I know how you feel about Alex. You told me before and I’ve seen it back at Summer camp. I’m not stupid, Monty.”

“I say, you’re reading too much about it, whatever you saw back at Summer camp  . . . is all just your delusions.”

“Delu—Mon-tay! I have seen enough,” Justin laughed and his behavior was starting to make Monty nervous. He seemed to really know something. Or Justin could just be bluffing.

“Here.”

A phone was shoved in front of Monty’s face. It took a while for Monty to register what’s going on until he’s staring at an image of him sleeping and snuggling on a sleeping Alex Standall back at Summer camp.

Justin was quick to evade and pull his phone away before Monty could snatch it.

“DELETE THAT, JUSTIN!” Monty chased after the culprit, running around the little pool house.

“NOT HAPPENING!” 

“I SWEAR—”

“WHY WOULD I DELETE SUCH A BEAUTIFUL IMAGE!”

“FUCK YOU, FOLEY!”

* * *

Monty was throwing daggers at Justin’s way the next day, and the asshat was good at ignoring him. Monty made it his goal to get his phone to delete that photo. He'd be dead if someone saw that.

“Eyy, loverboy!” Justin gave Charlie a friendly pat as soon as the boy arrived with this gleeful aura. “So I heard you and Alex went out yesterday.”

A tug in Monty’s chest. He watched and listened silently by the side as the others poked in to hear the latest news.

Long story short: Alex Standall was going out with Charlie St. George.

So, it didn’t just happen in the movies where everything around you seemed to crumble down, and then nothing. Monty just stood there. Lost and confused. He didn’t know where to start, what to do. How to feel. How to react. It took him several minutes, immobile. 

And for the first time, he found himself running away. 

ALEX.

Monty was gone for two days. Alex admitted that it somewhat worried him having this little idea that the guy was experiencing domestic abuse. He might have wanted to ask Charlie about it but he couldn’t. He didn’t know how to explain it, as if something was stopping him. Was it fear? But of what?

So he tried brushing it off by convincing himself that Monty was okay and that he’s old enough to take care of himself. He knew Monty enough that he’d go back.

And the moron did.

He showed up with this new energy that Friday. Greeting everyone with a high five but then passing by him like he didn’t exist.

Something’s certainly not right.

But Alex brushed it off again, trying to not let it affect him, when it was, if he’s going to be honest, affecting him. Thankfully, Charlie’s company was nice. He’s such a sweet fellow. Although Alex was still unsure of how he felt about him, Charlie gave him the assurance that they could be open about it, which made it easier for Alex to be truthful about his sexuality. 

And since they began going out, they frequently go to the cafeteria with just the two of them, thanks to the support his jock friends gave them.

“I don’t know but . . . ” Alex took a sip of his plain yogurt, “going out with a guy doesn’t feel wrong to me, like I can see myself being with a—a guy eventually.”

I hope I’m that guy, Charlie thought. He didn’t want to force himself to Alex even if the thought of losing him later on scared him. 

“When did you start to realize that?” Charlie asked.

Alex didn’t even have to think about it, but then that night Monty kissed him flashed through his head—the kiss he was supposed to forget. He felt a stir inside his body. He tried to flush it down by finishing his remaining yogurt.

“Dunno. I just . . .” Alex shrugged and glanced at Charlie, eager to drop the topic down, “did.”

* * *

Alex should’ve acknowledged the signs that there’s something wrong with Monty. It’s not like the guy did anything right. He was walking down the hallways to his locker when he crossed paths with Monty, rather, crashed onto. Sure, students were everywhere but there’s enough space for Monty not to ram onto him causing the books in his arms to fall. 

“Oops, sorry, Standall!” But the smirk on Monty’s didn’t look sorry at all. Alex began picking his books. And Monty just stood there, reminding Alex of a jerk that he was. “Er . . . I guess you can ask St. George to help you with that since I’m late for my Football practice.” Monty patted his shoulder and ran away.

What the fuck? Are they back to square one? Alex thought things were finally starting to go well with them, but Monty was always—he’s even an expert—making things hard and complicated; all because of his refusal to acknowledge the probability of whatever the hell was going on between them. Alex wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t nothing, those stuff they did; those times they had spent together, particularly that one Summer night But seeing how Monty behaved . . . it infuriated Alex because he wished he knew what’s going on inside Monty’s head. 

xxv. don’t belong here.

MONTY.

Heh. So they’ll just do what? Go and date here?

Monty had this displeased smirk as he watched from the counter, Alex and Charlie entering Monet’s. He absentmindedly wiped the area clean from crumbs and various liquids from making coffee. With a grim expression, he dumped the dirty cloth hard to the sink and marched inside the stockroom to get some air. Don’t be a pussy! His dad’s insulting words echoed in his head. I’m not a fuckin’ pussy. Monty then went out back, wanting to prove his dad wrong. He’s not a pussy! Yet the moment he saw the two sat at a table facing each other with smiles on their faces . . . his hands balled into fists. Stop looking. The cash register machine suddenly looked interesting to him. But the image of Alex and Charlie together tattooed at the back of his brain. 

Fuck. 

He couldn’t stand them and he didn’t think he could ever. An unexplainable weight inside his chest evoked whenever he spotted the two. For some reason, he felt betrayed, like he’d been stabbed. He thought Alex was aware of his feelings. ‘You sure about that? You never told him how you felt?’ Monty argued with himself. ‘Well, I had sent that text that I like him, right? So he knew . . .’ ‘But you were high that time, Monty. And you kept denying it to his face . . .’ ‘Couldn’t he read the signs?’ ‘What signs? You’re not throwing any signs—’

“Hey, Monty,” Charlie’s voice pulled Monty out of his trance and found his friend—couldn’t call Charlie that now—already standing by the counter. 

Monty looked sideways, hoping to hide the resentment plastered on his face. He wore the fakest genuine smile he could manage.

“Ahoy, my friend!” And that’s it. He didn’t know what to say next.

“Hey,” Charlie greeted again. And it was literally dead air. 

What’s this?

Was he too obvious? Did Charlie find out how he felt for Alex and was guilty? Or maybe he’s holding some grudges towards him?

“Uh . . . Alex told me he wanted the latest Frappe here,” Charlie said, breaking the awkward silence. “And as you see, I rarely go here so I don’t really know. Could you help me?”

Oh, so Charlie’s only having a little problem. Not because he had noticed anything—never mind. 

That relieved Monty somehow. 

He glanced at Alex and had the craziest idea.

“No worries, my friend! You asked the right guy,” Monty leaned, reaching to tap Charlie on his arm with a wink. And Charlie looked overjoyed. Always the simple-minded jock nerd.

“So does Alex frequent here?” Charlie whispered the question.

Monty decided to lie about it knowing this was Alex's favorite place. “No. What’s your drink by the way?”

Charlie then decided on a Latte Macchiato with two Penne pastas and two rainbow cake slices. Seriously? Okay. Someone’s on a feast.

He then punched the Strawberry Cheesecake thingy for Alex’s order as the latest Frappe on the menu when it wasn’t what he planned to give at all, and then the Macchiato that Charlie ordered.

“Got it. Wait for your name to be called,” Monty then bid Charlie goodbye after the payment and began preparing their order. Mischief plastered on his face knowing what to do with Alex’s drink.

And he began working, making it as bad as possible: Strawberry, caramel, with three shots of espresso and whipped cream. Added some random ingredients and popped a cinnamon powder on top of the whipped cream aside from chocolate syrup. 

Monty tasted the excess, made a sour face of how sweet it was, it’s almost cringey. Perfect! Monty wore this victorious smile as he stared at his self-made coffee, proud of his craft. Then he did Charlie’s order, making it bland. 

“Charlie St. George!” Monty called to Charlie, serving the two drinks and their food on a tray. His eyes landed on Alex who looked in his direction after hearing the name of his ‘date’ being called. A pang hit Monty’s chest. He tried to flush it down and continued wearing the fake smile he hoped didn’t look fake at all.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you, Monty,” Charlie said with utmost sincerity, making Monty suddenly remorseful for what he just did.

“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy,” said Monty absentmindedly.

ALEX.

Worst. Coffee. Ever. 

He stared at the drink served to him carefully. “What drink is this?” he asked Charlie.

“Why? Is something wrong?” Worried painted across Charlie’s face. He wanted this to be perfect. He wanted the times he spent with Alex to be great. So any small inconvenience like this worried him easily. He’s normally a chill person or an easy-go-lucky guy as his friends told him . . . except with Alex, whose eyebrows were meeting at the center which screamed trouble. Charlie tried to pretend to be calm when his insides were in havoc.

“Yeah. I mean everything about this drink is wrong,” said Alex with the grimace still on his face.

“Can I?” Charlie gestured in an attempt to taste his drink which Alex handed to him. He inwardly swallowed knowing Alex drank from it so it seemed they’d be going for an indirect kiss. He took a sip and immediately put the glass down. Well, this wasn’t what he wanted their first kiss to be like, should it happen. 

“I told you,” Alex said, seeing how Charlie reacted.

“It . . . I think I’m drinking poison!” exclaimed Charlie. 

A chuckle escaped Alex’s lips. “Right. Poison. A way to describe it. I wonder what Monty had served us.” He looked at the counter where Monty stood and the idiot avoided his gaze. “How’s your drink, Charlie?”

“It’s fine. A li’l bland.”

* * *

[What’s ur problem?]

Alex sent the text message to <this guy is annoying> and Monty did annoy the hell out of him. He knew he had something to do with the coffee. How badly Alex wanted to file a complaint against him and tell him to his manager but he thought it might cost him his job. ‘It’s his fault!’ Yet Alex couldn’t do such a thing. Damn! Why the hell was he concerned about Monty? ‘He only got himself to blame why he lost his job.’

Alex waited but the moron didn’t reply. Before he knew it it’s close to midnight and he waited to drift off to dreamland but he couldn’t. His thoughts filled with the annoying guy at Monet’s, cutting into pieces what he could have done this time as to why Monty was being shitty again. What he did earlier, sabotaging his drink was way down the line. Although he didn’t tell Charlie that Monty  might have done it on purpose. But why would he do such a thing? He’s not jealous . . . is he? 

Warmth filled Alex’s cheeks by the thought that Monty might be . . . jealous, keeping him up all night. It surprised him that he still had the energy to go to school and even show up at the Football tryout the next day. 

For whatever reason, Charlie had this good convincing power to make him try the burly sport. Yet the moment Alex stepped foot inside the boys’ locker room, he instantly wanted to flee. Every guy was buff, except him. And their muscles kind of sent this insecurity and embarrassment for Alex to take his clothes off and change. 

“Hey, Alex!” Charlie appeared, beaming. Alex felt relieved seeing a familiar face until he caught sight of Monty entering after Charlie. The jerk ignored him as Alex had guessed and ran to where Diego was.

“Hey,” greeted Alex back. “I don’t think I belong here.”

“Why would you think that?” Charlie placed a hand on his shoulder as if checking him. “This is your chance to prove your dad wrong.”

“I dunno if I can do this.” Alex turned away. He’s beginning to regret oversharing his daddy issues to Charlie yesterday at Monet’s. 

“You—okay, just try, alright? And if you didn’t make it, at least you could tell yourself that you tried,” Charlie’s voice began to fade off of Alex’s ears as he stood frozen in his place catching Monty taking his shirt off. It’s just a guy going naked yet . . . he kept watching. His eyes traveled down to Monty’s toned torso which sent a sudden dryness to his throat.

Charlie’s gentle nudge brought Alex back to reality and he quickly looked away, completely convinced, after what he just witnessed, that he didn’t belong here.

xxvi. color you in.

ALEX.

It was like one of those high school chic flicks where the girl fell and the boy landed on top of her, with their faces too close, they’re almost breathing to each other. And Monty was on top of him. They just gazed at each other, lost for breath, not moving an inch. The gold flecks in Monty’s brown eyes spread like galaxies, and Alex caught himself getting lost in it. Not to mention that the weight of his body and the heat of his skin consumed him . . . in a terrifyingly good way.

He didn’t know how long they were in this position, and the world seemed to stop and turned silent around them.

“You . . .” Monty finally pulled his body up, coldness burnt on the space where his warmth once was. “You alright?” he continued, sticking a hand out for him to take.

Blinking, Alex stared at him, then to his hand, tentatively taking it to stand. “I–ugh–FUCK!” 

An excruciating pain shot him; crawling up his thighs. It’s killing him! Monty quickly yet carefully caught his shoulders, leveling their gazes.

“Wh-you okay?” he asked softly, when his face was telling otherwise, as if trying to control the rising tension through the tone of his voice. And it helped bring comfort, lessening the pain gripping his leg. Alex wanted to hear them again.

But that feeling quickly changed back to panic as he attempted taking a step. “I—I can’t move my legs!” Alex looked at Monty with fear in his eyes. “I can’t walk!”

“What happened?” Charlie appeared next to him, worried also heavy in his voice.

“I can’t fucking walk,” explained Alex, glancing at his helpless leg. 

“Here! Get on my back,” Monty turned around, offering his broad back to him, “let’s get you to the hospital,” when Charlie stopped him.

“Wait. We better call an ambulance and put him on a stretcher. That would be safer.”

“And what? He’s just gonna stand here?” Argued Monty, throwing a hand over his leg, as he looked around. They’re in the middle of the football field and all attention was on them. 

Then Alex overheard some boys saying, “It seems a love triangle is aboutta brew.” “Charlie, Alex and Monty.” “Alex’s prince charmings, heh.”

Great, they have time to give this a meaning and create an issue for their own entertainment. It didn’t help that Alex was standing between Monty and Charlie, who seemed to suddenly engage in a staring contest.

“Boys! What is going on?” Couch Kerba finally came to the rescue. Charlie and Monty explained, much to Alex’s embarrassment, how he couldn’t walk! Why did he have to have such weak bones?!

”I guess football isn’t for everyone,” commented Coach Kerba. Something Alex didn’t have to hear. He already knew.

“Monty, guide Alex to the bench. Can you do that, Alex?”

“I-I guess,” Alex answered, unsure.

Monty offered his shoulders for Alex to wrap his arms onto. 

“Can you take a step?” Monty turned to look at him. And his face, their faces were too close . . . again. 

Alex evaded his gaze, throat bopping as he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. He nodded, his chest drumming wild and hard. He’s afraid Monty could hear it loud and clear. But if he ever did, he showed no signs.

“Okay, on the count of one,” Monty said, patiently.

Alex tried taking a step, which was easier with the guidance of Monty.

“Good,” Monty said. And his voice. It’s not helping that he’s using that soft voice again. But Alex tried to ignore it all and focus on his footing. However, paying attention to his leg only worsened the pain, so he had to distract himself, which happened to not be difficult at all. With every step he took, his body would brush against Monty’s. Sending another feeling aside from the pain. 

MONTY.

He couldn’t stop himself. And it’s terrifying him. And Charlie saying those, these chaos inside him, expressing them out loud, while they waited for Alex outside the Emergency Room, only prove whatever this was, real. 

“I want to protect him, Monty. I want to protect Alex.”

‘Me too.’ Monty wanted to say. But instead what came out of his mouth was the question, “Why?” even if the answer was clear.

Coward, he told himself.

“I think . . . I love him,” Charlie muttered. “Well, I dunno if . . . but,” he turned to Monty and said deliberately, “I like him too much. And I don’t know what I’d do with all these feelings I have for him. It can,” he paused and let out a chuckle, “It can sometimes be too overwhelming. Know what I mean?” And then he crouched his back down staring into his clasp hands resting on his thighs. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Monty pressed his lips, squirming slightly on his seat. He cleared his throat, and said, “Oh yeah?”

As if catching the mood, Charlie apologized. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bore you with all my feelings. I know I sound corny right now.”

But unfortunately, it wasn’t the case. Monty didn’t find any of it corny at all. Worse, he understood Charlie. And it scared him. What if he couldn’t keep himself from wanting to protect Alex. That’s why when he saw the football flying over, hurling at Alex, he felt the need to push and shield him. 

However, he only hurt those people he wanted to protect. See, where it led Alex. Maybe if he didn’t—

Alex appeared from the Emergency Room, a cast on his injured leg and crutches. Monty felt his heart drop, yet he didn’t know where he got the strength to stand.

Unable to look at him, all he could say was, “I’m sorry . . . If I hadn’t tackled you down—”

“I guess this was all my fault,” Charlie suddenly spoke, cutting him off. “I convinced you to try out.”

“Hey, this isn’t some kind of contest whose fault—damn,” Alex winced. And took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie continued. And Monty didn’t feel any different.

“No. It’s okay.” Alex managed a smile to lighten up the mood. “If it helps, I didn’t regret any of this. I mean, ’tis all part of the game, right? If I had to turn back time, I’m still going to try again.”

That made Monty smile, out of relief. 

“Right. It’s all part of the game,” Charlie repeated as if convincing himself.

“Wait, till my dad sees this,” Alex mumbled, almost proudly.

Monty remembered that night Alex talked about his dad as they got wasted in his Jeep in front of the famous Golden Gate Bridge. A memorable night. 

But how fast it all changed. Charlie now had his hands assisting Alex as they made their way out of the hospital, which Alex refused at first and told him he’s fine. But Charlie, always persistent Charlie, wouldn’t let him. And Monty felt like a helpless chaperone walking silently behind, leading them to his Jeep. 

Alex hopped in the passenger’s seat while Charlie took the back seat. Monty may have taken his chance to help Alex hop in and that was enough.

The drive to Alex’s home was silent, except for Charlie dropping words of comfort to Alex every now and then, and offering his help should Alex need it.

Monty would grip on the wheel hard, trying to focus back on the road instead of listening to them, until Alex broke his disruptive silence.

“Thanks, Monty,” he said.

“For what?” His tone came a little harsher. “I only caused you . . .” he stopped and glanced at his cast to get his point across. Then back on the road.

“It could have been worse,” Alex shrugged. Silence surrounded them for a moment and then he went on, “Just thank you. You and Charlie. I didn’t expect to see you guys outside the ER.”

“That's all we could do,” Monty muttered.

“Yeah,” Charlie seconded.

“Still. I thought I’d leave the ER alone.”

Monty smiled to himself. Warmth over Alex’s appreciative words. If I could only do more.

Ten minutes later they finally arrived at Standall’s place. Monty was about to step down when Alex told them not to bother but of course, Charlie was too stubborn to let him have his own way.

That’s how you do it, Monty. He mulled over to himself as he watched Charlie guide Alex to the front door. He couldn’t do any of that . . . without feeling scared. Maybe Charlie was good for Alex. While he . . . he's good for nothing. You’re good for nothing, Monty. He thought bitterly.

The two talk shortly before Alex glanced his way and gave him a wave of thanks,  and Monty replied with a nod. 

And you are too good for me, Alex.

—  end of PART VI —