This time last year Fern remembered he was beyond stressed. He had just taken midterms, followed by PSAT's. He wasn't doing well in any of his classes, and he had no positive outlet for all of his stress. A year later he still had all the same problems, almost nothing had changed. If anything his grades had gotten worse. But there was a difference, one week of helping out in drama club every afternoon proved that.

He walked with a bounce in his step, a smile on his face, and better posture. He had a crick in his neck from constantly looking on either side of the halls hoping to catch Ani turning the bend of any corner. For most of his school years, he understood that there were different standards for social interactions with people. There were acquaintances; they tended to keep interaction to a minimum of quick hi's or hey's in the hallways; friends, friends took the effort to high five each other in the hallways; and his personal favorite, relationship type interactions. The ones that stopped in the hall and shared a kiss in between classes, occasionally leading to other things (but Fern's mind tended to wander). Fern was almost certain that he was at worst acquaintances with Ani. And at best they were already dating and Fern was given kissing rights upon seeing each her, occasionally leading to much more frivolous behavior (if his recent dreams held any truth). The only obstacle that stood in the way of his hellos, high-fives, and or kisses was that he never actually saw Ani outside of Drama club.

Fern turned his head behind him making sure that there weren't any supermodelesque figures trailing behind him. The halls were thinning out already, but Fern's pace never quickened he remained at a relaxed walk to another boring class.

"Come on Ani this would be a really great time for you to pop up." He said out loud. He felt like one smile from the girl could carry him through his next period. It was tedious knowing that he'd had at least three more periods and a lunch period to get through before he could see her. He turned the last corner, he could see his history classroom at the end of the hall. The heavy tan door was still stuck open by a slanted piece of wood sticking out of the bottom.

"Maybe I'll actually m--" The loud clanging of the final bell rang out, telling the student body to get inside a room or get hunted down by a wandering teacher. A loud groan escaped him as he sped up his pace. As he got closer a familiar form stepped out of the classroom holding the doorknob and kicking the door stop out from underneath it.

Fern was already looking her over noticing the subtle changes in her appearance today. She was wearing a fitted blue pencil skirt that matched her light blue blouse. She had light blonde hair pulled up into a bun like it always was with another blue ribbon tying it together. One quick glance at her shoes confirmed the color of them as well. Even Fern understood that wearing all of the same colors was tacky, but her small frame and often innocent look made it seem almost endearing in a cute way. He'd rate her a ten out of ten on his attraction scale if  he was to decide. Miss. Clarkson, his history teacher a woman too beautiful to be teaching about such a boring topic (but he would say that about a majority of his teachers).

Miss. Clarkson looked up at Fern just as he approached the door. She let out a long drawn out sigh adjusting her blouse.

"You've decided to make time in your busy schedule to join us for class Fern?" She asked crossing her arms like most people did when they were trying to seem bigger and more important than they actually were. Fern responded with a small shrug, deciding that a none answer was the best answer. After a moment Miss. Clarkson rolled her eyes and just gestured into her classroom. "Just find your seat you're just in time for a Pop Quiz!" She said loudly enough for the rest of the class to hear. There was immediately a loud collective groan from the students of the class. Fern didn't bother expressing his misery audibly, he was positive anyone could tell just by looking at him.

He slipped his backpack off dropping it next to his desk and sliding into the seat. He sunk down a little lower like it was possible to miss her carefully typed wrath if he hid behind the person in front of him. Miss Clarkson walked passed the front of the class to grab the stack of paper on her desk. Fern scanned the room and almost scoffed, a good amount of the guys and enough of the girls were giving Miss.Clarkson a once over. Fern almost stood up and called them amateurs. It had only taken him a few days to figure out methods to check out any person he had in mind without seeming like a complete creep. He had a few missteps, occasionally becoming too greedy, but it was a learning curve. Or at least that's what he convinced himself was the problem.

"Okay, time for a little pop quiz to show just where everyone is in understanding." Miss. Clarkson announced passing out papers to the front row. Fern didn't even have to debate it in his head, he already knew he was screwed. His level of comprehension for this class was in the toilet, there were no amount of notes that could have rescued him from a failing grade in that class. The paper landed in front of him. By the time Fern read through the half of the ten questions he was ready to raise a white flag and throw in the towel on this test.

Ten questions, that meant each question was worth ten points (he could do the math to some degree). That meant if he got more than four questions wrong he would fail the quiz.

"Great." He mumbled a part of him tried telling himself maybe he would have been better off if he studied even a little bit on the subject. After a moment he almost laughed, he knew he was kidding himself. No amount of bad grades would drag him over to his desk and waste his time studying on subjects he didn't understand anyway. "Fern. You really screwed the pooch on this one." He mumbled to himself, then he paused. If he had bothered to hold a pencil he would have put it down. His mind began to wonder, as it often did when he was evading the daunting task of completing a quiz. This one being on the (extremely) exciting topic of the French Revolution.

He wondered where the term, screwed the pooch came from? Setting aside the fact that he had used the term at all he wondered who had used it first. He bet it was the French, who better to come up with such a strange term like screwing the pooch?

"Excuse my French, but you really screwed the pooch." Suddenly the term screwed the pooch became hysterical in Fern's mind. He had to bite his lip to stifle a hysterical laugh. He glanced to the side, Brittney Starling was giving him suspicious eyes before turning away again. That was enough to quiet him down but not enough to stop his thoughts.

He could almost picture what had happened in the moment. In his mind, it went down close to this: It started with four to five French guys, they were sitting around a round table eating a croissant or something Frenchy. One of the friends came over to the table, looking a bit guilty and confused. One of the guys looked at him and said,

"Hey, you're looking pretty rough (dog joke Fern's mind was filled with them), what happened?" The very confused and guilty French gentleman replied with something along the lines of,

"I got very drunk, and I believe I fucked a dog (but in old-timey French)." The rest of the group of French gentleman began laughing hysterically at that and that became an inside joke between them. It first became a comparison to other unfortunate things.

"You cheated on your wife?" Said a random French gentleman. "Well, at least you didn't screw the pooch." But it soon just became the phrase for when someone messed up, amongst that group of friends.

"Oh, you've got your penis stuck in a statue? Well, you really screwed the pooch there." Another old long-dead Frenchman most likely said.

Somewhere between thoughts of old-timey Frenchmen sitting at a lunch table, and dicks being stuck in statues hysteria began to fill Fern and that, of course, leads to laughter. The only problem with Fern's slight mental break was that it was in the middle of a pop quiz. Fern's mind, however, did not care about the setting and he continued laughing. So much so that he leaned over the side of his desk his fist banging on the surface. This attracted, even more, attention towards him. A part of Fern understood the dire need to end his laughter, but the words 'screwed the pooch' resurfaced and he only laughed harder.

"Mr. Olivarez is there an issue?" Miss. Clarkson said, her steely serious teacher voice cutting sharply into his laughter. Fern looked up at her trying to cease his laughter. His hand came up wiping fat tears away from his eyes, the other hand clenching his sore stomach.

"Nothing Miss. Clarkson just screwing the pooch on this test." He snorted out. The shock on Miss. Clarkson's face was enough to stop him. There as a tense moment of silence where Fern had to come to terms to the fact that he had just told a teacher, an adult, that he was 'screwing the pooch' on the pop quiz that was given to him. There was a burst of laughter from all the way in the front of the room.

Fern turned his head quickly to see a boy standing by the open door of the classroom. Seconds after the boy began laughing it was followed by a wave of the rest of the teenagers in the classroom laughing as well. Fern wasn't sure if it was with or at him, but he just thanked whoever he needed to that it took some of the edges away from Miss.Clarkson's face.

Fern took a moment to look at the face of his savior. He had to admit at first glance he didn't seem like much. He had dark wavy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. He was wearing a graphic t-shirt with some random design underneath a flannel shirt. His pants were fitted, but he was not at any angle that Fern could assess the assets. Then the usual converse shoes, if Fern was being honest he looked like a mix between a skater kid, and a regular guy. The only thing specifically interesting about him, at least from that distance was that his lips were tinted some color. It looked like his girlfriend had just given him a quick kiss before he came to the room. But all reasons aside Fern would rate him at worst a 9/10, at best a 10/10 if he had any business judging his looks.

"Hush hush, there is still a quiz out." Miss. Clarkson said waving her hand. She put a hand on her lip looking back at Fern with a puzzled look that everyone seemed to be giving him lately. "And you, you barely talk in my class and with the work you hand in it's like you're not here either." She shook her head, Fern winced inwardly he could feel the disappointment ebbing off of her. "You go and say things like that and now I guess I have to notice you huh?" There was a bit of humor in her voice but her face still looked confused and even disappointed. She shook her head and walked away from Fern towards the boy by the door. Fern watched her go not even bothering to look at her back, he felt too crummy for that.

"Ten more minutes." Miss. Clarkson called out from over her shoulder. Fern looked at his blank paper and reframed from mumbling something that included the term 'screwed the pooch'. He only half listened to the conversation between the boy and Miss. Clarkson. Something about carrying history books to another classroom and something else about more quizzes for the honors class. Either way, the conversation ended with the boy being told to sit tight in the empty seat next to Fern and Miss.Clarkson shouting that the quiz taking time was over. This resulted in the usual, make sure there's a date, put your first and last name, don't forget the period, and put down the pencils. Fern couldn't help but think that he was one step ahead of her, his pencil had been down for most of the period.

Miss. Clarkson personally came to collect each paper her eyes doing a quick scan over the students work making strange sounds from her mouth (which included hmm, huh, mhm, oh? and Fern's personal favorite ooh?). Fern's stomach steadily dipped lower and lower into his shoes as the teacher came closer and closer. He could see out of his peripheral the ponytail kid looking over his shoulder and looking at his paper.

"Dude not a single answer down?" The kid whistled quietly at that. Fern felt vaguely annoyed, he felt like an honors skater kid had no right judging his paper. "Number four is Marie Antoinette by the way." He followed up with, his voice friendlier than Fern was comfortable with. Fern out of either dumb pride, or arrogance even he didn't understand, did not write down what skater kid suggested for him to do. When the teacher came around to him she took one big dramatic step next to his desk. She picked up the paper and looked at it, then she turned to look at Fern, back to the paper, finally resting on Fern. Fern for once actually felt nervous about his lack of trying. He was very well acquainted with the typical pick up a blank paper sign and moving on a technique that most teachers were okay with following. But thanks to the whole 'screwed the pooch' fiasco, things were apparently different.

"For the first question you actually just rewrote the question, but in French. So it's fair to say that I'm not giving you points for that." Miss. Clarkson said carefully like she was breaking the foreign news to him. She looked over the paper some more. "Some of these you actually got right. But, you erased them. Why?" She looked at him a small frown on her face. Fern searched through his brain for a reasonable response that wasn't I don't know.

"I thought it was wrong." He added a shrug at the end for good effect, really selling the whole dummy act (that wasn't actually an act). She sighed sticking around his desk for longer than Fern thought was necessary.

"Your last name is Olivarez?" She asked, actually pronouncing it properly instead of just saying, Oliver. Fern nodded becoming tense with this drawn-out interaction. "Are you by any chance related to Rodriguez Olivarez?" She asked her voice going up an octave. Fern frowned at that and nodded slowly. It was so rare anyone ever asked him if he was related to someone else, most out of fear of seeming racist.

"He's my cousin. How do you...know him?" Fern asked slowly. Miss. Clarkson almost immediately looked more lively then she had before.

"Rodo Oli! When I was still a student teacher a lot of my credit came from tutoring college students who needed help. Rodo was one of them, he was awful at school but he was so committed that we actually got him from a C to a B student." Fern nodded he was mildly interested, mostly not. He had gotten this speech from his parents enough. How Rodo was even worse at school then Fern was (how he had no idea), but through dedication and hard work he had graduated high school and was almost done with college. "This makes your grade in this class even stranger." She paused looking at him, his knowledge of social cues told him this was a dramatic pause meant for him to ask a follow question. He, however, had no interest in continuing this conversation so he remained silent.

"Why?" A voice next to him asked instead, Fern didn't have to turn around to know that it was the skater kid. Miss. Clarkson gave him an odd look and looked back at Fern.

"Well, one of the huge huge reasons he did so well was because he had such a strong support group. He'd often talk about his Uncle and Aunt." If Fern could have paled he would have, pale enough to be considered Irish or at least Italian.

"Oh?" Fern choked out, he was attempting to swallow spit down the wrong pipe. He was hoping he could choke and at best go to the nurse's office, and at worse die (he'd take either at that point). Miss.Clarkson nodded pulling out her phone from the back of her skirt (the strange part was that her skirt even had pockets).

"Are your parents aware of your current grade in my class?" She asked turning on the phone. With each movement of her fingers, Fern felt like he was being stabbed. He was suddenly hyper-aware of how many people were watching him, the entire class plus dudebro kid in fact.

"Uh to a degree." He mumbled as he feared her phone made a familiar ringing as it waited to be put through to the other color. "Miss. Clarkson pl--"

"Hola this is Maria Olivarez speaking, who is this?" Fern sunk lower in his seat with every word uttered by her. Her familiar sweet tone was accented with the just thick enough Spanish accent that came from years of speaking it the language.

"Hello, Mrs.Olivarez this is Carey Clarkson speaking." She said in a warm friendly voice. It made Fern sick. There was a gasp from the other end and a flurry of Spanish words.

"Carey! It's been so long amiga!" His mother yelled from over the phone mixing Spanish and English. Miss. Clarkson chuckled a bit, she seemed genuinely happy to hear from his mom. Fern couldn't give less of a shit, he wished he came from a culture known as witches or voodoo.

"Oh, it's only been about a month." That sentence sent a shiver down Fern's spine, his home and school life merging was something he had nightmares about. "But unfortunately chit-chatting isn't my reason for calling." She said her tone becoming more serious towards the end of the sentence.

"Is this about Rodo?" His mother sounded confused, Fern could only think of one or two episodes that his parents actually had to be contacted by the school.

"No, this is about your son? Fern, I'm very concerned about his future in my class." Fern was gripping onto his thigh tightly, he was almost positive if he didn't bite his lip he might start begging for his teacher to end the call.

"Fernando? He better not is getting bullied, because I have no qualms about smacking a few juniors." His mother said with an almost scary calm voice that even made Fern scared. Fern was vaguely aware of a few kids mumbling about how they didn't know Fern had a full name.

"No no! Nothing like that, just he's failing my class. By a pretty hefty margin." There was a pause of silence over the phone, even the children in his class were silent.

"With?" Miss. Clarkson shook her head slightly like debating if it would be too dramatic to say he's grade.

"Below a fifty." She managed slowly, there was a loud dramatic gasp. The next words that came from her mouth were in such rapid Spanish Fern had trouble translating.

"Is he there?" She asked in her attempt at a steely intimidating voice. It was very intimidating but her voice was too pitchy to possible go low enough. Miss.Clarkson looked at Fern with something pretty close to regretting. The phone was handed to him, as soon as he held the thin phone he felt like he had to drop it. Like putting a twenty-pound weight to his ear, his arm shook.

"Mama..." He said in a small voice his eyes squeezing closed. The next portion of the conversation consisted of loud angry Spanish, on his mother half. Weak Si's and no's on Fern's half. The conversation ended with Fern's mother saying in clear English; "I'm telling your father." and the phone was hung up. Fern was almost in a state of shock, there were so many layers of embarrassment and horror that he had to slowly digest.

"Now. Fern we can figure out something, your parents can come and...Fern?" Fern didn't let her finish her sentence, he was up and out of his seat stuffing his papers into his backpack. Fern blocked out whatever else Miss.Clarkson was attempting to say to him. He shook his arm out of her grip when she tried to touch him.

His steps were heavy and fast as he walked out of the room, he didn't dare look back. If he had he was almost positive he would have yelled some incoherent Spanish mess that'd make his Uncle blush. He could feel the warmth of anger heating his face and body up. He was sure if he walked outside his steps would melt the sloppy sleet left by snowfall. He became aware of footsteps following behind him, they were lighter but he could hear the slap of hard converse rubber on the floor.

"Whoever it is I'm really not in the fucking mood right now." The halls were clear, it was only the middle of the period.

"You never seem in the mood for anything." A familiar voice said behind him. He clenched his own fists and already knew his face was a blotchy angry dull red.

"Fuck off." He said plainly, heading in any direction away from the following person following him.

"Hey maybe--" He felt a hand on his shoulder. He reacted on pure instinct. He turned his eyes clenched closed and pushed whoever was behind him hard on the shoulder. The hand fell off his shoulder. He pushed down any other feelings he had and quickened his pace away his head tilted down to the ground even when he opened his eyes. He found himself near running outside through the open lunchroom door. The only semi-lucky thing that happened to him all day was he made his escape during a lunch period.

He looked around ignoring any potential looks he was getting. He looked over to a garden near the back of the lunch area. He nearly threw himself at the upright snowman his head colliding with the snowy head of the snowman. The second lucky thing to happen to him was that the snow that the snowman was made of, was mushy and cold. Rather than hard and compact like most snowmen were made of. He ended up just smashing the head, a light layer of wet snow covering his head, quite literally cooling him off.

With the coldness, the remnants of his anger subsided, and the forthcoming of his douchiness was next on the list of shitty emotions. It was like his body was in numb emotional shock. He didn't know which emotion to deal with first. The embarrassment of his mother screams in Spanish at him in the middle of history class, amongst people who most likely thought he was strange anyway. Or the shame that came with being the only child of his parents, and being a shitty one at that. Or the amount of douchebaggery he felt at pushing whatever kid was trying to help him. He opted to combine all three emotions in a sad self-pity session, where he groaned audibly into the decapitated head of a snowman.

The near freezing temperature of the snow was the only thing that pulled him away from his self-pity session. That, and the fact he looked incredibly desperate to the onlookers surrounding him. He somehow felt shittier than before as soon as he moved his head away. His brain felt like it was dying, despite that he vaguely wondered if it was possible to have outward brain freezes. Or if that was just called hypothermia.

He took a decent amount of time rubbing his head in an attempt to try and bleed warmth back into his brain. Eventually, the bell rang again, he knew he barely addressed running out of history. If he missed his next class they would most likely report him as missing. He adjusted his almost heavier bag on his back and trudged to school. Dragging his feet through the melting snow.

Fern made it through the rest of the day using a mix of acting like a zombie and zoning out to more pleasant thoughts. When school ended he entirely expected to receive a message or a call from his mom. Either telling him that he had to come home immediately, or that they were going to trade him for a packing mule. But neither scenarios played out and he was left carefully walking to Drama. Putting his phone on vibrate just in case he received any particularly sudden rings.

As soon as he stepped into the auditorium room he was almost glad that he made it through the entire day. On the main stage his favorite person of the opposite gender was singing some song from the musical that was being performed. He had to admit she looked especially beautiful with the dress she was wearing on that particular day. It wasn't quite yet a dress rehearsal but it was important to wear clothes that resembled the performance wear. Mostly to prepare for the fluidity of the outfits, so said Ani. When it came to musical knowledge her word was law and he gladly followed.

Fern didn't move away from his spot in the front of the auditorium until Ani's segment of the song was over. She was surprisingly light on her feet, and she worked decently well with the male lead. Which was to Fern's detriment. He stepped away from the doors of the room and followed the downward staircase to the back of the stage. The rest of the prop and set people were already busy in the with their own separate projects. Fern made his way to the back of the room, in the nook he typically shared with Ani. His bag thudded to the ground, just reminding him of how much homework he had to not complete that night.

He almost wanted to wait until he saw Ani come backstage to begin, but concluded it would be a bit awkward just sitting and watching others work. He rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt and grabbed paint. He laid out the backdrop that he had begun painting the day before. He used black paint to follow the pencil outline that he had helped to trace out. He kept his work simple and clean. He was certainly no artist, he could only put his best foot forward and hope for the best. He looked at his reference picture and the backdrop making sure that the two images still matched up properly.

Thirty minutes of mindless painting he heard the door close to the prop room squeak annoying as it only did when opened slow. Fern turned to scowl at whichever dumbo didn't get his ass in and out of prop room when he spotted a very familiar face. Ordinarily, that would be enough to brighten his mood to sunglass levels, but his day was too shitty to be raised just by a gorgeous face.

A selfish needy part of him just wanted Ani to waltz over to him, ask him why he looks down. Hug, cheer him up, and then take him to an even smaller storage room and 'cheer him up'. He wondered if those thoughts were too intense for a crush--yes--but in his mind, that was beside the point. He wanted to be coddled like a kid, he knew for a fact that his mother would be far from hugging and kissing him. As Ani walked towards him he didn't say his usual lame hi, hello, his own mini cry for help. He just looked at her, and she looked back....then she looked away from him and walked right past him.

Fern nearly had to do a step by step replay of that moment to actually believe it. A good rational part of him understood that, if he didn't say a greeting she probably wouldn't say a greeting back. But the irrational (dominant) side of his mind was outraged that she hadn't learned to telepathically know what he needed at that moment. He heard a door close next to him. He turned only there he noticed another door, that most likely lead to a smaller room in plain sight. Fern really didn't know how to continue from there so instead he continued painting. Slower this time, waiting for anything to come from the door.

More time passed but eventually, the door opened and Ani stepped out in high waisted green shorts, and a blue sleeveless fitted tank top that showed the side of her bra. Fern was sad to admit that seeing her shoulders turned him on, even just a little bit. He wondered if she liked to be touched on the shoulders. And if she did if it was in an erotic sense, or just love a good shoulder massage type touch.

"You look like you rolled out of the wrong side of the dumpster," Ani said blatantly, both of her hands in her pocket her thumbs sticking out. Her body was leaning back, making her look cooler than she already needed to be.

"All you need is sunglasses." He mumbled to himself.

"What?" Ani asked her voice higher in confusion. He shook his head and waved the paint brush.

"Nothing." He said and touched the top of his head. It had just occurred to him that the mushy snow ruined his typically well put together hair. Not to mention the snow left a dark stain on the front of his sweatshirt. Ani looked at him silently for a moment, she took a step towards him and pushed back his back hair the right way. Fern barely moved, wanting her hand to linger in his wavy hair. "Why did you change outfits? That's kinda of dumb." He said instead of a compliment that would have guaranteed him some sort of affectionate responses.

"You know what else is dumb?" Ani asked back, close enough for Fern to feel the warmth ebbing off of her.

"Me."

"You." They said both lines at the same time. The tips of Ani's lips curled just a bit in an almost smile. "And painting in a dress."

"Oh yeah, why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you're not the brightest," Ani said blatantly. She reached over for the paint brushes her hand stretching over the still wet paint on the backdrop. Fern decided to change his strategy. He easily grabbed the brush and offered it to Ani.

"You looked great in the dress by the way." Ani can snatch the brush without a thank you Fern noted.

"It's my sisters."

"Why were you wearing your sister's dress?" Fern asked, trying not to be deterred by Ani's mood.

"Just what I picked up today." Ani turned away from him a bit using her left hand to dip the brush into the green paint.

"Well, the dress looked good."

"I'll be sure to tell my sister that," Ani mumbled leaning on her knees on the board. Fern immediately felt stupid.

"You look good in the dress...I mean." Fern mumbled trying to amend the previous statement.

"I'll make sure to only wear that dress then." Fern groaned inwardly, another screw-up.

"Your body looks good in the dress. I mean like it looks good all the time....and now and uh..." Fern's brain froze trying to figure out what to conclude with. 'You have the best ass in the world' seemed a little shallow even for his taste.

"How often do you stare at my body?" Ani said with a touch of some emotion that Fern's mind couldn't decode. An alarm bell rang in his head. Did she know about him looking? Was she offended? Is she upset? How did he screw up this time?

"Um..." Ano let out a loud sigh and put the green brush down. She looked at him arms crossed.

"Fern, level with me here. Are you bipolar or something?" The question took him aback a bit. He already knew the answer to that question, but it took him a moment to process why he was being asked.

"Uh no?" He said slowly.

"The why-- ugh" Ani rubbed at her eyes furiously smudging whatever eye makeup that was on them. Fern-like with most things didn't know what to do. What were their boundaries? Fern slowly inched closer to her. When she didn't move away he brought his arms around her body and hugged Ani closer to his body. As a safety precaution, he banished every impure thought he had, in favor of a large white bunny to keep him cool.

"Bad day?" He mumbled against Ani's hair. She just nodded her head silent for a moment.

"Biggest understatement of the century," Ani mumbled against his shoulder. Something about the pathetic way Ani said that forced a chuckle from Fern.

"Bigger than when the principal said that the Holocaust was kinda sucky?" Ani moved a bit away from him and looked at him chuckling.

"Maybe somewhere in between that and when he said that it was only a little cold outside the other day." They both smiled and laughed a bit more at that.

"Fuck I remember that we were all locked out. I really needed to piss." Fern refinanced. Ani rolled her eyes at him still smiling.

"How could you need to perform any other bodily functions when you were freezing?" Fern noticed Ani seemed more relaxed, he reluctantly pulled his arms away from her.

"I couldn't! I'm half sure the piss was frozen in my dick." He blushed as soon as he saw the disturbed look on Ani's face.

"Doesn't liquid expand and shit?" Fern shrugged placing the brush on the floor next to him.

"I mean I guess, ice and stuff."

"Then wouldn't your...." Ani showered immediately disgusted. "
Nevermind let's not think about your dick exploding." Fern scrunched his nose in horror his hand edging towards his pants.

"Why did you say it out loud then! What even made you think about that??" He asked looking at Ani who was becoming more and more flustered by the second. Her pale skin portraying her embarrassment perfectly.

"I mean science was last period and water molecules--and like I don't know! The hole you pee out of his so small and I jus--" Fern waved his hand in front of her face.

"So, in short, you were thinking of my dick?" The thought both turned him on and scared him. Was his dick even worth thinking about? He'd have to check some other time. Ani blushed deeper putting one hand on her shorts.

"Oh, that is so unfair!" She looked around like she was making sure no one was listening to them. "Besides you can't tell me you haven't thought about my dick. At least once!" Ani said in a hushed fast voice. Fern let out a snort of a laugh, happy for once that his darker skin tone covered his blush.

"You mean your imaginary one?" Fern asked earning a scoff from Ani.

"Oh aren't you cute? But you can't tell me that thought never occurred to you."

"No Ani, the thought of my dick exploding because of ice mass has never crossed my mind." Fern said shaking his head. Ani crossed her arms like she didn't actually believe his mind had never gone to that.

"Well, maybe I'm the only one concerned about your dick's well being in that case."

"I'd beg to differ, I think I'm the running man in Fern Dickness Protection." They were both silent, letting the words fall between them. There was a squeak akin to a hyena howl as Ani hunched over. Fern's eyes widened as if Ani was actually in pain, or possessed, or worse.

"I fucking hate that those words came out of your mouth!" She said in a too loud voice gaining the attention of a few other tech crew kids close enough to hear (which was all of them). As soon as Fern understood he began laughing with Ani, less hysterically.

"Don't laugh, I have to protect the goods. I can't just tell my future girlfriend, sorry my junk exploded!"

"Shh!" Ani laughed tears actually falling from her eye. She put her hand on his shoulder pushing her. "Fern Dickne--" Fern put his hand over her mouth shushing her loudly. He laughed into her wavy hair trying not to act as insane as he probably seemed. Ani's body slumped against him both their bodies shaking with laughter. When Ani seemed to have her act together Fern removed his hand from her face. She moved away from him using her elbow and wiping away tears.

"So, how do I join? Are badges involved?" She asked her voice softer than before but still tinged with giggles.

"I'll have to ask my dick when we have some time alone." As soon as Fern said it he once again wished he had. "Alone time meaning...not that more like...when others aren't around." He mumbled hating how amused Ani seemed as his stumblings.

"Well," Ani drew out the well longer than Fern thought was necessary. "Dicks aside, we got nothing done." Fern scoffed and pointed at the backdrop.

"I think you meant you got nothing done." Ani rolled her eyes.

"Whatever frozen dick, but we seriously have like four more of these to do. And not enough time."

"Too much stuff and not enough space?" Fern said immediately before Ani could say any more.

"Excuse me?" Ani said pushing her to overlook of the backdrops they needed to complete to look at him.

"Uh, it's from a commercial," Fern mumbled a bit shyly, Ani obviously watched some higher power of televisions that only sassy angels were allowed to watch.

"I fucking know where it was from, I was just wondering why you'd remember it well enough to make a reference." She paused shaking her head. "A commercial of all things." Fern's lips upturned into a small smirk. He stood up and looked around.

"Too much stuff and not enough space?" He put his arms out gesturing to the boards. "All this stuff can be so overwhelming!" He said in a dramatic telemarketer voice. He stepped over to a plastic bag on the floor picking it up. "That's why now, I stuff all my shit in a plastic bag and vacuum the air out."

"Is that product poorly named Space Bags by any chance?" Ani asked. Fern smiled wider and nodded.

"Yup now with my Sparing ring." He stuck out his pinkie and his thumb using his hand as a phone. He put his hand to his ear. "Y'ello?" Ani stood up arms crossed.

"Who yah talking too?" Fern looked at her like he was unsure.

"Uh.....Jake. From State Farm?" Ani scoffed and pretended to take the phone.

"And what are you wearing, Jake from State Farm?" Fern cupped his hands over his mouth.

"Uhh, Khakis?" Ani pretended to put the phone down.

"Well, she sounds hideous?" He said in a huffy voice. Fern uncupped his mouth.

"Well....she's a he so..." Ani rolled her eyes huffing more dramatically.

"I swear to God if you don't get your act together you'll be just like Sour Patch Kids." Fern nearly broke character, he stifled his laugh and cleared his throat.

"Sour, sweet....and joined by another pack of addictive sour patch kids?" Ani stepped closer right in his face.

"No. Sour. Sweet. Gone. Or my version, sour, sweet, and out of a loving relationship."

"Well, you can't leave because I have something you don't have." Ani cocked her head.

"And what might that be?" Fern gestured for her to get even closer. She did her best without full body contact. Fern got close to her ear and in a low whisper he said:

"Well....do you... Got Milk?." Ani snorted and stepped back, she covered her mouth and shook her head.

"Does that even count as a real commercial?"

"Maybe, maybe not. But I can see why you're the female lead." Ani shrugged blushing at the comment.

"You weren't too shabby yourself. I mean not many people talk in commercials."

"Well it's kind of like dirty talk....but for losers." Fern clarified, wondering if that was even worse than the Fern Dickness Protection (or the FDP).

"Dirty talk for losers?" Ani said slower. She shrugged bending to kneel back down. "Well, I can't disagree with that. I don't think many people watch enough commercials anymore to remember shit like that." Fern scoffed and knelt down with her.

"Well Saturday morning cartoons were my shit, so I endured all the awful commercials." He said with a hint of pride. Ani chuckled slightly at that.

"My favorite commercials were the skittle ones," Ani said shrugging dipping her paintbrush back in the paint.

"Are skittles your favorite candy?" Fern asked ready to store that information in his Things About Ani folder. Ani shook her head leaning over the board and wiping the green on the backdrop.

"Nope, when I was younger I used to scream taste the rainbow at neighbors." Fern burst out into a chuckle, an image of a little girl screaming at passers-bys popped into his head.

"Why the fuck?"

"I just liked the fact that I was telling people to taste the gay," Ani said shrugging. Fern paused and realized that Ani was every bit right.

"Well, I never thought about it that way," Fern admitted now taking the time to think back to the many times he had seen the commercial.

"Well, you thought about it wrong. I don't even like skittles but I'll fucking support their product until the day I die." Fern rolled his eyes at that. Ani looked at him frowning slightly. "Have a problem with gayness do you?" Fern raised an eyebrow at her.

"Nope none at all, but I do have a problem with people who don't like skittles." It was Ani's turn to raise her eyebrows in confusion. "Did I st--"

"Okay, we have ten minutes left to give it your best work guys," Mr.Seppe called out, peeking into the prop room from behind the stage door. Fern shrugged then turned to look at Ani who seemed more shell-shocked. Her mouth was open slightly and her shoulders slumped.

"Fern! You distracted me asshat!" Ani grumbled loud enough for the rest of the room to hear (that is if the rest of the room hadn't long learned to drown them out) Fern put a hand to his chest and scoffed.

"Me? You're the one distracting me with your..." Beautiful hair, amazing personality, interesting personality, nicely formed ass and body, were all things that almost flooded out of Fern's mouth. He controlled himself at the last minute. "Everything-ness." He mumbled trying not to blush. "Besides you came out of onstage practice later than usual."

"Yeah that's what happens when it gets closer to opening night and I can't even fucking sing Someone in the Crowd," Ani said a hint more real frustration in her voice than before. Fern paused unsure what to say to that. Ani took a moment taking a couple breaths and rubbing her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Fern asked before he barely got the words out Ani replied.

"I'm fine." She said shortly. Ani took another moment before looking at him, giving him a small smile like she was trying to console him. "Okay, why don't we finish these backdrops at one of our houses?" Fern was surprised how level she sounded already, he nodded not thinking too deeply about it.

"Yeah, uh my Dad has a pickup truck...I can put the backdrop on the back." Fern offered, he cringed a bit thinking of his dad's old pickup truck. "He usually uses it for work, but if I tell him a pretty girl needs my help he'll make an exception." Fern was amused to notice a light blush blossom across Anna's face.

"Um, that's good enough for me. Just...lets exchange info, is tomorrow okay?" Ani asked looking down away from him to grab her phone. Fern told her his number and waited for her to finish writing it down. Fern felt a buzzing on his phone. He opened the message only to see one word from his father, Here.

"Uh, my dad's here." He mumbled, feeling the ominousness of the single word that was probably backed up with anger and disappointment.

"Okay, I'll help you carry some boards to your car." Ani leaned over pulling some out of the pile to carry.

"Don't worry I'll use all my man muscles to carry those heavy pieces of cardboard." He said picking up the backdrops closest to him. Ani gave him a deadpanned look and grabbed the rest of the backdrops.

"I guess your man muscles must be next to my imaginary dick," Ani said standing next to him. "Don't you understand teenage code?" Ani asked cocking her head. Fern looked at her blankly trying to understand whatever code she was talking about.

"Huh?" Ani rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Just lead me to your dad's car genius." Fern looked at Ani still confused, he shrugged and turned back away. He slung his bag over one shoulder.

"Well fine, Miss.Imaginary Dick." He mumbled leading her out of the auditorium and to the front of the school where his father's car was parked outside leaning against the door. Fern was suddenly glad Ani was walking with him, saving him from the full force of his father's look.

"That your dad?" Ani asked walking through the door that Fern held upon for him. Fern nodded his gaze already turned down. Ani nodded back silent as they walked closer to Sebastian Olivarez. Fern finally looked up to see a much softer look on his father face.

"This your friend?" He asked, his head jerking slightly towards Ani. Fern looked at Ani for a moment panicking not actually sure if they qualified as friends.

"Yes, I am sir, Ani Begay." She balanced the boards on her hip and stuck out a hand. Sebastian took her hand shaking the beginnings of a smile on his face.

"Strong handshake there girlie." He said after letting go. Ani gave him a proud smile and shrugged.

"Well someone has to have a strong grip on this relationship," Ani said tilting her head towards Fern. Fern's cheeks darkened and he huffed under his breath.

"I dropped a paint bucket one time and--"

"And it's probably one of the reasons why we're behind on backdrop painting." Ani finished for him. Fern rolled his eyes and looked back at his dad.

"Can Ani come over tomorrow after school to finish up some of these backdrops?" Sebastian looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Well...I wouldn't mind as long as it's just for the play" He said a hint of obscurity in his voice. Fern felt like facepalming, of course, his father would think that his son had enough social skills to try anything with another living breathing Human. Another way he was disappointing his poor family.

"It's only Wednesday? Oh, f-faked imperialism." Fern would have told her that it was a nice save but he was too busy wondering in what context you'd use faked imperialism. "I swear I'll be driven to think I have pencil's sprouting out of my back by the end of this week." Fern figured that Ani hadn't realized that his father and he were listening to his random mumble.

"Well before you both get worked up I want to make it clear that, Fernando will be spending most of his time completing all of his missed school work by next week." Fern's eyes widened and he looked at his father.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, you are not finishing your Junior year with a failing grade." Fern felt the familiar embarrassment from earlier, he was hoping the news of his identity would stay away from the one girl he was trying to impress.

"Don't worry Mr. Olivarez if Fernando needs any help with a paper, he can set it aside and I'll help. He'll have all his work done by this time next week guarantee." Ani said with an award-winning smile, the type that got a politician elected. Fern's father seemed to eat up, nodding with a bit of a smile.

"Well I can only hope, why don't you two load up the boards. Fern and I have a landscaping job to head to." Fern cringed, was there any more embarrassing things that his father wanted to share with the rest of the world?

"Of course." Ani walked to the end of the truck Fern following. Sebastian Olivarez went to sit in the driver's seat. At the back, the truck Fern spoke in a low quick whisper.

"Which God is going to possess me to miss all the work I didn't do within a week?"

"Which God possessed you to make you not complete a week's worth of work?" Ani whispered leaning over and placing the boards in.

"The God called my attention span, sue me."

"Maybe I will, my mom's a lawyer don't tempt me."

"A lawyer huh? No wonder where that smile came from." Ani looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What smile?"

"You know the one." He smiled dramatically wide. "I am so nice and sweet, and honest. I totally don't swear, and have a horrible set of morals and ethics." He said through clenched teeth. Ani rolled her eyes and watched Fern put his boards in.

"Fine next time I'll tell him we fucked, I'm two months pregnant, and you've been ignoring school because you're concerned about the health of our baby!" She said too loudly rubbing her flat stomach.

"Shh." Fern laughed, a finger pressed to his lips. Ani smiled and put both hands on her stomach.

"Well father of my unborn child, I'll see you tomorrow." She turned around and began walking off quickly without Fern's returned gestured.

"Bye!" He yelled back hoping she'd hear from a few feet away. She turned back as she neared the door and waved before disappearing inside. A few seconds after she left Fern made his way to the car door slowly opening it. His father's arms were crossed and he was looking ahead.

"You are so lucky that was the first friend you brought home in awhile you little--" He shook his head and started the car. Fern let out a relieved breath and climbed inside buckling himself in.

"Mama's pissed huh?"

"Don't swear, and yes. She was ready to cook your little culo over the fire pit tonight." He said in a serious tone. Fern shivered not wanting to imagine his mother in devil horns watching him burn.

"But now?"

"But now, I convinced her into making you do some good old manual labor." Fern's eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

"You're going to send me to a ranch!" Fern said in horror his whole body tensing. Sebastian looked at his son confused until his face relaxed into realization.

"What? No no." He shook his head and started the car, pulling out of the school.

"But you said that when grandpapi punished you he sent you to a ranch and--" Sebastian waved bringing the sentence to a close.

"Relax relax." He mumbled something about his crazy son. "You're just going to help me with some landscaping." He clarified, Fern's entire body relaxed and he rested his head against the car seat. "But no pay." Fern frowned and looked at him quickly, trying to stop himself from complaining. Sebastian looked at him and scoffed. "Either no pay or your mother cooks you. Choose wisely nino." Fern sighed and crossed his arms.

"Fine, landscaping it is." He muttered to himself looking out the window. "I'd probably taste good." He said to himself.

"What was that?" Sebastian asked, leaning over towards his son.

"Just listing the pro's and con's of becoming a sex slave again." He said louder than necessary.

"Make sure you add, evading taxes to the pro list." Fern pretended to take out a pen.

"Do they even get paid at all?" Fern asked turning to Sebastian. Sebastian shrugged and looked straight ahead taking a familiar turn into a nice neighborhood.

"You'll have to tell me when you become one." Fern nodded in agreement, then felt a buzzing from his pocket. He pulled out his phone from his pocket sliding up to see the message from the strange number.

<4376633142: Hey it's Ani I just wanted to make sure this was the right number. If this isn't, feel free to just ignore this lol>

Fern found it weird that she actually took the time to use a period in a text.

<Me: Hey yeah it's me Fern>

<4376633142: Oh I'm sorry must be a wrong number. I only know a Fernando sorry for wasting your time bye.>

<Me: I'm rolling my eye btw>

<4376633142: Eye? Only one of them? You really are a man of many talents>

<Me: *eyes srry>

<4376633142: Wow is this what texting another human being is like? What a wild experience, thank you for taking this journey with me>

<Me: I can't tell if you're being sarcastic rn>

<4376633142: What I can't tell is why you seem to care enough to add an apostrophe to your contractions, but you can't spell out the word sorry. Do you just get really big hard-ons for contractions but you hate simple words like sorry?>

<Me: ...>

<Me: Y are your texts paragraphs I feel like I'm in English class>

<Me: Also 1 words spell check>

<4376633142: *two words>

<Me: What?>

<4376633142: Spell check is two words, just wanted to let you know dude. And I'm sorry if my texts offend you, I will duly make that a note on my phone>

<Me: Is this more sarcasm?>

Ani proceeded to send him a screenshot of him leaving a memo on his phone about long paragraphs. Fern scoffed and chuckled a bit. Sebastian looked over then back again.

"Who are you texting?"

"A friend." Fern said quickly.

"Fern, so far I only know of one so I'm assuming you're texting a girl. Am I wrong?" Fern pretended not to pay attention for a moment.

"Huh? Sorry too busy with teenage stuff, try again next time." Sebastian rolled his eyes and stared back at the road.

<4376633142: By the way, what is my name on your phone?>

<Me: Just your number>

<4376633142: EXCUSE YOU? I have not carried your child for this long only to be not given a proper name on your cellular device!>

<Me: You better not keep saying that or someone will think I knocked you up>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: I mean you can't please everyone now can you?>

<Me: But you can prevent them from thinking you're pregnant>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: Well that's subjective. Anyway, the real question is how did you manage to get more than a week's worth of unfinished assignments?>

<Me: Idk I kinda zone out and shit during tests>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: Gimmie an example.>

<Me: During a history test today I was thinking about how the French probs started the term Screwed the Pooch bc they're weird>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: I'm part French, but good thing I don't care. But anyway that's not where the phrase comes from.>

<Me: The where is it from?>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: Well basically some male Yale student in the Nasa space program whenever he messed up he'd yell 'I really fucked the dog'. Then everyone started saying it to mess with him, eventually, they changed it to 'Screwed the Pooch' because it sounded less like beastiality>

<Me:...>

<Me: Y the hell do u know that???>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: I didn't two minutes ago, it's called google yah dunce.>

<Me: :O>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: So why were you thinking of that phrase anyway?>

<Me: Idk just thinking about how I was gonna screw the pooch on that test>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: I screwed the pooch on my entire existence to be honest.>

<Me: I can relate I screw the pooch so many times that if the pooch was a person my dick would be stuck inside>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: The pooch is a dog, Fernando. Please do not talk about dicks and pooches in the same sentence. Unless you are planning on sewing my pooch then I'd suggest you reframe.>

<Me: When & where?>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: Back of a dumpster before school tomorrow. I'll keep my pooch vacant just for you.>

Fern knew that Ani was joking but every part of him wanted her to be completely serious.

<Me: See u then just warning u they call me the poochy slayer>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: Blocked>

<Me: But seriously thanks for being u you really unscrewed my pooch>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: Pooch meaning emotions?>

<Me: Ye>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: Well I'll unscrew your pooch anytime you need me too dude. That's what friends are for, unscrewing each other's pooches.>

<Me: So you're part of the Fern Dickness Protection Agency and my own personal pooch unscrewer?>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: Seems like it, and you used a comma am I already corrupting you?>

<Me: Whomst'd've?>

<Mother of my Unborn Child: Nevermind, blocked.>

<Me: Just in time we're coming up on the house now ttyl>

Fern shut off his phone reluctantly but still felt a warmth in his chest.

"Done?" Fern's father asked Fern, nodded bringing one foot up onto the car seat looking out the window.

"Yeah, we there yet?"

"Yeah, we're just finishing up the place we went to last time, okay Fern?" Fern nodded not fully paying attention as he looked outside seeing two familiar roaring lions.