"I take it neither of you still hasn't talked yet?"

April just had to mention it, for Roshon had walked past her and Pelham without much as a single glance, as though they were trees standing on one side of the cobblestoned path leading to the main entrance of their school. Apart from that, Roshon was walking with another one of his friends, whom Pelham recognised as one of the ICT students. Not that Pelham was expecting anything from Roshon - not even a nod of greeting. Neither of them had talked since the day after he came out to Roshon, which was more than a week ago.

If it was anything, Pelham thought that it was completely up to Roshon on whether he felt like sparing a word or two. After all - as much as he hated to admit the truth - Roshon was the one who was suddenly giving him the silent treatment. And he had a decent guess why.

Undeniably, their lack of interaction was beginning to twist his guts, like revolving a fork into a bowl of spaghetti. And he was nowhere near liking it. Roshon was his best friend. They'd had their faith in each other since their early adolescent years. Now, Pelham was having doubts. Had be been obscured by the vision that having Roshon as a best friend meant that he could tell him everything? What did he know about Roshon, really?

With that came the same question: What did Roshon know about Pelham, really?

"Not a word," Pelham said in response to April's question, watching Roshon laugh with his seemingly substituted friend as they stepped into the hall.

"And to think boys cool off easily," April sighed, shaking her head as she leaned back against the bench, folding up her knees to her chest as she did so.

"And to think your boyfriend is straight,"

April snorted. "That's pathetic. Your best friend is ignoring you 'cause you came out to him, now you're making jokes about yourself," she said, trying to suppress her laughter.

"Technically, I was making a joke about you. But that backfired, apparently,"

"Don't roast yourself,"

Pelham smiled. And it felt alien to feel the muscles in his cheeks contract just to pull the corners of his lips up into an expression that indicated he was feeling all right, that he was at least happy. It was considerably odd, he thought, how nearly the entire world depended on physical features to resolve to a conclusion, while only a handful of people could see through those masks as though they were glass windows. April was undeniably one of the handful.

Though, every now and then, Pelham couldn't resolve whether he was smiling just to convince himself or the people around him.

"Hey, you gonna talk to him?" April asked when Pelham was wallowed yet again into another dense silence.

Still not taking his eyes off the spot where Roshon had occupied a few minutes ago, he said, "He'll just come up with a reason to avoid me."

"Not your arse of a so-called best friend," April brought her forefinger and thumb to clench around Pelham's chin and turned his head to the other side, so he was now facing the school compound. His eyes immediately landed on Lucio, who was currently shrugging on his school blazer. "Your future spouse right over there."

"Oh, so now you think he and I are gonna get married and adopt kids?" Pelham said. "April, just because we're both gay, it doesn't mean we have a massive crush towards one another."

April didn't look the least bit convinced by the last statement. In fact, her eyebrows merely rose in scepticism. Then something seemed to pull her back from her fleeting realm. "Wait, 'we'?" she said, her eyes widening. "Not you and I, technically. You meant you and him. He's gay?"

Lying was going to be futile. Pelham felt like digging a six-feet deep hole right there to bury himself alive so as to fend off the discomfiture of his sudden blunder - if that was what he had to call it. Instead, all he did in response was bite down on his lower lip, as though being silent would solve the problem.

"I didn't say that," he said after a while, his eyes trained on Lucio, who seemed to be in a deep conversation with his friend. He just didn't assume it was his place to tell anyone regarding Lucio's sexual orientation; he didn't know whether the boy would bother should people know about him.

"You know," April started, "people say that just to find a way to deny their statements - which contain the truth."

"Fine,"

"Fine what?"

"What you said about him," said Pelham, finally focusing his attention on April, who had a smug grin plastered across her face.

"Definitely your future boyfriend, then?"

Pelham shot her an exasperated look. "He's not my type,"

April didn't even bother to cover up the mild stun on her face. "You have a type?" she said. "Apart from having a penis and all?"

Pelham had to bury his face in his palms to contain his laughter.

"C'mon," April urged when he didn't answer. "Tell me."

"Blond,"

"Blond?"

"Taller,"

"Taller?" she cocked an eyebrow. "Aren't you tall enough?"

"Everyone has types, April," he said reasonably. "Like you. What's your type?"

She shrugged. "Human," she said simply.

Pelham narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm not sure whether you're being straightforward or-"

"Not all humans are humans," she explained. "I meant a humane human."

"So you don't care if it's a girl?"

"I may be straight. But love doesn't have a type, Pel."

Pelham didn't know why, but his mind - almost as though it was working of its own accord - was somehow averted to the thought of Lucio. He simply couldn't steer his own cognition when it came to the younger boy. There was always something relatively enigmatic about it, causing him to feel as though he had been split into two Pelhams who were always having a dispute towards one another.

*

It didn't come as a surprise when Pelham entered the Chemistry lab later on to find Roshon sitting with another one of his friends, whose name Pelham never quite learned; Shane or Shawn? The only issue there was that the boy was occupying Pelham's stool. As peurile as it sounded, Pelham was instantly awash with envy at being substituted.

Being shunned out was one thing - it was downright comprehensible, and he had long since accepted it regardless of the seemingly interminable despair. But this just had to be getting under his skin. For the past few days since Pelham came out to his best friend, never did Roshon ever replace him with anyone else. Now Pelham assumed hell was finally beginning to trickle in, and today was simply Day One: Substituted.

He marched towards his usual bench where he shared with Roshon. The two boys didn't seem to notice his presence, however. Not until Pelham was standing directly under the ceiling lamps, casting a shadow upon them, did they look up with a pair of identical looks bearing mild surprise. Roshon, though, was quick to hide his stun with an impassive expression as he tilted his head back to look up at Pelham.

But Pelham was looking at the 'substitute', who looked like he was squirming in his seat. He took a deep breath before averting his gaze towards Roshon. "Where do I sit?"

"Uh ... at mine?" the boy interrupted.

"Why aren't you there?" Pelham was aware of the irk in his tone.

"'Cause I asked Shawn whether he wanted be my partner for today," Roshon eventually said, his tone casual as he straightened up in his seat. "He said 'yes'. Now here he is."

"He said you were absent, so ..." the boy - Shawn - added, trailing off afterwards.

Pelham could only shake his head, feeling beyond incredulous. You saw me this morning, he wanted to say. I know you saw me, but you just pretended I didn't exist. But he didn't feel like demeaning Roshon in front of anyone just yet. He wasn't that kind of person. Besides, he wasn't eight years old. He knew how to handle complicated situations, having had endured it since he was in his early adolescent years.

Patience is a virtue.

"Kindly take your seat, Mr Nixon," said the voice of Mr Enoch as soon as he heard the door close. "Class is about to begin."

"Do you want to ...?" Shawn began, gathering his files as he pushed back in his stool, about to give Pelham back his seat.

But Pelham stopped him. "Don't bother," he said.

Shawn allowed a look of sympathy cross his face. Pelham merely disregarded it before making his way to the very back of the class towards where Shawn was supposed to be sitting; next to a girl with a jetblack bob haircut who gave Pelham a reserved smile as he approached the bench.

Perhaps Pelham preferred to sit at the back with someone whom he wasn't entirely familiar with rather than with someone who only acknowledged his presence by a brief sweep of the eyes. Though, all the girl - Kiara, her name was - could talk about was the latest update about some Korean band that she was obsessed with. "I'm dedicated, not obsessed," she'd remarked in her defense. Pelham didn't suppose he could stand even a second sitting next to Roshon without the urge to strangle him. He would rather have a girl babble on about her obsession than anything to do with Roshon. He could practically taste the bitterness on his tongue.

Clearly, Roshon had lied to Shawn about Pelham not attending school. He was just trying to get away from Pelham, whatever the real cause was. If Roshon was simply homophobic, he was showing it in the most discreet way possible. At least Roshon wasn't ferocious. At least he doesn't have homicidal tendencies, thought Pelham in an attempt of a poor humour. As far as he was concerned, he was being substituted for who knew how long.

But two can play at that game.

That was how he found himself jogging towards Lucio the second he spotted him in the hallway later after class. At the moment, Lucio was standing with his back resting against his locker door, scrutinising at a piece of paper with both of his eyebrows drawn. Anyone seeing him would simply deduce that he was deep in thought. Pelham, having had tutored Lucio for more than a couple of occasions, knew Lucio was at a complete loss.

The more reason for Pelham to talk to Lucio.

"Digging your brains?" Pelham began as he approached Lucio, trying to get a good look on the other side of the paper that was causing the bafflement all over Lucio's face.

It took the boy two seconds longer than usual to respond. "Hmm?" he looked up and narrowed his eyes at Pelham as though Pelham was also some unsolved issue.

"You look thoughtful with that," Pelham jerked his head towards the paper in Lucio's hands.

"Printed Maths notes," said Lucio, waving it in the air dismissively. "Who the hell invented Binomial Theorem? Who did they think they were, to assume that the world is full of mathletes? No offense, Pelham."

"None taken,"

"The formulas are crap,"

"Your brain just doesn't want correspond, that's all,"

"Didn't know you can be this mean at disparaging my Maths skills,"

"Didn't know you have a vast vocabulary for someone who is a mild linguist,"

"Again with the degradation,"

A smirk crawled its way up to Pelham's lips, and he felt momentarily light, as though the earlier encounter with Roshon was suddenly washed away at the mere presence of Lucio.

"I have a free schedule this afternoon, in case you wanna come over for another Maths session," Pelham suggested. "My mum brings home junk food."

"Way to grow up as a healthy adult,"

"Is that a 'yes'?"

"I should pay you for this," Lucio said, pretending to look pensive. "But my 'budget' is running pretty low at the moment."

Pelham snorted. "Just pay me with kisses or something," he said without thinking.

Lucio flushed deep scarlet. "'Or something?'" he repeated, almost stuttering.

"Don't sweat it,"

"Fine," Lucio said. "What time?"

"Summertime,"

Lucio didn't look amused. "I'm leaving,"

Lucio hadn't even moved, but Pelham was already gripping his wrist. "Whenever you feel like it," he said. "Roshon did that - coming over without informing."

As if on cue, Pelham's eyes instantly landed on Roshon not far behind Lucio, who already had his attention trained on both of them. He wasn't with anyone, but he was still keeping his distance. Pelham couldn't resolve what emotion was currently being displayed there, for it looked somewhere between distaste and one other thing that he couldn't quite put a finger on.

"Okay," said Lucio. "I'll see you."

"Yeah," Pelham was still looking over Lucio's shoulder, locking gazes with Roshon. "I'll see you at my house."

The last sentence was completely inessential. It was also less than necessary to say it aloud and enunciate every syllable. Pelham couldn't help but feel triumphant when Roshon was the first one to break the eye-contact before stalking off in the other direction.

"Who are you looking at?" asked Lucio, causing Pelham to blink and focus his attention on him.

"Rosh,"

Lucio frowned. He glanced over his shoulder to look, but Roshon was nowhere in sight. "What happened to him?"

"Nothing."

"Really?" Lucio didn't look convinced. "I haven't seen you guys together lately. Something has to have happened."

"He's been busy, that's all," said Pelham. He didn't know why he was lying. He felt as though his brain was doing all the talking, leaving no room for free will.

Lucio merely blinked and tilted his head to the side. Cute, Pelham instantly thought. He pushed it away.

"You okay, Pelham?" Lucio asked slowly.

"Something on my face?"

"Apart from attractiveness? Yes. Gloom."

"Well," Pelham said, "that's how teenagers roll. Gloom and despondency and My Chemical Romance."