Listen To Iron Maiden Maybe With Me

He was right where everyone said he would be--hanging out behind the bleachers instead of fourth period.  Cash swallowed; this was his big chance.  He shoved his fists into the pockets of his letterman jacket, unsure of what else to do with them.

"H-hey, you're Angel, right?" he asked loudly.  He squinted when the metalhead didn't respond, only for his face to turn a bright red--Angel was wearing headphones.  Of course.  After another moment of awkward, he gather the courage to reach out and tap him on the shoulder with one of his massive hands.

"Hey."

Angel jumped and turned to face that annoying horror movie buff who had, somehow, managed to find his new hiding place yet again.

"For the last time--" he started, and then turned red as he realized it's not that kid after all. "O-oh! Uh...uhm."

And then, he realized who it was and he gets confused. Real confused.

"Oh...uhm, hey," he said, letting his headphones rest at his neck. They're huge, bulky, and have large metal spikes jutting out from them, much like Angel's signature leather jacket.

He cast a nervous glance around, half-expecting to find eavesdroppers. The coast was clear; every one else was in class, and it was uncomfortably chilly out here besides.

He cleared his throat.

"Okay, so, here's the thing...you wanna hang out?" He blurted out the last part so fast it was more like one long, tangled word than a sentence. "My parents have a big TV. Or if you have a TV, we could use that one. Wherever you want to watch TV. Netflix, I mean. We have an account."

What.

What was happening right now?

Was Cash Gannon, of all people, asking him to hang out? First of all, why, second of all, why, and third of all, why?!

It was some sort of ploy to bully him, right? It usually was; jocks liked to push him around and rip the spikes from his jacket and otherwise degrade him. This was probably not much different.

He took a step back, only to find himself against the bleachers. Fuck.

"I, uh..." he stuttered, brushing his long hair off his shoulders. "I mean...I guess...I'm just, like, confused? About why you'd want to hang out with me?"

He frowned, his ginger brows furrowing.

"Is Netflix not cool? I mean, there'll be snacks and stuff, of course. Unless that's not cool either? I'm sorry, I'm just new to...all this." He gestured vaguely with his large arms.

"I, uh...no, never mind," he said quickly, waving his hands. "I mean, sure, we can hang, I guess." His parents were always telling him to get more friends, anyway, although they might be just as surprised to see him bring home a gigantic jock as they were the first time he had shown them his corpse paint makeup. "Uh, but your house is better, I think, it might give my parents a heart attack if you show up there."

He laughed but it sound a bit forced.

"So, uh...yeah."

A smile slowly spread across his face.

"Really? Okay! There'll definitely be snacks, then. My place today, after school? Actually, shit, you have no idea where that is, huh? Meet me at Mayrose and 5th after class, we can walk together."

He clapped him on the back, so hard his headphones fell off.

"Haha, oops! Sorry 'bout it! I'll see you later!" He began his brisk walk back to class, and the cold air wasn't the only thing turning his cheeks and ears pink.

That was going to bruise, definitely. He leaned over to pick up his, now scraped up headphones and groaned a bit. He had just bought a new pair after Cash's jock friends had trashed his old pair. Typical.

Maybe Cash would be different? Maybe he wouldn't beat him up for his lunch money?

Maybe.

But probably not.

Angel pulled his headphones back on and leaned against the bleachers, letting out a sigh. How bad could this possibly be?

-x-

He had skipped 6th period because he was worried about what was to come, and he just wanted to get it over with, so he ended up waiting at the corner Cash had designated for far too long before he would even show up. He just wanted to know whether this was a trap. Maybe Cash would hold him down and try to cut off his hair again? That had happened in middle school, but it was something he worried about on a daily basis.

At least he had the comforting screams of his favorite metal musician to ease his anxiety as he waited for the jock to turn the corner any moment.

Cash waved as he approached, his tree-trunk arm cutting through the drizzle.

"Hey, how'd you make it here before I did? You should join track." He beamed, his heart pounding away in his chest. "My house is this way, only a few minutes."

After a minute or so of walking, Cash discovered a problem--what the fuck were they going to talk about before the safety of his home, before Netflix? Silence was clearly too awkward to be an option. He cleared his throat.

"So, your classes go well today? I mean, besides the one you skipped. Not that that's really any of my business whether you skip or don't skip--not like I haven't skipped, right?!" He chuckled a little too hard.

Oh God. This was so awkward. Why had he agreed to this, again? He could just bail, just start running the opposite direction. ...but Cash would probably be able to catch him, him being a football player and all.

So, he sighed, took a deep breath and said, "I skipped 6th period. And 4th...there's this really annoying kid in both my classes and I just didn't want to deal with him today."

He laughed, also a bit too hard.

"I'm sure there are plenty of kids that annoy you, right? Being so popular and all that," he said, hoping to create a topic of conversation.

He scrunched up his face as he thought. "Not really--I mean, some of the guys on the team can be asses, but for the most part people are cool. Our school is pretty--"

He was cut off as the light drizzle turned to a heavy downpour.

"Fuck!" In a moment of panic, he yanked off his jacket and held it over Angel's head like an umbrella. The last thing he wanted was for the goddamn weather to ruin this today.

This was the most weirdly romantic thing that had ever happened to him, and by another guy, no less a jock.

"N-no, it's fine," he said as he fished out an umbrella from his backpack. It was black and decorated with skulls, but it was better than this strangely intimate gesture. "Now you don't have to get your jacket wet."

He smiled at him as he opened the umbrella.

That smile sent Cash's heart into overdrive; he flashed back a foolish grin.

"I can change at home, is all. I think my clothes would be too big for you, right?"

After a few more minutes of walking, they reached Cash's large, white house just in time for the rain to cease. He led Angel through the back gate and around to the back door, mumbling apologetically about his mom's hatred for muddy footprints. Once inside the safety of the laundry room, he tossed his damp shoes onto a mud-caked mat and gestured for Angel tof do the same.

"So, what do you like to eat?"

"Uh, yeah, we aren't exactly...the same size," he said, laughing a bit more naturally now than previous times.

Luckily, when he took off his jacket and his boots, he was mostly dry anyway. He shook his umbrella out outside before hanging it on the rack. Angel's parents were well off, sure, but this was beyond his house, that was for sure. He vaguely remembered hearing Cash had brothers and sisters, so that likely accounted for the gigantic state of the house.

"Eat?" he said, and then he ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, I, uh, sorry I probably forgot to mention this but I'm actually a vegetarian."

He smiled sheepishly.

"Oh. So like, broccoli and stuff? We have some of that, but we also have a ton of junkfood--can vegans have junkfood?"

He led Angel down the hall to the high-ceilinged Kitchen. He threw open the fridge and pantry doors, revealing rows and rows of food. On the counter sat a large bowl of fruit.

"Mom went shopping yesterday. What do you want?"

There was so much food it was like walking into paradise. He gaped, surprised at how much food they had.

"A...are you really sure I can have whatever I want?" He asked, a bit apprehensive about the whole thing. He was definitely eyeing that bowl of fruit.

"Yeah, of course! I mean, it's the least I can do..." He eyed Angel from under his lashes, carefully taking in his movements. Getting tackled or hurt on the field didn't make him nervous, so why was his heart going crazy today?

Angel grabbed two granny smith apples and a green pear before he awkwardly looked at Cash and put back one of his apples. He didn't want to make it seem like he didn't eat at home, but feeding a kid as tall as him was a bit of a struggle for his parents.

"Th-thank you," he said sheepishly. "So, uh, what are we gonna watch? I mean, I don't really know what you like to watch."

"Doesn't matter," he said, already pulling Angel up the stairs toward his room. "I want to watch whatever you want. I promise."

His room wasn't small, but felt very cramped. The walls were papered with a busy green plaid, and every inch of carpet was occupied by clothes, workout tools, or large pieces of furniture. There was a large TV against the wall, just across from the queen-size bed.

Cash jumped onto his bed, patting the area on the thick quilt next to him.

He was already an apple down by the time they made it to Cash's room. He quietly discarded the core into the garbage and shoved the rest of the fruit into his bag, careful to wrap it in his sweater.

Cash's room reminded Angel, once again, how very little they had in common. All the workout equipment, the clothes, even, made him realize that they were not similar at all. So why the hell had he even asked him here? There was still a gnawing worry in the back of his head.

Angel sat down next to Cash, trying to take up as little space as possible, despite the bed being massive.

"Your bed is really big," he said. "I'm so tall my feet never fit all the way on mine."

He laughed softly.

"Yeah, that's why we bought it. 'Cuz I'm big." He tossed Angel the XBox remote. "Pick anything."

"I noticed," he mumbled to himself before he caught the XBox controller. "Well, I don't know, there's this show I really like but it's kind of, like, a metalhead thing."

Regardless, he flipped around the unfamiliar controls until he found Netflix.

"Do you even like metal?" he asked, turning to Cash.

"Like the music?" he said frowning. "Not really...I like, like, rap and stuff. Kanye and Gambino and Eminem."

He paused awkwardly as the show booted up, staring at his thumbs.

"I mean, do you think I should try it? Metal, I mean. Is that what you suggest?"

"Rap is okay," he said, setting the controller down on the bedside table. "But metal is just so. Raw. Authentic. It's gritty. When you're listening to metal, you can tune the rest of the world out and just...nothing else really matters."

He grinned at Cash.

"So, yeah, I mean, metal is great, you should definitely listen to it. Oh! I have, like a few old school CDs if you want to borrow them, or, I have MP3's of basically every great metal band there is," he said excitedly, and then he continues to ramble on about multiple metal bands he likes.

"Yeah, okay. Is there anything else?" he asked, looking at him expectantly with his big blue-green eyes.