Chapter Text
His teeth are too big and his hair is too messy. Instinctively you touch your own hair to make sure it’s flat. Your brother always makes you brush it before school but sometimes you get what he calls “fly-aways”.
Your teacher, Mrs. Mendicant, stands in front of the class with one of her hands on his shoulder. “Class, this is Johnathan Egbert.”
He clears his throat and says something that you can’t hear from where you’re sitting. Mrs. Mendicant bends down and he whispers into her ear. She nods and says something back before standing up.
“John Egbert.” She corrects herself. “He’ll be in our class from now on, isn’t that exciting?” There’s a wave of half-enthusiastic replies before she smiles again and speaks to John. “Go ahead and take a seat right back there, dear.” She points to the empty seat next to yours. “Beside Dave.”
You suddenly feel like you need to sit up straighter. Slouching and leaning disinterestedly with your head propped up on your arm seems rude. You straighten up and look at him when he sits beside you.
He doesn’t say anything.
You frown.
“Hey.” You whisper, leaning over slightly.
He looks at you and whispers back. “Hey?”
“I’m Dave Strider.”
He nods. “I know.”
“Wh-” He smiles a little and leans over to touch the decorated nametag taped to the top of your desk. “Oh. Duh.”
“I’m John Egbert.”
“You’re a new student?”
He nods.
“Where did you come from?”
“Washington.”
You don’t know a lot about geography but Mrs. Mendicant has been trying to teach you all of the state capitals and you think you remember where Washington is. You gasp in awe. “That’s so far away!”
He nods.
“Well why’d ya move all the way down here?” You ask.
He shrugs.
“Dave, how about we set good examples for John, hm? Eyes front.” Mrs. Mendicant warns.
Your eyes snap forward and you stiffen up. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry, Mrs. Mendicant.” She carries on with the lesson and you can see John smiling out of the corner of your vision. You feel embarrassed.
The lesson carries on for what feels like days, you’re anxious and you want to talk to the new kid again. You were a new kid once too and you know sometimes making friends is not easy. Mrs. Mendicant turns off the projector and faces you all with a pleasant smile. “Alright, fourth graders, go ahead and go to recess.”
The students around you jump out of their seats and fly out the door in a hurry. Everyone likes to get the most out of recess. You would usually be right there with them but as soon as you’re standing you notice John looking a little confused. You step around your desk and talk to him again.
“Come on, I’ll show you where to go.”
He nods and you lead him out the door and down the hallway that leads to the playground. He doesn’t talk very much but you think he’s probably just nervous.
You’ll talk for him.
“So anyway, you’re really far from home, huh? I bet this is your new home now, though, isn’t it? I know what that’s like. In first grade my brother and I moved here from San Antonio. I think I liked San Antonio better but I don’t really remember it that much. It was prettier than Dallas.” You hold the door for him. “You know, you don’t look like you’re from Washington…”
He stops once he’s out the door and looks at you funny. “What do people from Washington look like then?”
“I don’t know!” You answer throwing your hands up and walking out the door after him. “Taller, maybe.”
He laughs. “My dad says I’ll get taller someday but I don’t know… my mom was short and my dad is also kind of short, I think. I don’t know. He’s short when he’s next to other grown-ups.”
You nod. “Both of my parents were tall and my big brother is tall too. Like really tall.” The two of you walk side-by-side towards the playground. “Do you want to play?”
He shakes his head.
“Aw, why?” You ask.
He shrugs and points at the playground. “Too many kids I don’t know.”
“You know me.”
“Hardly!” He laughs. You’re glad you can make him laugh. Everyone needs to laugh sometimes when they’re afraid. Your mom used to say that laughter was the best medicine.
“Well… that doesn’t matter. We can just sit if you want?”
“Don’t you want to play?” He frowns.
You shake your head. “Nah. I’ll just hang out with you. I know first days are scary.”
He nods. “Thanks.”
The two of you find a spot in the shade under one of the saplings lining the school. He picks at the grass while you talk. He doesn’t say much but he’s a good listener and he doesn’t seem upset that you talk so much so you keep going. You keep talking until Mrs. Mendicant blows her whistle and calls for fourth graders to line up. You and John walk together up to the line.
After recess Mrs. Mendicant passes out a math paper that you’ll have two minutes to do as much as you can on. She says that when you’re done you turn the paper over and wait until time is up. Nobody ever finishes the whole page, though. It’s covered in fifty multiplication problems and fifty division problems too. The problems are all mixed up and you’re allowed to skip around but that’s just way too confusing.
Mrs. Mendicant starts the time and tells you all to go. You’ve barely made a dent when you hear paper wobbling beside you. Instinctively you look over and you are shocked to see John has flipped his paper and is looking forward. You waste a whole fifteen seconds looking at John in disbelief before shaking your head and turning back to your own paper. The timer beeps.
“Alright kiddos, trade papers with the person to youuuur – ” She considers for a minute. “Right.”
You have to pass your paper all the way across to the row on the other side of the room because there is nobody on your right. John passes his paper to you.
“Okay, let’s go over the answer. Everyone take out a red pen, please. John do you have a red pen?” He nods. “Good, good.”
She starts the review. This isn’t for a grade and you’re only supposed to mark wrong answers for problems that are already done so that everyone can know what they did wrong. Mrs. Mendicant collects the papers after you check them so she can see what everyone needs help with.
She stops when she gets to you and sees John’s paper. Her eyes travel between John and the paper more than once before she finally says something. “You finished the whole thing?” She asks him. John nods. “And he didn’t get a single one wrong?” She asks you. You nod. “Oh my, John. That is impressive.”
He gives her a soft smile and a faint blush creeps across his cheeks. He speaks quietly. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Mendicant carries on collecting papers and tells you they’ll be returned tomorrow morning. She goes back to the projector and starts the real math lesson for the day. You can’t help but look at John more than once during the lesson because you’re pretty impressed. She assigns homework and moves on to the next lesson, and then the next.
The day ends on a high note when you all get cupcakes because it’s one of your classmate’s birthdays. As you’re packing up to leave John talks to you again. “Was I not s’posed to get them all right?” He asks, his voice still sounding kind of small.
“Huh?”
“On the math paper.”
“Oh!” You sit up and give him your full attention. “No – I mean – yes. I mean, well, nobody else does but we’re supposed to try!”
He nods and a look of relief spreads across his face.
“Didn’t you have any fast math papers in Washington?” You ask.
He nods again. “Uh-huh. But not really that easy.”
You knit your eyebrows together and look at him questioningly. “Are you kidding? Those papers aren’t easy. Some of those problems are in the triple digits!”
He nods.
You shake your head and keep putting your things away. “What are you, like some kind of genius or something?”
He shrugs. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Okay, well then you’re just really good at math!”
He shrugs again and you give another disbelieving headshake and laugh at his modesty.
You come to find over the next days, weeks, and months that math is definitely not the only thing John Egbert is good at. Every time you ask him if he’s some sort of genius he just shrugs and tells you he doesn’t think so and leaves it at that. It’s infuriating. He gets good grades on everything and sometimes you don’t even think he’s trying that hard. He acts like it’s not even a big deal!! You wish you could write like he does. Mrs. Mendicant even pinned one of his essays to the bulletin board at the front of the room and suggested he enter it in a local essay contest. He didn’t.
Despite the little pangs of jealousy you get when he does something smart the two of you become friends. Fourth grade finishes and fifth grade comes and goes, John still firmly holding his spot at the top of the class. He never boasts about it and if you had a conversation with him you’d never guess he was so brilliant because he’s so modest. You’re pleased to find out you’ll be attending the same middle school.
Sixth grade is easier than you thought it would be. John, of course, passes with flying colors. Seventh grade? That’s when shit starts to get real. Pre-Algebra is definitely not your strong suit and you are not excited to find out what normal Algebra is like. John? It’s a cakewalk for him. You definitely feel those little pangs of jealousy again.
-oOo-
His teeth are still too big and his hair is just as messy. You instinctively reach over and touch his hair in an attempt to flatten it. His dad always makes him brush it before school but he always gets fly-aways.
He jerks away after a minute of you trying to fix it. “Knock it off.”
“John you cannot keep your hair like that.” You plead.
He brings both of his hands up to his head in offense (and it only messes up his hair more). “Why not?”
“Because it’s embarrassing!”
“Well it’s a good thing it’s not your hair then, isn’t it.” He snaps.
You sigh through your nose huffily and roll your eyes. “You are so stubborn.”
“You are too handsy.”
“I’m trying to help!”
“Help schmelp.” He sticks out his tongue at you. The overhead light glints off his braces when he does. “I don’t need your help.”
You sag your shoulders and groan. “John.”
“Dave.” He answers back.
“You look stupid.”
“Good. I want to look stupid. If you’re not going to say anything nice then don’t say anything at all!” He lowers his hands from his head and folds his arms.
“John. I am not letting your nerd-butt go on public television looking like the bride of Frankenstein.” You move to fix his hair again.
He reacts quickly and grabs both of your wrists. “Nuh-uh. I’m fine.”
You close your eyes and give him a pained expression before relaxing your arms and saying, “Alright. Fine. Go on TV like that. I give up.”
He lets go of your wrists. “It doesn’t even matter. Nobody watches public television.”
“You would be surprised.”
He rolls his eyes and turns away from you. “I’ll see you after.”
“Good luck.”
John Egbert is quite possibly the most stubborn human being you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. He was modest but he wasn’t shy like you used to think. He was smart but he wasn’t a genius like you used to think. A shy person wouldn’t go on TV with bed-head and an old t-shirt for his eighth-grade academic team competition. A genius wouldn’t go on TV with bed-head and an old t-shirt for his eighth-grade academic team competition. John Egbert was not shy and he was not a genius.
Still, you resign yourself and let him have his way again. You’re allowed to watch the recording from the side stage as long as you promise to be quiet. The smartest kids in your grade are competing so you’re not really sure why John is there.
John is dumb.
Okay, that’s not true.
John is really smart. He’s smart with math, with science, with English, with everything. You’re still a little bit jealous. He told you before his mom died she used to take him with her to Mexico and his Abuelita (according to John that’s Spanish for grandma but you’re not sure how much you believe him) would make him read. Apparently he’s been reading since before he could even talk all the way. He’s already read almost everything that you get assigned to read in school and then some. So yeah. You’re still a little bit jealous.
He answers every question he’s given during the competition correctly. You knew he would. He knows everything, of course he would. You greet him with a hug after he’s let off stage and he grins at you. You playfully shove him after the hug and shake your head.
“I can’t believe you actually went on TV lookin’ like that.” You gesture both hands at his hair.
“Oh, bite me. I don’t care.”
“I know you don’t.”
The two of you hear a quick low whistle behind you and it’s John’s dad trying to get your attention.
John’s dad is not a very tall man. You remember when he met your brother; Bro towered over him by at least six inches. He walks over to you and John and claps a hand on both of your shoulders. “You did great, John. I’m proud of you. Your mother would be proud of you.”
John smiles and nods.
John doesn’t look very much like his dad. He’s got curly black-brown hair (when it gets long enough anyway) and light brown skin. His dad has plain brown (and you assume straight) hair and he’s white as hell. You’ve only seen a picture of John’s mom once but you remember thinking that John looked a lot like her.
You’re so busy fondly staring at your best friend and thinking about what he looks like that you don’t even notice his dad talking to you until halfway through his sentence.
“-with us to dinner?”
You piece together what he must have said and nod quickly accompanied by an “mhm”.
“Great!” He booms and pats your shoulder. “Let’s get going then.”
He takes the two of you out for dinner and halfway through the meal you call your brother and ask him if you can crash at John’s place tonight. He says you can as long as you promise that your homework is already done. You lie and tell him it is.
You hang up and give Mr. Egbert a thumbs up. He’s says he’s glad to have you and the three of you finish your dinner with idle conversation. He drives you all back to the Egbert residence and you and John immediately bolt up the stairs.
John flops onto his bed and you flop beside him. “What do you want to do?” You ask.
“Uh, how about that homework you lied about?” He smirks.
You roll your eyes. “Nerd.”
“Come on. You know if you actually did your homework you’d have way better grades and you could stop hating on me for mine!” He has a point.
You don’t care. “Yeah? My grades could never compare to your genius-level bullshit anyway so it doesn’t matter.” He leans over and covers your mouth. You lick his hand.
He yanks it back and makes a face. “Yuck!! Dave you can’t swear here!”
“You afraid ol’ poppa Egbert is gonna hear me?”
“Uh, yes!”
“Well he wouldn’t if you didn’t yell about it every damn time.” You put extra emphasis on the word damn and he looks like he wants to melt into the bed.
“Please.”
“All right, all right. For you.” You fold your arms behind your head and look up at the ceiling. “So talk to me Egbert, what do you got going on?”
He shrugs and you look over at him. “Nothing, I guess.”
“Come on, tell me what’s up.”
“Well you know almost everything! We see each other every day.”
“Mm.” You nod. “Almost everything.”
“Dave.”
You prop yourself up on your elbows. “Well. Come on, you’ve been keeping something from me for weeks. This is prime time to spill it.”
He picks at the bits of pilling fabric on his comforter and shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”
“Liar.” You grab his wrist and stop him from picking. “You’re fidgeting. Seriously, John, what’s up? You should be over the moon, you just basically won the academic team competition.”
“I know.” He sighs. “I almost threw it, though. On purpose.”
You sit up now. “What, why?”
“I don’t want to have to leave.” He speaks quietly.
“What are you talking about?”
“My dad is putting in an application for me at Maplehoof Academy for Gifted Minds in Washington.” You can barely hear him but his words feel loud. “He said if I won the competition it’ll pretty much guarantee I get in.”
“Okay? What – does this mean you’re moving?”
He nods. “Yeah, I think so.”
“But what about your dad’s job? What –”
“We moved here for his work but now he can transfer back if he wants. He talked to me about it a couple weeks ago. He said he’d like to move back and be closer to our family and my mom. He – he said it was up to me but – he said if I get into Maplehoof that I should seriously consider moving back.”
“You’re not going to, right?” You speak without thinking.
He looks up and shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s a good school.”
“So – so is the high school here –”
“Dave this is a really good school. Like – get into an Ivy League college good.”
“You’re only fourteen! You don’t need to worry about getting into an Ivy League college right now! And besides, you’re smart enough to get into one no matter where you go to school!”
He doesn’t answer you.
“John.”
He looks down. A tear falls from his face. Another one. Another. Crap. You made him cry.
“John –”
“It’s fine, Dave.” He says but he doesn’t sound like it’s fine. “You don’t want me to move, I know. I don’t really want to either but it’s – it’s my future, you know?”
You hesitate. You want to tell him he can have a future just fine if he stays here but this isn’t about you. You don’t even know why you feel this way, you just don’t want him to leave Texas or – or to leave you.
“Yeah.” You force yourself to say. “I’m sorry.”
“But –” He starts hopefully. “My dad said he’s finally getting me a phone, remember?” He wipes the few tears on his cheeks and tries to pretend he wasn’t just crying. You pretend you didn’t see him crying. “So we can text! And we’ve always got Pesterchum.”
You sigh through your nose and shrug one shoulder. “Yeah, I guess so. And we can video chat.”
“Yeah! And – and after I graduate I’ll come back and it’ll be fine.” He seems to be genuinely a little bit happier at this thought. “It’s only four years.” What about that Ivy League college?
“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I get it. The silver lining. Can we just – talk about something else? I don’t really-”
“Yeah.” He cuts you off. “Want to play a videogame?”
“You know it dude, pass me a controller.”
He grins and stands from the bed to turn on his TV. At this point you’re not sure if John leaving is in the future or not. You hope it’s not. He hasn’t even been accepted into the school, right? You hope he isn’t.
-oOo-
His teeth have never seemed bigger and his hair has never been messier. You told him to brush it when you woke up but he insistently refused and stayed right beside you on the bed. This is your last sleepover before he leaves and he swears he’s not going to waste his time brushing his hair.
You laugh and brush his hair back off his forehead, “What good is it going to do keeping it this way if I can’t even see you?”
“Oh yeah, you can’t see me Mr. Wearing-sunglasses-every-day-even-inside.” He sticks out his tongue.
“Hey, hey. It’s a fashion statement and besides I’m not wearing them right now.”
“You just woke up!”
“So?”
“So when you get out of bed you’re going to put them on.”
“Yeah? And? You’re going to put your glasses on too.” You grin.
“I need glasses, Dave!”
“Source?” He shoves you and you roll off the bed and hit the floor with an “oof”.
He looks over the edge of the bed, “My eye doctor, stupid.”
You smile up at him from your place on the floor before getting to your feet. “Alright. I can understand that.”
He rolls his eyes and joins you in standing, stretching, and yawning. “Breakfast?”
You nod and the two of you head downstairs to find something to eat. To your surprise, John’s dad has already made breakfast and left a note saying that he ran to the store and he’d be back soon. You both help yourselves and then retreat back to John’s room.
You sit cross-legged on the bed in front of him while he pins your hair back in various places with the butterfly barrettes that you picked up at the dollar store yesterday. You cross your eyes upward to have a look at his handy work. He laughs and you enjoy it.
“See? It’s so much better when you’re not wearing those dumb shades. You’re so expressive.” He pins the last barrette and sits back slightly with a look of satisfaction.
“Exactly. I have to hide my true nature, John. I can’t let people be seeing my emotions.” You say completely straight-faced (but you’re joking) (mostly).
“Why?”
You shrug. “Dunno. Just not how us Striders roll, you feel me?”
“Nope. I don’t.”
“Of course you don’t.”
He hops up suddenly and scans his room. It’s full of boxes right now and the entire time you’ve been here he’s had to guess which box has what in it. He frowns. “Man, I wish my dad didn’t make me pack the videogames already. I’m so bored.”
“Oh, am I not entertaining enough?” You scoff.
He turns his head over his shoulder at you and grins. “Of course you aren’t! You’re so lame!!!”
“You wound me, John.”
He laughs and flops back down on the bed, this time on his back. “Man, I’m just – I don’t know. Anxious. I want today to be perfect. It’s the last day we’re spending together!”
“Yeah, I get it.” You fall down beside him. “I mean – we’re going to say goodbye on the day you leave, right?”
He nods. “Of course!”
“But we have to go out with a bang.”
He nods again. “Yep.”
“Wanna walk to the store?”
He gives you a withering look. “You have an addiction.”
“What? I love cheap and dirty deals. Sue me.”
“I would but you spend all your money at the dollar store.”
“Fair enough.” You pluck one of the barrettes from your hair and stick it in John’s. “Consider this cheap dollar store junk a token to remember me by.”
He touches it and laughs. “Yeah okay. I need to give you something to remember me by too.”
“Aw, shucks, Egbert. You don’t have to –”
He kisses you.
It’s short. Inexperienced. His lips are warm and softer than you might have imagined because of how much he chews on them. He pulls back and looks over your face before breaking into a small grin. You open your mouth to speak but –
“Boys!!!” A voice calls from downstairs. “I’m home. I’ve got a few groceries and I could use some help.” John’s grin broadens and he hops up off the bed to run downstairs and meet his father.
You absently touch your lips as you sit up and your eyes fall onto the door that John just left through. You have no idea what’s going on in your own head right now. You stand to follow John and snatch your shades off the table before also exiting the room.
John is downstairs already helping his dad unload the few groceries they got to get through the next few days. John dad’s greets you when you enter the kitchen and you reply kind of hollowly. John occasionally gives you a glance or a knowing grin. Eventually he delves into a conversation with his father and you’re left with your thoughts, barely paying attention to the two of them talking and unsure if you’re being spoken to as well.
You’ve spent the last year – year and a half noticing the little things about John. You noticed the direction his hair curled, the shape of his nose, the way he chews his lips, how his eyes zoom across the page when he’s reading – it doesn’t matter what. If it was about John you noticed it. You thought that it was normal, that you were just getting older and coming to understand your best friend better but – but John’s kiss has you questioning everything you thought. Suddenly all the noticing, all the fond staring, all the unnecessary contact seemed like much much more. You think back on everything, every thought you’ve had about John and you realize two things at the exact same time: you are gay and you have a crush on your best friend.
You are gay and you have a crush on your best friend. You are gay and you have a crush on your best friend. You are gay and you have a crush on your best friend. You are gay and you have a crush on your best friend. You are – He’s leaving.
John is leaving.