Know Your Enemy

[Waddle]

Evan was acting like his normal self on his way to his normal home after is normal job on a normal day in a normal part of town. Everything was pretty normal, listening to his iPod, not paying attention to much of anything. Today, he forced himself to not pay attention to the people who stopped in their yard chores to look at him, but quickly turned away again. They didn't think he had noticed, but he had. It didn't bother him any. In fact, a goofy grin had plastered itself across his face, almost of its own accord. He imaged their confusion and the questions racing through their heads. Nosy people, didn't know their own business. His face was mostly healed, but there were still a couple bruises, and several permanent indentations in his cheek bones and jaw line, as well as a nose now as crooked as to match Anthony's.

He made it to his house in an especially fine mood, unlocked the door and went inside, shutting it behind him. He saw Anty asleep on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, and grinned still further. He pulled the ear buds from his ears, set them and his iPod down on the table between the couch and the armchair, and came to stand in front of Anty. Grabbing the blanket, he yanked hard, quickly jumping back in the process to keep Anthony from rolling onto his shoes. "Wake up, Blondie! It's 3:30 already!"

[Anty]

Anthony was curled up in the fetal position on the couch, watching Golden Girl rerun and infomercials when he had fallen asleep. He didn't mean to, afraid of dreams, but to his surprise, he had none. And he slept like a baby. It wasn't until 3:30 in the afternoon that he woke, as a matter of fact. He cracked his eyes open to find he was sprawled across the floor wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. "Who? Me? I was just taking a little nap," he said to Evan, who was standing above him. Why was he on the floor? Maybe he had rolled off the couch in his sleep, but it wasn't likely. Evan was wearing that goofy grin that usually meant he was up to something. But Anthony couldn't help but smile, showing his crooked teeth. If Evan was happy, so was he.

He rolled around so that he was on his stomach. "Think yer funny, do ya?" he asked, a smile still lighting up his features. He grabbed Evan's ankle and pulled it from beneath him, hoping that he would topple over. "How many times do I have to tell you? Don't call me Blondie!"

[Waddle]

"I do very much!" Evan exclaimed with a laugh, right before he fell back wards on his bottom with a grunt. He laughed even harder as he rolled out of the way, but soon found himself near the TV set and had to stop before he rolled it over. "Blondie! Blondie! Blondie! Blondie!" he chanted as he scrambled onto his hands and knees. This was more fun than he'd had in a very long time. Clean fun, that is. He'd had this much fun sometimes, but that had been because he'd been high or drunk, and that didn't count. He barked at Anthony, a rather good imitation of the dog that lived on the street and persistently barked all through the night, despite the fact that people would often sneak over there and give it a good kick if they got annoyed enough. And those people, who was actually was person, was Evan.

With a howl, he lunged forward, arms outstretched like he was going to attack Anthony, but stopped and just slapped Anty on both cheeks gently. "Woof," he stated flatly, grinning his normal, stupid, goofy grin.

[Anty]

Anthony tried to glare darkly at Evan, but couldn't control the mischievous smile that lingered. An idea has come to him. It wasn't a good idea, though it was possibly one of his best yet. Dangerous was a good word used to describe it. Risky, as many of his ideas were, this one was at the top of the list. "Bad dog!" he exclaimed, as he pushed Evan onto his back with the palm of his hand. He jumped to his feet. "Stay," he said sternly, before running off.

Anthony looked up, pulling the fan pull so that it come to life. He jumped onto the couch, hurtling over the back, and dashed into the kitchen. He popped open the fridge and took out a beer. He ran back to the couch, took a long gulp from the bottle and threw it down to the ground beside him. He wiped his off his mouth with the back of his hand. He stepped onto the couch, then jumped from the cushion to the back of the couch. "Eagle!" he exclaimed as he jumped to the fan that was slowly spinning to life. His hand caught onto one of the slowly spinning paddles. "I spin right 'round baby, right 'round, right 'round... " he sang under his breath as he looked down at Evan. "Comin' at ya, buddy!" he shouted as he dropped down from the paddle and onto Evan's stomach.

[Waddle]

Evan fell onto his back and lay there, staring at the ceiling, watching the fan blades spin slowly at first, then speed up, his head turning with them. He got a little mesmerized, up until Anthony appeared, hanging off one and saying something too quietly to be heard. Before Evan could move, Anty jumped down onto his stomach. Evan cursed loudly, a sound that came out as more of a grunt than a word, as the breath was knocked from his lungs. He gasped as tears sprang to his eyes and wiped them away quickly.

"Curse you Anty," he squeaked out, his voice much higher than usual from lack of air. He pushed his friend off his stomach and got onto his hands and knees, breath finally coming a little easier. He half smiled, half grimaced at Anty. "Nice trick... Learn that one... off a... cartoon?" he strangled, the smile falling away as he stared into Anthony's green eyes. They were... beautiful. He found himself leaning forward, and kissed Anty without thinking about it. It wasn't much, and he pulled back swiftly, the realization of what he'd done blasting through his brain like a train hitting him. "Oh, um, er, uhh..." he stammered, unable to get his thoughts together. So he stopped, and just stared at Anthony, not sure what to expect.

[Anty]

Anthony rolled off of Evan's stomach, smiling like a fool. He kept rolling until he hit the couch. He leaned his shoulder against the couch, laughing stupidly. "Actually that one's an original," he said, stifling his laughter. "Your voice is squeaky!" he said, clutching his side. He was beginning to think that he would never stop laughing. He got worried about how he was going to breathe. That did the trick because his laughter subsided.

He was going to say something about how he should have tried that one before, because this wasn't the first time that idea had occurred to him, and how he was always just a little too sober. He didn't, though, because Evan leaned closer to him. What was he doing? "Uhh, what're you-" he said, but before he could finish Evan was kissing him. Anthony's eyes grew to the size of saucers. But before he had time to react, the kiss was over as quickly as it had begun. He blinked, not sure of what to do or what to say. He wanted to scramble away and hide in a whole somewhere, but he didn't. He wanted to tell Evan that he was straight, but he didn't. Instead he leaned in and kissed him. Before he knew it, it was more than just one kiss. He lost all sense of time or anything close to it. He begged himself to stop, but he didn't do that either. Was he wasted or did he really think of Evan as more than a friend? He couldn't decide. Once again, he wondered if he would ever stop all the nonsense and breathe, dammit!

[Waddle]

Evan gulped, half expecting Anthony to be mad, maybe slap him and storm away. You just made a mistake, Evan, moaned a part of himself. He bit his lower lip uncertainly, worried. Then Anty leaned forward himself, and what had been a mistake to Evan quickly became a success. Old games of Gay Chicken completely flew out the window. Back then, it had seemed so wrong to be doing what they were doing right then. Back then, if their lips had even touched each other at all, Evan had wanted to throw up. What was so different now? Right now, it seemed so right. He didn't care about the smell and taste beer that quickly filled his nose and mouth.

After what felt like forever and no time at all, he pulled away and scooted back a couple feet. This wasn't right. He didn't really love Anthony, did he? No, no, he didn't! He couldn't. They were friends, the best of friends. Only friends. Were they? He stared in confusion at Anthony, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, chin on his knees. What was going on with them? "This isn't right," he mumbled. "It's simply not right!" He couldn't understand why it wasn't right, but he couldn't understand why it would be right.

[Anty]

Some part of Anthony was begging him to stop, but the rest urged him on. Stop eating the poor man's face! he told himself. He was on the verge of stopping when Evan broke away for him. He was glad to breathe again, for he was sure that his face was blue. But he wanted more... No! He wasn't like this. This was wrong. He tried convincing himself, but it didn't work. He stared into Evan's eyes, his breath coming quick. "No. You're right, it isn't right," he said, scooting away. He didn't love Evan, did he? He was just drunk, wasn't he? Of course, ninety percent of the time he was drunk, but he still had some control. Maybe he was high? But he wasn't. He was fine, and that bothered him. A lot. And it dawned on him that it had been Evan who had made the first move. Evan was gay? That was insane. His friend was always the one with the pretty girls, wasn't he? Everything was screwed up now, and no matter how long he rambled on inside his head, it would never make sense.

Anthony rose to his feet, still staring at Evan. His mouth tasted like Goldfish now. Goldfish and beer. He found a pair of his jeans lying on the back of the couch and slipped them on. He tried not to make eye contact with Evan, but it was inevitable. His pants sagged down, and you could still see his boxers, but he couldn't find a belt. He forgot about putting a shirt on and you could still see his pale skin that stuck to each of his ribs. It wasn't peasant to look at. He slipped his boots on. "I'm just going to, umm... " he trailed off, not entirely sure what he was going to do himself. He walked to the bathroom when he heard an unappetizing crunch underneath his foot. He took a step back to see Evan's iPod, crushed.

Anthony swallowed, not sure what to do. "You're a dead man, Anthony, a dead one," he told himself aloud. He gently picked the broken iPod up and hid it behind his back. He walked back into the living room sideways, hiding the iPod behind his back. "Nice weather, eh?" he said, looking up at the ceiling. "Oh." He sat down on the couch, sitting on the iPod. He couldn't see it, could he? If he couldn't see it, he didn't know. Unless Evan had X-Ray vision... But that would mean... Anthony shivered. That was disgusting. Everything would be alright if he didn't panic. Don't panic, he told himself. He was started to panic.

[Waddle]

He nodded slowly, glad that Anthony agreed. He unfolded himself, just then realizing he had been folded up like a scared child. He stretched out his legs and supported himself on his elbows, looking anywhere but at Anthony. It was his fault! If he had been able to stop himself, they wouldn't be going through this awkward moment. If he had been able to stop himself, he would have hated himself. Maybe putting it out in the open would turn out alright? Or maybe he had just completely ruined everything between them? He was going to drive himself insane thinking about it. You can't go back anymore. Even if we both acted like nothing happened, we both know it did happen, and things just.. won't be the same. The harsh realization of it hit him.

Usually, he was more of a loner. He kept more to himself, not caring to branch out to other people. He'd been that way for a while. But Anthony was the one exception. Anthony was his best friend. And he might have just lost all that.

He flipped over on his stomach and squirmed around to see what was on TV. Not impressed, he turned back over on his back to watch the fans spin, unable to think of anything but what had just happened, and how he wished it hadn't. He heard Anthony comment on the weather and lifted his head to give him a quizzical look. "Er, yeah, I- I guess it is..." Typical Anthony, trying to change the subject from awkward to casual and failing miserably. Evan noticed how Anthony kept his hand behind his back. Standing up, he moaned quietly. What did he destroy this time? He didn't even ask; he just came over behind the couch and looked down at his crushed iPod. He plunked it from Anty's hands and stared at it for a second, then mumbled, "Why you dirty son of a bitch." He didn't really mean it. He was actually playing. He didn't mind if his iPod was broken, he could get a new one. It might mean a lot of cutting back on expensive things on his part, but he would make the sacrifice any day. It was an accident. He knew Anty would never intentionally break anything Evan held dear.

[Anty]

Anthony let the broken iPod slip through his grasp. He wiped the sweat from his palms onto his pants. He blinked stupidly at Evan, not sure of what to say. He could tell him how sorry he was, but that seemed pointless. He could tell him it was an accident, but would it seem believable? He should make it up to him, yes. But how? He didn't have an iPod that he could just give Evan and they would both forget about the situation. Money was the only option, but he didn't have much. He had almost forgotten about the awkwardness that seemed to haunt them until now. Maybe that was a good thing. Anthony walked into the kitchen. They both needed their space, he decided.

"Why you dirty son of a bitch."

Anthony scratched his head. He couldn't deny that the statement was true. He looked around the kitchen to find his wallet sitting on the counter. That could help. He hopped onto the counter beside it. He picked it up, thumbing through its contents. "That's what your ex called me last night," he replied. His words were just a joke, like Evan's, but they were still cold. The subject itself was a sore one. Evan's ex-girlfriend was "the one", according to him. He was mad in love. He wanted them to grow old together. But in her eyes, it was a different story. She broke his heart. It was possible that she had wanted someone who could better support themselves financially. Someone like a doctor. "I-I'll pay you back, I swear," he told Evan. Anthony took all the money out of his wallet and slapped it onto the counter. All together he had twenty-eight dollars and seventy-two cents. It wasn't much, but it was all he had, save his credit card. That money was what was left of his beer money. He didn't want to look at Evan, but he did anyway. His mouth still tasted much like tongue. And Goldfish.

It had started to rain outside, and Anthony could hear the thunder. He chewed his lip, trying to think of a way he could pay Evan the money. He could sell... nothing. The only thing he had that was actually worth anything was his gun, and there was no way he would sell that. He wasn't about to become a male prostitute, either, although he heard there was good money in that. It was tempting, he had to admit. Getting paid to have sex sounded like a good idea, but there had to be some downside. Even if he couldn't think of one. Those horny bitches must be pretty desperate. Either that or they had a sexually transmitted disease. Though if they did have an STD, they were probably desperate, Anthony reasoned.

[Waddle]

What had he just said? Evan stared at Anthony, hurt. What? He was being serious. He wasn't joking. Evan stuffed the remains of his iPod in his pocket as the hurt turned to anger. I was just kidding! And he throws her back in my face like it's nothing?! She had been his world, once. She had been always on his mind, she had been the one. She was still on his mind, a lot. They had dated since senior year at high school, up until a year ago, when she had broken his heart. He remembered everything she had ever said to him, but a few lines rose to the top in this moment. The biggest one being, 'You're too dependent on me. You need to grow up and learn to stop letting people waltz into your life and letting them become your everything.' And that's what you're doing right here, with Anty.

"Don't bother," he muttered, now avoiding the other's gaze. Why did I even wake him up? If he hadn't woken Anthony up, none of this would have happened. He cursed himself in his mind, then cursed Anthony, as he turned and took a few steps away, ignoring the money, and stopped in front of the wall, staring at it without seeing it. Why did he always let people become his life? He hadn't, there for a year, after she had gone and he had no one left. He had needed time to recover, and about the time he had healed, Anthony showed up and screwed everything up. It's my fault for letting him in this much, though. "Dammit!" he shouted, much more loudly than he'd meant to. He drew a breath between his teeth and hissed it out. These thoughts had plagued him for some time now, and he had always escaped by just getting away from Anthony. I won't keep running anymore.

He turned around to face Anthony again, arms crossed, mouth open a little. He wanted to say something, but what could he say? Just tell Anthony that what he'd just said had stung? Tell him to get out? He mainly just wanted to run. To run and pretend this wasn't happening. It was his instinct. When things got rough, he would just run. He hadn't been able to run once before, and he would never be able to get over that. He was in so far over his head that he couldn't see the right way out. Maybe Anthony would make the next move and write in stone what Evan was going to do next. But what if he didn't like what he would have to do? You don't like any of this. Through the conflicting emotions, he searched Ant's face for his solution, or, rather, his salvation.

[Anty]

Anthony swung his legs back and forth, much like a small child. Each time, his combat boots hit the cabinets with a thud. He twiddled his thumbs, watching Evan. He absorbed Evan's anger like a sponge. That normally goofy smile was now a look of utter confusion. As Anthony watched him, he saw the years disintegrate. Evan was much younger. He went back to a day he swore he had erased from his memory.

Anthony watched Evan. He was miserable. Evan wasn't, of course, he was wearing that same goofy smile. Anthony had to tell him, there wasn't another option that he could live with. Anthony stepped into the room, just behind Evan. "Hey, man," he said, trying to sound upbeat but failing miserably. Evan jumped. "Oh. Hey! I was just thinking about her... " he said, falling back onto the couch. I should tell him... I don't wanna hurt him though... She's his everything, and I'm about to take that away from him. It wasn't his fault, not really. Adrienne had made the first move. But Anthony did kiss her back, there was no denying it. If he told Evan, not only would he break his heart, but he would probably lose his best friend.

Here's how it happened: Anthony was sitting at Evan's apartment, eating popcorn and watching TV. Adrienne, Evan's girlfriend for who knows how long came in. Anthony secretly despised her. She was such a skank, and Evan was too deeply in love to realize it. She was holding a stack of CD's that she had borrowed from Evan. "Is Evan home?" she asked Anthony. "Nah. He's doing whatever he does every week day," he replied, engrossed in cartoons. "Oh. Well, maybe I should wait for him then," she said, sitting down on the couch, too close for comfort, and eating his popcorn. Maybe you should get the hell out," he wanted to tell her, but he didn't. He knew something bad was going to happen, but Evan would get mad at him if he did something mean to her, so instead he sighed. And that's when she made the move. Anthony couldn't help but play along. Though afterwords, he could have killed himself.

Anthony broke away, "You should leave," he said., Evan will be here soon, anyways." Adrienne nodded, "You won't tell, will you? Evan will hate us both for this, at least for a while. I'll make it up to him eventually. But you? You'll always just be the best friend who made out with his girlfriend. I've learned that from past experiences," she said, a little too happily. "Out!" Anthony shouted louder than he meant to. And finally, she did leave.

Anthony cursed colorfully and took his popcorn into the kitchen. He sat down at the table, eating popcorn. Why did he have to be so quick?! No, it wasn't his fault. It was Evan's. Why did Evan have to have such a slutty girlfriend?! He should know that it was just leading Anthony on! Anthony threw the popcorn down in frustration. Stupid Adrienne... He would have to fess up, he decided as he began sweeping up the popcorn. Evan came in, and completely ignored Anthony. He shrugged, at least he didn't have to confront him.

An hour or so later

Anthony sat down on the couch beside Evan. His palms were sweaty, and he could taste lipstick on his lips. He wiped his sleeve across his mouth, trying to hide any of the traces. "Look, man... " he trailed off. He had to do this. He had to tell Evan what he had done. "Your girlfriend, she... she's great!" he lied. Of course he didn't do it. He couldn't lose his best friend. He couldn't hurt him like that.

Anthony shook his head, coming back to the present. What would have happened if he had told Evan? Would he be here? Would Evan be with Adrienne? He wondered what had happened to her. Anthony looked at Evan again, who still had the same look of confusion. He felt guilty about what he did, and how he had never told Evan about it. Now was better than never, right? He was alright up shit creek without a paddle, and he guessed it couldn't get much worse. "Look, man... I made out with you ex," he stammered.

[Waddle]

Evan's back stiffened as memories flooded over him. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. It shouldn't have made the situation worse, but it did. He should have expected that very thing to happen, but he hadn't. Adrienne hadn't told him why she had broken up with him, but he had never expected Anthony to be the reason. It was so obvious now. Of course Anthony would be the type to kiss any girl, even if it was his best friend's girl. And Adrienne was the type who got what she wanted, most of the time. Evan hadn't suspected Anthony, and he guessed Adrienne had her reasons, even if he couldn't understand them. He was stupid. There was no other way to put it. He was just stupid.

The confusion and desperation turned to bitterness. "I think we need time to think on this," he snarled, glaring at Anthony. He couldn't think of anything else to say. His only thought was that he needed to think. Right then, his brain wasn't moving. He couldn't think. But he knew that this time, he wasn't leaving. Instead, he walked to the door into the bedroom. He didn't pause as he opened it, stepped inside and shut it, more forcefully than he'd meant to. Sitting on the bed, he put his elbows on his thighs and laid his head in his hands, a small moan escaping his throat as his head began to pound.

[Anty]

Anthony's feet slowly stopped beating against the cabinets until there was complete silence. He watched Evan, confused. "Think on this? What's there to think on?" he asked, but Evan didn't hear him. He bit his lip, everything around him a blur. Evan was confusing him. He was like a roller coaster of emotions. First he was happy, then he was ecstatic, and everything went downhill from there. Until now. Now Anthony wasn't sure what he was, he just knew he wasn't here. He was in his room. What he was doing, Anthony didn't know. For all he could tell, maybe he was calling Adrienne and asking her if she would like to get back together. Maybe he was crying, or maybe even committing suicide. It wasn't his fault that Adrienne had broken his heart. He didn't think it was. He did the right thing by keeping Evan happy, didn't he? Did Evan really think that it was Anthony's fault she had broken him? Sure, he had kissed his girlfriend, but Anthony was convinced that wasn't the first time she had cheated on Evan, and probably not the last.

He stretched, letting out a breath of air. "And now you're just a slimy, two-faced, backstabbing piece of gum on the bottom of his shoe," he told himself, jumping off the kitchen counter. He left the money on the counter, though. He had decided it was no longer his. He walked over to Evan's room, but paused at the door. For all he knew, Evan could have a gun ready for him. For all he knew, Evan could be dead. He knocked slowly on the door, his ear pressed against it. He didn't expect an answer, so he began spilling out everything. "Hey... I didn't know you still had feelings for her, that's why I told you. The truth is the best answer, right? That's what my parents always told me, but, hell, I never listened to them. I'll pay you back, eventually. It's my fault. It's my fault about Adrienne, too... I'm sorry." Anthony paused, taking a deep breath. "I should go, shouldn't I? We do need time to think things over. To think everything over. Forgive and forget. Whatever. I'll call you later... Or something," he finished.

[Waddle]

"Don't bother paying me back, Anthony." Saying the full name felt odd on Evan's tongue. It was always 'Ant' or 'Anty', but right then, he wasn't in the mood. Evan didn't want Anthony's money. He realized that he didn't want anything to do with the guy anymore. He wanted to shout at Anthony to get out. Yes, it hurt him that Anthony had kissed Adrienne. But no, he doubted that Anthony was the reason that Adrienne had left him. If that had been the case, they would have been together at least for a little bit. For all you knew, they could have been. He pushed that thought away. He lifted his head and glowered at the door, picturing Anthony on the other side.

He's enjoying this, I bet. No, Anthony wasn't that bad.. Was he? Yes, cooed a voice. Anthony was a horrible person that took advantage of anyone he could. He's used you, and now that he doesn't need you anymore, he's leaving you. Fists clenched, he stood and began to pace the small length of the room. He didn't know if Anthony had left yet, but the rage was building, and it had to come out, either by hitting something or by shouting. So he shouted. "Just get out!" The few words didn't make him feel any better. He wanted to say something more, but he couldn't think of the right words. He continued to pace, rubbing sweaty hands on his blue-jeans and staring at the ground, turning everything over in his head. Normally, he could come up with a solution. The solution may not have been great, but it worked, usually. This time, though, he could see no option.

He had continued that way for a while, when he slowed to a stop. Fiddling with his lips, he was positive he could still feel where Anthony's had been. He felt bad, now. He had thought wrong of Anthony, and he wanted things to just to back to normal. Unsure if an hour had passed, or just a few minutes, he flung the door open and looked outside, hoping Anty was still there. But no, he was gone. The money was still on the counter. The clock said it was almost 5:00. So much had passed in such a little time. With his head still pounding at the pace of his pulse, he closed the door and collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep within the minute.