-Ezra-

When we get back to our room after the party, I'm quick to take some of my pajamas to the bathroom and change. It's not that being in his clothes is physically uncomfortable-- it's just that it feels wrong. I like black and purple and big jackets and boots, not red and blue and Letterman jackets and sneakers.

I'm goth, and I like it that way.

I feel more comfortable in my own clothes.

Josh joins me a while later to clean off the makeup, struggling with paper towels, water, and soap.

After watching him fail for a while, I quietly get my makeup bag from our room and bring it back, taking out my makeup removal wipes and offering him the package. "These will work a lot better."

He gives me a look, but takes it from me and uses a wipe to get the rest of the lipstick off, which takes considerably less time than what he'd been doing with the paper towels. "Thanks," he grumbles, taking off the rest of the makeup (and he has the decency to use the whole surface area of the wipe, which is nice).

"Yeah, no problem." I pause. "Thanks for, uh, doing this costume idea with me. I know it was kinda weird for both of us."

He nods. "It was whatever. Better than any other idea."

"Yeah..." I put the package of wipes back in my makeup bag and zip it shut.

We awkwardly brush our teeth together in silence, occasionally side-eyeing each other in the mirror because we've crossed some sort of invisible boundary. We don't know quite what to do now that we're not exactly fighting anymore.

At least, that's what it feels like to me.

We walk back to our room at the same time, me just a couple steps behind because I still get the feeling that he doesn't want to be associated with me. I put my stuff away once we're back, and climb into bed, sort of watching Josh move around the room.

He checks his phone, rearranges his shelf of books, and then finally settles into bed-- at which point I shut my eyes so it doesn't look like I've been watching him.

There's a long, long silence.

Then... "Good night, Ezra."

I open one eye. "Huh?"

"I said good night. Don't read too much into it."

I smile a little to myself. "Good night, Josh."

"Yeah, shut up."

I sleep well, dreaming of some long-lost elementary school friend whose face I forget once I've woken up.

I tell Mark and Tommy about it during free period the next day. Tommy's curled up with Mark in the nest that claims to be Tommy's bed-- I sit on Mark's because it's basically untouched.

"That is weird," Mark agrees. "I mean, something... kinda nice? From Josh?"

"I know!" I throw my hands up. "I don't know what's happening to him. He's not acting like himself, but also I kinda feel like something's changed since last night? Like switching clothes also flipped a switch in our not-friendship? I don't know."

Tommy mumbles something incoherent, and Mark translates, "Maybe you're kinda becoming friends?"

I shake my head. "It doesn't seem like that. It just seems different in a way neither of us know how to handle."

"Like... you aren't taking petty jabs at each other and you're actually getting along now?" Mark explains, like I'm thick.

I groan. "I don't think that's it, really."

"Well, that's all we can think of." Mark gives Tommy's forehead a kiss.

I look between them, kind of... processing. "Wait..."

Mark and Tommy both give me weird looks.

"You guys do, like, kissing?"

"Had you not realized?" Mark asks.

Tommy says one of the only coherent things he has all day, telling me very bluntly, "We're gay, Ezra."

"Well," Mark mutters, "I'm bi, but whatever."

I practically feel my heart go on a flight to the moon. "Me too! I mean, I'm gay, not bi, but yeah. I didn't think anyone else here was queer."

Mark shrugs. "Surprise?"

"And a pleasant one at that," I agree. I'm so happy to have someone to talk to about that stuff.

Mark chuckles. "Okay."

Tommy just snuggles back into his side.