The Boy Who Looked Like a Girl

He stumbled into the bathroom. His reflection stared back at him, angry. It was so much easier to hide when there was no one to hide it from. Blue eyes had a vice on Ville's heart as he wiped at the mascara that had run down his face, tried his best to tame his hair.

Sailing out of the bathroom, ignoring the lustful looks of the people he passed, the smirk of a brown-eyed man, the angry curse from a girl whose boyfriend was glancing the wrong way, the low whistle from a man nearly old enough to be Ville's father although he looked much younger.

Not wanting to see the blonde bartender who knew him by name, Ville pulled out a twenty and walked up to the other end of the bar. "Three shots of vodka." he said, trading off his bill and muttering 'keep the change' as he downed all three shots quickly. He turned around to leave and nearly ran into Bam.

"Finally. I've been looking for you everywhere." Bam said, fake pout on his drunken lips. "I was startin' to think you didn't wuv me anymore."

Despite how much Ville felt like he was going to explode, he couldn't help but give a smile at how completely pissed the younger boy was. "Come on, Bammie. I think it's time to go."

"You gave me a nicka name."

"You're so smashed." Ville said, a laugh slipping from his lips. It surprised him enough that he stopped moving for a second, until Bam grabbed his hand and started pulling him through the crowd. "Where are we going?" Ville asked.

"Dance with me!" Bam demanded, putting his arms around Ville's neck and pressing their bodies together.

The boy who looked like a girl stopped moving, stopped breathing. It's okay. It's okay. He's drunk. It's okay. Breathe, dammit! Breathe! It nothing like that. Get that out of your head. He's not like that.

Ryan saved him, coming out of nowhere and pulling Bam away. "He's a bad flirt when he's drunk, just for future reference. And he doesn't discriminate at all."

Bam laughed.

"You ready to get out of here?" Ryan asked Ville, who nodded. "A'right. I'll peel Raab from whatever unfortunate girl he managed to find. Why don't we meet you at the car?"

"Sure." Ville grabbed Bam by the arm, hand shaking. "Come on, Bam. Let's go." He pulled Bam out of the club with relative ease, ignoring the doorman who winked at him. I won't be able to get back in here anytime soon. he thought with an odd smile.

"Where'd you go?" Bam asked as they were walking down the sidewalk. The city air--tainted only by smog rather than smoke, liquor, sweat, and sex--seemed to be clearing his head a little.

"I was just running around." Ville lied. "You must have kept missing me."

"I wasn't trying to shoot you." Bam said.

Ville laughed. "You're so clobbered. How much did you drink?"

Bam gave an innocent shrug, complete with innocent smile, as they reached the car. He pulled on the locked door handle, pouting when Ville made no move to unlock it, lighting a cigarette instead. "Vill-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa." Bam whined.

"Oh, hush."

"Then gimme a cigarette."

Rolling his eyes, Ville handed his to Bam, lighting another for himself.

Bam had managed to burn himself twice and Ville had gone through three more cigarettes when Raab and Ryan showed up ten minutes later.

"You too drunk to drive?"

"I've driven drunker." Ville said, sure that sentence would make a grammar teacher cringe.

Ryan opened his mouth to offer, but Raab cut him off. "You don't want him to drive when he's fucking sober." Bam laughed. "I'll drive. I only had two beers."

"What's the point of going to a club if you're only going to have two beers?" Ville asked, making Bam hand his keys over.

"Getting pussy." Raab said as if it were completely obvious.

"If you got laid I'll do Bam." Ryan said as they got in the car.

"I got close!" Raab said, starting the car.

Ville climbed into the back of the Civic with Bam, tensing slightly when the boy laid his head on Ville's lap, but making no other protest.

* * *

Ville had fallen asleep sometime during the forty-five minute trip back to town, head against the window, hand fallen so it was resting on Bam's chest. Both were jolted out of sleep by Raab honking the horn and the two boys in the front seat laughing hysterically.

Quickly, Ryan informed Ville of the excuse he and Bam had come up with for their arrivals at their houses at four in the morning. "Ape and Phil sleep like the dead, so they won't even hear you come in. When they find you in the morning, you're going to say there was an emergency with the Taylors, like someone in the hospital. And we're going to tell our parents the same thing."

Ville had called his 'guardians' from Bam's house and left a message on their machine from a gas station payphone before they got to Philadelphia, knowing they weren't going to be home until midnight, so there was no reason to add him into the plan.

"Why the Taylors?" Ville asked, yawning.

"Because no one talks to them except you."

Ville didn't say anything, just tugged at the wrist of his long sleeved shirt.

* * *

Lights on the car off, Ville quietly pulled it into the Taylors' driveway. Knowing how incredibly stupid it was to walk around town at four in the morning, even if there were only three thousand people living in it, they did anyway.

After they slipped inside through the backdoor and then into Bam's room, the younger boy threw a pair of flannel pajama pants and a tee shirt at Ville. "Your clothes'll probably tip my parents off about us lying."

Ville panicked slightly at the thought of his wrists being exposed to Bam. "D-Do you have a sweatshirt?" he asked, hoping it wouldn't sound strange.

But Bam just dug around in his dresser and tossed one to him.

"I'm going to wash my make up off." Ville said, disappearing before Bam could say anything. He changed in the bathroom, half panicked that Bam would walk through the door at any moment, cursing the Margeras for not having a lock on the door. Then he washed his face, wishing soap and water could scrub away the bruise on his neck, the ugly marks on his wrists.

* * *

"Ville," Bam asked drowsily after they got into bed, "are you gay?"

"Why?" Ville asked, terrified. He hated that question. He never knew why anyone would ask it, never knew what their response would be.

"'Cause you were flirting with that guy to get into the club. And what was up with that bartender giving us free drinks?" Bam yawned.

"I just know how to get into a club." Ville said defensively. "And the bartender . . . he just likes me's all."

"Okay." Bam said. "But are you gay?"

Ville didn't say anything, hoping Bam would fall asleep before he had to answer. But he knew it wouldn't happen. He would never get off that easy. His life was just a string of bad luck.

"I don't care if you are." Bam said through a yawn. When Ville still didn't say anything, Bam opened his closed eyes.

Ville winced as those blue orbs stared at him.

"You don't know?" Bam asked.

Ville shook his head. It was easier than telling the truth. Bam would hate him if he knew, if he knew what Ville was thinking, why he was fighting tears.

Bam shrugged before closing his eyes again. "'Kay."

Ville buried his face in his pillow, silent tears streaming down his face. I hate you. Why do you have to be so fucking innocent? But he didn't hate Bam. It was the complete opposite. Promise me, Ville thought, wishing Bam could hear his words. Promise me you won't ever understand why I'm like this.

* * *

"What happened?" April asked.

Ville shrugged, thinking quickly. "Brenda just asked if I had anywhere I could go. I would have called, but it was so late. I hope you don't mind."

April smiled. "Of course not. You're welcome here anytime. Now what do you want for breakfast and don't you dare shake your head at me."

Ville almost smiled at the tone in her voice. A tone that reminded him of his mother before she had gotten sidetracked by all the problems of having five children. His parents didn't even notice when he stopped eating meals, just grabbed a granola bar before he went to school.

April put her hands on her hips when the teenager didn't say anything. "You are going to end up in the hospital, mister. I could probably put my hands around your waist." she pointed at him with the spoon she had been stirring her coffee with. "Now sit down while I make you breakfast."

Bam came inside with the mail, grinning at the looks on both April and Ville's faces. "She force feeding you again?" he asked his friend. "I'd tell her to stop," Bam said before April could scold him, "but we need to fatten you up so we can butcher you for Thanksgiving."

April rolled her eyes when Ville gave a laugh, slightly confused. "Thanksgiving?"

"It's an American holiday." April said.

"Where we stuff our faces as much as possible." Bam added. "You'll probably gain ten pounds just from smelling Thanksgiving dinner." he said, laughing at the look Ville gave him.

* * *

April drove Bam and Ville over to the Taylors' so Ville could get a clean change of clothes. Fortunately, she had to run an errand, so there would be no questions of what the "family emergency" the night before had been.

It wouldn't have mattered, however, Ville discovered when they got inside. Bryce was at work, of course, and Brenda was out. Ville lead Bam to his room, giving an inward sigh of relief that his bed was made. No awkward questions about the blood that may have been on the sheets.

He dug through his dresser while Bam looked around. He stooped down and picked up a picture frame that had been lying on the floor. The glass was broken, but he could see the picture. "Is that your family?" he asked.

Ville glanced at the picture before turning away quickly. "Yeah. Right after Aliisa was born."

"What are the other three's names?" Bam asked, oblivious to the fact that Ville didn't want to talk about his family.

"Ilona's the next youngest. Miia and Mikeal are twins." Ville said, pulling a pair of jeans out of his drawer and a tee shirt. He grabbed his hoodie from where he had tossed it on the floor.

"Why don't you crash an extra night?" Bam asked. "Would they mind?"

Ville looked at Bam. He didn't know if it was safe to stay with his friend, if he might disclose something too close to what he had said the night before. It was getting harder to lie to those blue eyes. It was even harder to deny them.

"I'll leave them a note." Ville said, pulling another pair of jeans and another shirt out of his drawer. He opened another drawer and pulled out two pairs of socks. "Can I shower at your house?"

"Nope." Bam said. "Only Americans can use the Margera' shower." He grinned. "Of course you can, fucktard."

"And your parents won't mind?"

"They're not that picky about their shower, Ville."

Ville laughed. "I meant about me spending the night."

"They don't give a shit. Mom said you were 'welcome anytime', remember? Besides, she'll just be happy she has more time to force feed you."

Ville groaned. "Is she ever going to stop doing that?" He moved to pull off his shirt and froze, eyes widening at what he had almost done. He glanced at Bam. "I've got to . . . br--"

"Ville, if you just want me to leave you alone when you change, say so." Bam said, rolling his eyes. "I won't cry at missing out on a chance to see you naked." At that he turned and left the room, laughing.

Giving a sigh of relief, Ville quickly changed his shirt, pulling on the hoodie over it, then slipped into his jeans. He pulled on his socks and Vans. Then he stuffed his extra clothes into his messenger bag. "You can come back in." he called to Bam, walking over to the mirror hanging on his wall and starting to put on his eyeliner.

Bam walked back in, sitting on the bed. "Why do you wear that?" he asked.

Ville paused for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know." he answered, being honest for once. "I just stole some from a store one day and put it on."

"Oooh," Bam pretended to be shocked. "Bad boy."

"You've never lifted anything?"

"Of course I have. I have a whole drawer of eyeliner at home."

Ville nearly stabbed himself in the eye when he laughed.

* * *

If April Margera noticed the fact that Ville had put eyeliner on her son when the pair of them got back into the car, she said nothing.

"Mom, Ville's going to crash with us again." Bam said.

April nodded, watching the two boys in her rearview mirror, at the way her son kept looking at Ville from the corner of his eye, at the way Ville stared out the window not noticing. Any other day she would have been thrilled that Bam wasn't carrying on with curses and dirty jokes, but now she wasn't so sure.

Before she had even turned the car off, Ville and Bam were already heading toward the house.

* * *

The boy who looked like a girl and the blue eyed boy were laying on the ground outside, Ville on his back and Bam on his stomach, despite the fact that April had yelled at them at least three times that they were going to catch pneumonia. They were questioning each other on random things.

"How many people have you kissed? Real kisses." Bam asked after he asked Ville's question.

"I've never kissed anyone." Ville said, his second honest answer since they had started the game, nine questions before.

"Bullshit."

"I haven't!" Ville protested.

Bam narrowed his eyes, but decided to let it go. "I've kissed seven girls." he said. "Your turn."

"Biggest fear." Ville said, fingers dancing with each other, craving a cigarette to hold onto.

Bam thought for a minute. "I don't know. Snakes."

"That's not a fear." Ville said. "That's just something you're scared of."

"Well, what's yours?"

Ville was quiet for a moment. "The dark." he said softly.

Bam was going to say that was the same thing as being afraid of snakes, but stopped when Ville sat up, turning away and biting his lip.

"I need a smoke." he muttered to himself.

But Bam reached out and grabbed Ville's arm before he could move. "Why are you afraid of the dark?" he demanded.