Leon Park Is on His Best Behavior

Zeke’s hair was coming off in clumps, falling to the cold bathroom tile in frightening, spectacular amounts. 

“Holy shit,” Leon said.

He locked eyes with Zeke in the mirror for one long, solemn moment, electric razor in hand. Then they burst into laughter.

“Dude, you can’t stop now. You gotta finish the rest of it.” Zeke pawed at his patchy scalp.

“Wait, just wait.” Leon’s body was still shaking, his lungs still gasping for air. He had to turn around and stare at the unadorned wall before the laughter dissipated and left his hands steady.

With stoic resolve, he cleaned up Zeke’s hair on either side of his new mohawk. They were at Leon’s house because his parents were both at work, coming home reliably late in the evening. The haircut had been a spontaneous decision by Zeke, but as soon as Leon had gotten the text the night before, he’d started watching tutorials on YouTube. Don’t worry if it’s not good, I can buzz it all off if you mess up, Zeke had said. But he’d also said: I trust you, man. Anyway, Leon didn’t mind learning new skills, especially if it involved working with his hands. It got him out of his head, which lately only seemed to play every awful thing he’d ever thought about himself on a never-ending loop.

“Willa’s gonna freak,” Zeke said, but he was grinning with exhilaration.

“Nah, she’ll be into it. Willa’s cool. I don’t even get why she hangs out with—” Leon swallowed, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

Zeke laughed, rubbing the shaven sides of his head with both hands. “You know what, I’ll give you that one. That’s progress.”

Mostly thanks to Willa’s pressure, Zeke had been on Leon’s case about laying off Cassidy Weaver. He had gone almost forty-eight hours without bringing her up in a complaint or complaint-adjacent way. That deserved some recognition. Was Cass getting the same talk from Willa? (Probably, actually—Willa was nothing if not fair.) But was Cass trying at all to be less insufferable, or hide how much she hated him? Absolutely not, if the way she’d stared at him yesterday in the quad was anything to go by. Afterward, Leon had gone to the bathroom and inspected his face for sudden-onset volcanic acne or salad stuck in his teeth. Nothing. Cassidy Weaver just hated his guts and was disgusted by the simple sight of his face.

But for some reason, it was always a two of them problem. As in: “Those two can’t be in the same room without sniping at each other.” Also see: “Can’t the two of you just get along? It’s my birthday!”

Yes, the latter was a Willa quote. And yes, that incident was the reason the two of them were on thin ice.

So, fine, whatever. Leon could play nice.

“Speaking of Cass, have you ever thought about…” Zeke grinned suddenly, self-consciously, then began dusting little hairs off his torso. He’d removed his shirt earlier, which Leon threw at him now.

“Thought about what?”

“Never mind. I shouldn’t say.”

Zeke pulled on his shirt and squatted down to sweep his hair into a neat little pile with his bare hands. Leon wrinkled his nose and handed Zeke a dustpan.

“Well, now I definitely want to know what you were going to say,” Leon said.

Zeke looked up from where he was using the dustpan in a way that made it abundantly clear he had never used a dustpan before. “Promise you won’t get mad.”

“I cannot promise that.” Shoving Zeke aside, Leon scooped up all the hair and threw it in the trash can in a matter of seconds.

The two trundled out into the hallway and towards the kitchen, in search of the leftover kimbap his mom had made last night. 

Swiveling a chair and sitting in it backwards, probably in mimicry of something he’d seen on TV, Zeke continued, “Okay, well, at least try to remember that I’m your best friend and I have your best interests at heart and I never told anyone about the time you shat yourself at Jenny Gonzalez’s birthday party—”

Leon’s head popped up from behind the open fridge door. “That was in the second grade!”

“Do you wanna know or not?”

“At this point, maybe I don’t.”

Having procured the goods, Leon slid the Tupperware container across the table towards his beloved, super annoying best friend, and handed him a pair of chopsticks. He plopped into the chair across from Zeke, who was now sitting normally.

“Well, if you get mad, blame Willa. This was her theory, and in my defense I thought it was total bullshit at first. But you know Willa. She gets you with her, like, logic and evidence and shit.” 

“Right. Nefarious of her.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger, that’s all I’m saying. Willa thinks you and Cass just have a lot of…unresolved tension.” Zeke chewed, swallowed. “Wow, this is good. Is your mom single?”

“Dude, gross. And no shit, Cass hates me.”

“No, I mean…tension.” Zeke began, impressively, to do the wave with his eyebrows.

Leon blinked back, uncomprehending, face stuffed with kimbap.

“You know, like…” Here Zeke made an obscene hand gesture involving one of the chopsticks.

“Jesus,” Leon mumbled. His face had gone uncomfortably hot. “My grandma gave us those chopsticks.”

“Sorry, man. But am I wrong? You think she’s cute, right?”

He observed the floral-patterned tablecloth with immense interest. “I mean, she’s…yeah, objectively, she’s not ugly. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Willa thinks you guys would get over your little feud if you two just…hooked up.”

Leon stared into the guileless, sincere face of his best friend, who had obviously gone mad. “That’s…insane. Also, there is one problem with that brilliant idea. She wouldn’t—neither of us want to do that.”

“It’s funny, that’s what I said.” Zeke pointed at his own chest with his chopsticks. “Then Willa pointed out that Cass is always checking you out. I didn’t believe her at first, but I did some observation.” The chopsticks pivoted to point at Leon. “Nine times out of ten, she’s staring at you.”

Leon shook his head. “In disgust, I assume.”

“Most people don’t like to stare at things that disgust them. Besides, like, the people who are really into pimple popping videos.”

“Shockingly, you are not really selling me on this.”

“Hey, just a thought, man.” Zeke shrugged. “You promised, you wouldn’t get mad.”

“So this is your house.” Leon spun slowly in a circle. Very, very slowly. The handful of beers and half a joint he’d smoked at Ellery’s party were making their effects known.

“Yeah.” Cass said it defensively, as if expecting an insult to follow.

But he was on his best behavior. “Cool. I like the…uh, wallpaper.”

A crack in her hard exterior, a flicker of surprise. “Thanks.”

Everyone else had already made themselves comfortable in the living room. Willa and Zeke were giggling at nothing together on the couch. Izzy splayed in an armchair and announced that she was hungry.

“Ooh, should we order something?” Willa asked.

Izzy perked up. “What’s open right now?”

“Let me see what we have,” Cass said, walking into the kitchen. The light flickered on there, casting a warm yellow glow over her figure. Her hair. Maybe the marijuana was melting his brain like all the D.A.R.E. classes said, because Leon couldn’t look away.

The party had been fun before they’d had to leave. Someone’s older brother had bought them a keg. Someone else’s cousin knew a guy, so there were a few joints being passed around. Allison Vu had flirted with him, a lot. Cass…Cass was always there in the periphery of his vision. Talking to Willa and Zeke. Laughing, her head thrown back. Dancing with Jasper Frye, of all people.

He'd thought about what Zeke had said, mulled it over between classes, before bed, while brushing his teeth. All to come to the conclusion that not only was Zeke certifiably insane, but so was Willa, because apparently it was her idea in the first place. Cassidy hadn’t seemed to look at him once during the party. But thanks to Zeke’s mad ramblings, Leon had been staring at her. She was always trying, trying so hard. Just looking at her made him tense. What did it take to make her chill out? Lose control? And what if Willa and Zeke were right, and he could be the one to do that for her?

Insane, these were insane thoughts.

Now, Cass was pulling things out of the fridge, then turning on the stove. Somehow Leon found himself at the kitchen counter. “What are you doing?”

She avoided eye contact, unwrapping cheese and butter with efficient, brusque movements. “Making grilled cheese. Is that okay with you?”

“I was just going to ask if you needed help.” He shrugged, inching just a tad bit backwards. She was brandishing a knife.

“I’m good.” She hesitated for a fraction of a second, her gaze lingering on his face. No trace of the usual disgust, only a hint of uncertainty. Maybe even curiosity. Her eye makeup had smudged a little underneath her lash line, and her lipstick was all faded. She looked, impossibly, even prettier than in the beginning of the night. “Thanks.”

“All right.” Leon retreated back into the living room, palms up and open. On his best behavior.

Minutes later, Cass was handing everyone diagonally sliced grilled cheese sandwiches, still hot to the touch. There was whooping, a chorus of “Cass, you angel.” Someone clapped.

Leon took a bite and made a noise he was not proud of. “Cass. This is so fucking good.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was blushing. “You’re drunk. Or high. Or both. Everything would taste good to you right now.”

“Two things can be true at once.”

She laughed. Barely, but still. Cassidy Weaver, laughing at a joke he’d made. Miraculous. Impulsively, he moved over on the couch and patted the space next to him.

She arched one brow. He flashed her an easy smile. “Come on, Cass. We can be nice to each other, can’t we?”

“I’ll see it when I believe it,” Izzy said loudly.

Dramatically and with resignation, Cassidy plopped down next to Leon. With the four of them on the couch, it was snug. Her arm and shoulder pressed into his side. She tossed her hair back, and he caught the scent of her shampoo, or whatever concoctions girls sprayed into their hair. For an agonizing moment, he felt paralyzed. His tongue sat heavy in his mouth. If she’d said anything to him then, anything at all, he would have malfunctioned spectacularly.

“It’s a Christmas miracle!” Zeke shouted.

“It’s nowhere near Christmas,” Cass huffed. He could feel the swell of her body when she spoke, when she breathed. Then, turning to him, she said, “You smell like weed.”

“That’s, uh,” Leon swallowed heavily. What did she smell like, vanilla? Sugar? Sunshine? “That’s because I smoked weed.”

Zeke began laughing uncontrollably, which made Willa begin laughing. Izzy asked what had happened, she’d zoned out for one second. Cass stiffened next to him.

“Sorry,” Leon said quickly. “I forgot, are you not cool with that?”

“Of course I’m cool with that,” she said. Her ice princess demeanor was back, that glare like he’d kidnapped her dog or something. He was nothing but dirt beneath her shoe. It was stupid of him to think she could ever like him.

“Be nice, Cass,” he murmured, leaning into her. Just so she could hear.

She met his gaze. He pretended not to see the pink flush climbing her neck. “I am being nice. I let you into my house. I made you grilled cheese.”

He grinned. “It was a very good grilled cheese.”

Her posture relaxed slightly, softening. “You’re welcome.”

“You don’t have to try so hard to hate me, you know. I’m not that bad.”

Instead of stiffening again, she just looked at him. Had they never looked at each other like this before, this close, without barbed words in the way? Her lips parted, just the tiniest bit.

“What are you two lovebirds talking about over there?”

The moment shattered, reality pulling them back into the living room, their friends all around them. There was a sudden chasm between them again. Cass cleared her throat, tucking her hair behind her ears and glancing all around the room. Izzy was talking to Willa and Zeke next to them. No one had seen, no one had noticed this small break in the universe, when Leon suddenly felt like the thoughts that had plagued him for the past week weren’t so insane after all.