How Green Becomes Wood

"I do. I mean, it's tough, and I'll probably have destroyed my body by the time I'm 30, but if I didn't love it, I'd quit. It just feels... I dunno, it's nice to fly." Sloan told them, "And the leotards are fun."

~~

"They don't make you stink, though," Milo pointed out and didn't argue the point about what shreds your lungs worse. "I don't narc. I probably would be dead if I did. And I'm not saying that to be edgy. But that doesn't mean I get the point of either. My mom smokes. Or, did. I'm not sure now."
 
"They always looked uncomfortable to me," Peter remarked.

Alec nodded. "How do you keep them from, you know, riding up?"

~~

Xander tested the tip of the cigarette and, finding it cold, wrapped it in a piece of paper and stuck it in his pocket. He turned to eye Milo. "You're mom in prison?" he asked bluntly.
 
"Hairspray," Sloan answered, "The kind old women with plastic looking hair use. Or, you know, if you want to be more professional, body glue. But we call it Butt Glue."

~~

"Rehab." Milo answered, just as bluntly, "but, Court-Ordered, so if she messes up again... Yeah." He wasn't watching Xander, "By the way, even if you only smoke outside, the second-hand smoke can still be harmful to other people. 'Specially, you know..."
 
"Ew," Peter and Alec said simultaneously, staring at Sloan in fascination.

"Can you ever do cool tricks in, like, regular clothes or fancier things like a stunt person?" Alec asked curiously.

~~

"That's why I don't do it often and take my time after," Xander said. He narrowed his eyes at Milo. "Especially who or what?"
 
"I mean, yeah. Well, it depends on the outfit, I guess. These jeans are kind of restricting, but if I was in leggings, sure. We just don't compete in it because judges want to see like... the musculature or whatever. I don't really understand why it's looked down on when competitors in the women's division wear unitards instead of leotards, like we're allowed to, but it was a big deal when Germany did at the Olympics."

~~

"Dude." Milo looked back at Xander, blank faced, much more at ease with himself in a one-on-one conversation, "Do you really think I'm purpose trying to antagonize you? Chill. Just pointing out a member of the demographic most hurt by second hand smoke lives in your house. But I didn't know you smoked at all until five minutes ago, how often you do it, or how stealthy you are about it at home." He looked away again, "A lotta people forget that, they think it's safe if it's outside. Then kids get pneumonia and asthma. And if that pisses you off, call us even, and be glad I'm not quick to anger. It's not a great idea to ask if someone's parent is incarcerated, rule of thumb."
 
"I have no idea what that means or what the difference is," Alec admitted. "I was just thinking how cool it would look if you could pull off some of those uneven bar stunts while wearing flashy ribbons or something."

~~

Xander snorted and shoved his hands in his pockets. "If you think I'm annoyed at you, you have figured out how to read me yet." He shrugged and looked away toward the fence. "Not many do, but it's fine. She's fine, too. She's not close enough for second-hand smoke to matter. Anyway, I am annoyed, as it happens, but you got nothing to do with it." He didn't bother addressing Milo's last fact. He knew, and he didn't care. Other people got to ask stupid stuff all the time, why not him? Especially to the guy who dodged questions better than dodge balls even while dropping hints in every direction. If Xander wanted any answers, they'd have to be direct, and direct questions were usually rude.
 
"The leotard is the little one that looks kinda like a one-piece swimsuit. A unitard is like that, except it has full pants, sort of like a wetsuit." Sloan explained, "And the thing with ribbons is it would definitely depend on how they're tied, because even though, like, I can imagine swirling ribbons could look really cool and artsy, they also definitely could get in the way, and that can cause me to get seriously hurt. I have some pretty cool leotards, but the team all dresses the same for competition."

~~

"If I've ever seemed to you like someone who has a good grasp on social situations, you haven't been paying attention." Milo replied, but was relieved he hadn't put his foot in his mouth and gone and wrecked things, "I listen and observe, but I never figured out how to apply any of that information. But I doubt I need to tell you smoke sticks in your hair and clothes..." He trailed off, but chose to drop it. Everybody knew how bad cigarette smoke was, and if Xander wanted to be an idiot and still partake, that wasn't really his business. "What are you, uh, annoyed about?"
 
"That makes sense," Alec nodded thoughtfully.

"Have you ever thought of trying to apply your gymnastic skills to that of being a stunt person?" Peter asked. He doubted it, but it was a cool idea.

~~

Xander was starting to get annoyed as Milo continued to castigate cigarette usage. He knew how bad it was! Well, he didn't think the second-hand stuff was that bad, but even if it was, this was his first in months! He just wanted a little downtime. Was that really too much to ask? Apparently. But, then, it seemed Milo was trying to change the subject. He ran a hand through his hair, his lips tightening. "I dunno. Stuff, I guess. School. Dunno."
 
"I mean, not really. It's not as similar as you might think. There are really fun videos of a stuntwoman attempting gymnastics, and it doesn't go well, and sometimes they switch it up and have the gymnast try stunts... It's just a very different set of skills, I think. I'm trained not to fall, stunt people are trained to fall safely."

~~

"You have a way with words." Milo responded, despite knowing he wasn't much better. "It helps the average person to be able to put a finger on why they're stressed."
 
"Oh well. It'd be cool to see who you could be the stunt double for," Peter grinned.

~~

"Thank you, you're a real solid person just full of sound advice," Xander snapped. He stood and brushed off the seat of his pants. "I gotta get back before Alec worries. Guess you can go back to avoiding people."
 
"I guess people with about my height and build," Sloan replied, grinning, "but I have no idea who those people are."

~~

"Does yelling at me make you feel better?" Milo asked, not flinching.
 
"Alan Cunningham, the actor," Peter grinned. "At least when he was younger."

Alec gaped at him. "Of all the actors, that's the one you come up with? Really?"

~~

"Yelling? You think this is yelling? Good thing you didn't meet me a year ago, then," Xander snorted, moving toward the door. "I don't give a damn what you think because, clearly, you don't give a damn about me or anyone else. The only reason you want to even pretend to be friends is to get your grandfather off your back, right? So why should I keep bashing my head against a brick wall? You don't want to be friends, so I'll give you what you want. I'll show up on Friday, play my part, and leave you alone."
 
"Wow, thanks, Peter that's very flattering." Sloan said flatly.

~~

"There may be degrees to yelling but that doesn't mean you're speaking to me calmly." Milo retorted, his expression and volume unchanged. But he fiddled with his camera strap, which he hadn't been doing before. This was about what he had anticipated. Really it was. Nobody liked him, so it made no sense it would change now. "Yeah, I don't give a shit, that's why I tried to ask why you were stressed." He shrugged his shoulders a little too high and nodded, typical to him, "But I, you know, I find it interesting how, when I--You know, asked if it made you feel better to yell at me, your response was to try to attack me. But you didn't answer my question at all."
 
"Why should I trust you when all you do is hide and avoid even the people trying to be friendly with you?" Xander snapped, trying to deflect how Milo's question made him feel. "You don't want friends, so you push them away, and then you get all sad that no one wants to be your friend. What a surprise." He turned and opened the door. And stopped. One of the janitors stood with one hand out, ready to open the door, looking bewildered. "Ah, shit."

The janitor nodded grimly. "Indeed. Who are you talking to out here?" He craned his neck to see around Xander.

Xander didn't move, knowing that his body currently blocked Milo from view. "No one."

"Oh, really?"

"What, haven't you ever heard of screaming into the void during a stressful day?" Xander countered. If he could stall, Milo could do his disappearing act. No reason for him to get into trouble. "Come on. You must have done it dealing with teens and their trash all day."

The janitor hesitated and then strengthened his resolve. "Good story, kid. Move over."

Xander stepped to the side and let the janitor look out and around.
 
"Isn't it funny how that works?" Milo asked. But then the janitor came out, and he fell silent, watching Xander do his best to pretend like he was the only one out there, as if there hadn't been two voices a moment ago. And he knew he could run, he could very easily slip away and get away without being ever noticed. Which was his goal. But he was staring at the back of this kid who had noticed him, so he had already kind of blown it. And maybe, if he didn't run, it would show he's not all of the things Xander said he was.

Except he knew he was those things.

And he didn't see why he should have to grovel to this kid who became combative when he was asked about why he was stressed. Except this was the kid who stopped him from getting his ass kicked. But it seemed doubtful he would do that now, anyway, because he had learned too much about him, and now he wanted out too.

Which was expected. Really, Xander was surprised it had taken this long. Xander knew him, now. He had gotten the first step wrong in his proof, and missed a few after that.

It didn't really seem fair Xander would get the last word in the conversation, it didn't really seem fair he'd not get the chance to stand up for himself at all, but it was probably for the best. Xander could stand there and battle. That's who he was. Milo would run.

But Xander already knew he would.
 
The janitor spotted Milo and scowled. "All alone, were you? Ha! Come here, you."

Xander glanced over at Milo. Really? Now he chose not to run?

"You two are heading straight to detention," the janitor stated.

"Before or after I report the fact that school security has been compromised for the sake of convenience?" Xander blurted.

The janitor stopped and stared at Xander. "What?"

Xander patted the door. "I don't have a key to this door. No one does but staff, and yet, here we are, with the door left wide open. I wonder who they are going to blame for that?"

The janitor's face turned red. "Alright, smart-ass." He pulled out a notebook. "I'm still reporting this. What are your names?"

"Lyle Rourke," Xander huffed. He nodded toward Milo. "Preston Whitmore."

The janitor wrote down their names. "Fine. Consider this your warning. Get back to school, both of you." He glared at Milo and herded him over to walk with Xander, making sure they were both heading down the hall together before slamming the door shut.
 
Milo said not a word to the janitor, and just hurried after Xander silently until after they were out of sight. Then he halted, and couldn't help but just stare at the other teen, because, frankly, he had absolutely no idea what Xander was going to do, now. It seemed absurd to immediately go back into yelling at him, after it being broken up, but it felt equally stupid to say, 'right, well. See you Friday.' and walk off. It was unfinished, which, to be fair, Milo was used to, but that didn't mean he liked leaving things that way. And there was a lot he wanted to say, but clearly talking to Xander was like walking on egg shells, and he didn't--he couldn't---There was too much, and he had to get busy repressing it all, because otherwise--So the only real option was to wait for Xander to speak first. To set the tone.
 
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Xander realized Milo had stopped after a couple of steps and glanced back to see the expected look. Right. There was still that to deal with. He looked away, his frustration still there, but it had sidestepped to allow plenty of room for cold guilt and exhaustion. He was so tired. "I don't know what you want from me," he finally said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I suck as a friend, even with easy people. I don't know what you expect or want or anything. Heck, I don't even know what I want from myself. All I know is..." He turned farther away and ran a hand over his face with a muttered expletive. "I'm tired. I need to get back to the cafeteria. Alec's going to be worried."
 
"I just wanted to know why you were stressed. You know. So you could talk about it. If you needed to. I wasn't really thinking further ahead than that." Milo replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. "And smoking is stupid, and I know I could've been more chill about that, but I don't really 'get' choosing an addictive substance. At least not one known to..." He scrunched his face, then released it, "I didn't mean to press a button, but also... I'm not gonna hang out with someone who is going to jump from being frustrated about something that's got nothing to do with me to attacking me without at least trying to say, 'I don't want to talk about it,' or 'that's really not helpful.' I'd rather be alone than deal with that.." He shrugged again, still too high, "Go back to lunch. Maybe take the long way and stop at the vending machine if you want an excuse."
 
"Then you shouldn't be around me," Xander said bluntly. "Not that you have much anyway. For your sake. You can hang with Alec if you want. He's better at friends. For once, I'll keep out of your way." He turned and walked away, but he didn't take the long way or stop at the vending machine. The long way would just take more time, and he didn't have any change for the vending machine, anyway. It was best to just get back. He tried to ignore the sharp feeling in his stomach. For once, Milo had reached out, tried to be friends, but in typical Xander fashion, he'd tromped all over that possibility. He felt like he'd gone back to how he was a year ago. All he could do was cause people pain. What sort of person did that make him? Certainly not good friend material. He shook his head. Whatever. He'd known that all along. Trying to change just seemed to be making things worse, not better. He took a deep breath and shoved it all down as far as he could. Suppress and ignore. That was the only way to survive the rest of the school day.

Alec looked up and smiled. "He's finally back! Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, just stomach bug," Xander muttered, sliding onto his seat. "What are you guys talking about?
 
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