“Huh? What’s going on out there?” Jazmine asked.

I followed her gaze over to the door. There was a vague rumbling outside, like the blaring of speakers echoing through the hall. What was the source of the noise? Naturally, there was only one person I wished for at that moment in time.

“Might be Lance,” I said hopefully.

“Ugh.” Jaz did not seem to be a huge fan of Lance ever since their talk that morning. I couldn’t say it was entirely his fault, but even I had to admit that he did bring it upon himself. I turned to Zoey, who seemed content with working at her computer rather than giving the sound any attention. As diligent as ever.

“HEYYYY!” A scream almost like a battle cry followed the large thud of the door being swung open. The thing moved so forcefully through the room that I thought it had been yanked off its hinges. The sound of a metal song, one that I quickly recognized as ‘Change’ by Deftones, swept the room up like a hurricane that sought to envelop the previously tranquil atmosphere of the photography club.

“Sooooooorry to keep you motherfuckers waiting!”

As if on cue, Lance slid into the room on his knees, singing along with the Bluetooth speaker clasped in his hand as if it were a microphone. He leaned his head forward, jerking it back and forth occasionally as if he were a rockstar putting on the performance of a lifetime.

“Oh my god please stop, you’re embarrassing me…” I muttered. He was obviously high. Cannabis only amplified his insatiable pleasure for acting the fool in front of people he barely knew, and I hated every second of it. The shame of it happening with Zoey and Jaz of all people was killing me inside.

“What, dude? You gonna pretend you’re not a Deftones fan too? Come on bro, rock it out with me!”

He got up and slid his way onto the sofa, pressing against me as he continued singing into his fake microphone. It was baffling how much the atmosphere in the room had changed. I had been trying my best to keep myself together in front of these two girls in probably what was the defining day of my social life at school, and he just waltzed in and did… that. To say that I was having an out of body experience would be putting it lightly.

“Come on Trist, sing it!” He held the speaker out to me.

“I’m not singing!”

“Boooring! Jaz, you’re cool, right? Come on, sing it!”

“Well I would, but. I don’t even know this song though?”

“WHAT?” Her comment knocked him out of his stupor. “What the, please tell me you’re joking.”

“Hey, it’s a cool song. I’ve heard it once or twice before. But it’s not like I know the lyrics or anything.”

“Oh, come on. God, is there no one cultured in this whole club?”

As he said that, he spread his arms out in exasperation, and ended up knocking over the cup of tea I’d prepared so carefully just moments earlier.

“Ah! No, no, no! My tea!” Jaz yelped and lifted the cup back up. However, some of the liquid had already spilled over the table, spreading like an infectious disease. She reached for some nearby napkins and tidied it up as best as she could before anything fell off the edges.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Lance said. “Anyway, Deftones is the best band of all time.”

“They’re okay,” Zoey said without turning away from her computer.

“Ohhh? We have a picky little music critic over here. Yeah, princess? Just what counts as good music to you then?”

“Radiohead.”

“What the fuck, RADIOHEAD?” He burst into laughter as if it were the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “Who the hell listens to Radiohead to jam out, dude? That stuff’s for lonely redditors. It’s like one of the biggest loser bands of all time. Deftones is obviously just way better, and they’re for fans of REAL music.”

Zoey, clearly not interested in following him into an argument, did not acknowledge his remark. She merely continued focusing on whatever she was busy with while allowing the music to take over the room once more.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Lance said, before finally turning the speaker off. “Anyway, I’m here to join your club or whatever.” He handed his membership form to Jaz, who reluctantly accepted it with furrowed brows. “I’m not going to do anything though. You guys NEED me or whatever, right? You’re not allowed to be picky. I’ll come in every few days to hang out with Tristan, but that’s about it. Oh, is that coffee?”

Lance, completely distracted by the sight of the table in the back, sauntered off over to make himself something to drink.

“Tristy...?” Jazmine asked, finally done wiping up the table.

“Uh, yeah?”

“I’m going to throw your friend into oncoming traffic.”

“Just uh, just calm down, okay? It’s not that bad.”

“Not that… not that bad? He’s out of control! I really don’t remember him being like this last week at all! He seemed more… I dunno. Down to earth?”

“That’s probably because Naomi was there,” I said.

“Naomi? Oh, his girlfriend?”

“We’re not dating,” he said after turning the kettle on. “Hey Zoey, where’s the coffeemaker? All I see is this kettle and these little teabags.”

“No coffee. School won’t allow it.”

“What? That’s lame. I’ll bring some instant in tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday.”

“Right. Monday then.”

“So,” Jazmine continued, still pouting angrily. “What about Naomi makes him act differently?”

“She doesn’t like it when he smokes. The smell really gets to her, so he tries to rein it in when she’s around.”

“So… they are dating?”

“No, we’re not,” Lance said. “Trist, why are you talking about me like I’m not even here?”

“Who cares?” I spoke without directly looking his way. “You came in high and started blasting music like you own the place, then you spilled her tea and barely offered her an apology. I think I owe her at least that much.”

“Owe her? Man, we saved their asses. Imagine where they’d be right now without us. I’ll tell you where: disbanded. Gone with the wind. We don’t owe them anything. They should be on their knees thanking us.”

“Yeah right,” Jazmine spoke up. “We didn’t actually HAVE to go with you two, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you could’ve gone with some of the desperate, horny, clout-chasing retards lining up to join this place. But you instead made the right choice and went with us. Funny how that works, huh?”

“Don’t say retard in the club room.”

“Why not?”

“It’s offensive language.”

“’It’s offensive language,’” he mocked her with a snide look. “Offensive to who? Retard, retard, retard. Oh, that’s weird. I don’t see anyone getting offended.”

“Stop it!”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“No,” Jaz said. “But this is Zoey’s club, and what she says goes.”

Lance, seeming to acknowledge the thread of truth to her logic, turned to the red-haired girl at the computer. “Hey Zoey, can I say retard in the club room?”

“As long as we don’t have guests,” she said, once more without bothering to turn around.

“Thanks babe, you’re awesome.”

“Wha-“ Jazmine was shocked. “Come on. Don’t encourage him...”

After realizing that Zoey wasn’t going to bother responding to any of the mess happening behind her, Jaz hung her head and finally admitted defeat. She was getting poutier by the minute. For someone who had such an easy time throwing me off my rocker, I found it strange that she was having so much difficulty handling Lance when he was in his element. But that just made Zoey’s indifference to his tiresome quirks all the more impressive. She wasn’t so much as blinking at his deranged attitude.”

“You know Jazmine, as a gamer, it’s my right, no. It’s my God-given DUTY to say the words that no one else will. We’ve been rejected by society for so long that the sewers beneath our feet are the only place we can find any solace. Would you tell a Scotsman to stop wearing his kilt? Would you deny an Arab his hookah? And if the answer is no, then why deny me my culture, Jaz? What have we, who have been rejected by society every step of the way, ever done to people like you?”

“It’s your culture? Aren’t you just admitting that the only thing you have going for you is being crude and offensive? That’s not something to brag about.”

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“Oh, I’ll brag about it ‘til the cows come home.” Lance said, turning back to the table at the sound of the kettle shutting off. “Society’s stifling grip on public language is a slight against the human spirit, and I will fight it nobly to my grave.”

“That’s… such sophistry. Tristan, do you agree with him?”

“Huh?” I froze up, suddenly being drawn into the argument. “Uh, no not really. I don’t like that word very much.”

“Trist’ll come around to calling people retards eventually,” Lance said.

“No, he won’t.” Jaz wrapped her arms around me. “He’s better than you.”

“Uh, right…” I muttered.

I was between a rock and a hard place with these two. Between not wanting to make a bad first impression as a member of this new club and not wanting to completely sell my friend out for acting like an irreconcilable buffoon. I often feel trapped like this in social situations. Indecisive and unable to take a strong stance one way or another. And this was no different. It also didn’t help that my medication was making me unusually tired. I was half-way to dozing off in the middle of all of it.

“Tea’s done. You’re cool with Earl Grey, right Trist?”

“I guess, yeah. Thanks.”

He placed two coasters down on the small table in front of the sofa, then placed the two cups of tea he’d prepared down in front of it.

“Hey, where’s my tea?” Jaz asked.

“Huh? Oh, I must’ve forgotten. Sorry.”

“You’re an ass.”

“I know.”

But with that being said, he was being far more aggressive than usual. Was he really just letting loose like always? I’d have to be blind to not realize how awkward he was making things. How am I supposed to enjoy my tea in the photography club if Lance was being so boisterous that he was upsetting Jaz? I could only sigh aloud.

After a few seconds of stewing in the silence of the room, Zoey stretched her arms out above her head then turned to face us. What she saw was what I had been dealing with the entire time. Jazmine, moping over how the mood in the clubroom was completely trampled over, Lance, slouched and sipping tea with a lackadaisical, shit-eating grin plastered to his face, and myself, who wasn’t sure whether I should feign apathy or stew in my own discomfort over being wedged between these two.

“Are you three okay?” Zoey finally asked.

“Fine,” Jaz muttered.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, faking a laugh.

“Pretty bored, really,” Lance answered. “I will say, the drama club we visited this morning was way more fun than this. Wasn’t it Trist?”

“Was it really?”

“Yeah. You know, with their twelve angry jurors play.”

“No, that was really bad… I wouldn’t even call it the same play.”

“You think so?” he asked. “As long as the foundation’s the same then it should be okay, right?”

“No way. You haven’t seen the original so you don’t know, but that was hardly the same play.”

“What’re you two talking about? The drama club’s rehearsals?” Zoey, who was now messing around with her camera, asked the question.

“Yeah,” I said. “Have you seen the movie Twelve Angry Men?”

“Sydney Lumet? Yeah, I have. It was surprisingly well done.”

“What, seriously? You like those crappy black and white movies too?” Lance appeared genuinely shocked at her answer.

“I think early films are great for understanding how photography techniques developed and grew into the modern age. I’m more of a Hitchcock girl myself, though.”

Hitchcock. My ears perked up. Zoey likes Hitchcock movies. I almost couldn’t believe my ears.

“Really? What’s your favorite?” I asked suddenly.

“Hmm, probably Vertigo. I enjoyed the portrayal of obsession in the latter half of the film and how it constantly looms over the relationships of men and women. As someone who’s experienced it firsthand to some degree, it’s hard not to appreciate such a convincing performance.”

“What? Look dude, I don’t really care for the pretentious film-nerd drivel,” Lance said. “I was just talking about how the drama club play was kinda fun to watch.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was nothing like the movie,” I said,

“Okay, I’m curious,” Zoey said, putting the camera back on the computer desk. She looked at us both with her full attention for the first time since Lance had come in, resting her chin on her palm, propped up by her elbow which was seated at the arm of her chair. “How different was it, exactly?”

“Well, the jurors were all clowns for starters,” I stated.

“Clowns?”

“Yeah, like… they were making jokes and playing pranks on each other during the discussion. It was just a terrible parody of the original.”

“Trist, it’s still got the SOUL of the original. That’s what matters,” Lance spoke up.

“You haven’t even seen it.”

“Okay, and? Even if they dressed it up and made it wacky and silly to give it new appeal, the play still carries the core message, right?”

“What’s the core message?”

“I dunno, something about the jury system being flawed.”

“Yeah, exactly. You haven’t seen it,” I sighed.

“Listen. The point I’m trying to make is, even if you attach all these crazy accessories to the play, as long as it’s carried by the nature of the original shit it’s based off of, then it still counts as the same thing. Right Zoey?”

She paused for a moment, seeming to consider where the argument was headed. “To be honest, I’m not sure what to think. I haven’t seen their version of it yet, but the question sounds a little philosophical. I’m surprised though, Tristan.”

“Surprised?”

“You seem to be very passionate about this. I’d never have guessed.”

“Oh… Yeah, I really like movies. I watch them with my dad a lot. It’s one of the few things I look forward to every week.”

“Hmm…” She seemed to look at me with newfound curiosity. “Have you ever thought about shooting one?”

“Shooting one? Like, my own film?”

“Well, why not? You’re in the photography club now. You could make a student film if you wanted to.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Directed by Tristan Collins has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” She smiled. And to be honest, it did have a nice ring to it. I love movies, so of course I’d love to make one.

“Ohh, that sounds like fun.” Lance leaned onto me. “Hey, make me the star in your movie. I’ll kick ass, man. I promise.”

But as much as I would have loved to, there was a glaring issue that I couldn’t ignore.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Zoey asked. “But you just said you’re passionate about movies.”

“Yeah, but…”

I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t say that I had no confidence in myself. Sure, I love watching them, but that’s all I’ll ever amount to. I’m no Sydney Lumet, I’m just a fan. I could never create something as wonderful as Twelve Angry Men or Dog Day Afternoon. There’s so much to think about when it comes to making a film, so many different elements that work together cohesively to produce such beautiful works of art. Could I really do something like that? Do I really have the ability to pay that much attention to the details?

“Just try it,” Zoey said. “Jaz and I can handle equipment and filming. You just deal with the screenplay and the directing.”

“But…”

“Or what, are you saying that you’re fine with freeloading and drinking our tea for the rest of the year?” I could tell that she was joking, but I did genuinely feel bad. I don’t want to be a useless member of the club. “The drama club’s play is going to be shown at the school assembly in two weeks. If you think their play is an insult to theater, then why don’t we have them project our film before theirs? Show them a bit of what acting’s really about?”

“Oh, that sounds awesome!” Lance seemed wholly onboard with the idea. “Hey Trist, let’s do it man. Write something great. I’ll put on a goddamn show for those guys.”

“Haha, right…”

I know I said that I didn’t like their play, but facing the prospect of actually competing with them was giving me cold feet. There’s no way I could live up to Zoey and Lance’s expectations.

“Well,” Zoey said, turning back to the computer. “It’s up to you. You’re free to leave for today, but I’ll give you the weekend to think about it.”

“Ah, right…”

“Sweet. Come on Trist, let’s head out. I’ll give you a lift home.”

“Uh, thanks.”

There was a split in the photography club’s current energy. And as I left the room, taking in the atmosphere one last time, I was made aware of the fact that Jaz had not said a word in ages. She was just sitting there in what was her favorite place at school, scowling over just how much of a mess had been made by a certain someone.

While Zoey apparently had an impressive talent for handling him despite their differences, Lance seemed to have gotten under Jaz’s skin easily. For the last few minutes of club time, rather than dealing with him directly, she instead opted to look through her phone. She hadn’t bothered engaging in any of the conversations that were going on around her. Sure, I shouldn’t feel guilty about it. After all, she was the one who went along with inviting him in the first place. But at the same time, she couldn’t have known how out of control he could be when Naomi wasn’t around. Even I was close to being fed up with him near the end.

“Naomi…” Perhaps she could serve as some kind of a solution, I thought. If I could get her to join the photography club, then perhaps he wouldn’t be quite as much of a headache for Jaz as he is right now.

“Huh? What about Naomi?”

“Hmm? Oh, I was just… uh, nothing.”

“What? Of course it wasn’t nothing, man. Spit it out. It’s just us.”

I spoke her name without thinking after leaving the room, and I was going to have to deal with the consequences of that.

“I was just wondering what she’d think of you joining the club.”

“Oh. Well, who cares? She’s the one who got mad at me in the first place,” Lance said.

“Lance…”

“Besides, it’s not like we’re dating. I’m free to go where the wind takes me. And right now, I’m gonna be a movie star in Trist’s badass action movie.”

“Who said it’s gonna be an action movie?”

“Huh? What other kind of movies are there?”

“All the others? Romance? Comedies? Thrillers? Historicals?”

“Boring, boring, boring, turbo boring. Yikes, get some taste, man. Maybe I should write the screenplay and you should just direct it. I’ll put Diehard to shame with my movie.”

“Why are you like this? Even Back to the Future wasn’t an action movie.”

“Yeah, but it was good. Hello? Big difference.”

“Nothing you say makes any sense…” I shouldn’t argue with Lance when he’s high, but something about him just brought it out of me. I sighed as he scrolled through his phone and started playing some more metal that I didn’t particularly recognize. The two of us silently left the building to the excited instrumentals blaring through the speakers.

It was difficult for me to converse with him, which was rare. Usually, I could easily say whatever I wanted around him without fear of repercussions. But today, it felt like I was walking on eggshells. Like I was one mentioning of Naomi away from seeing a side of him I’d never seen before. It was surprising to me in the first place, that he hadn’t told me that the two of them were dating all those years ago. He said it was to spare my feelings, but the more I think about it, the more it feels like he just didn’t trust me enough to talk about it. And even now that I do know, he’s been awfully guarded whenever she comes up in a conversation.

We arrived at the parking lot outside when he looked up at the sky.

“Hey, that cloud kinda looks like a Lapras.”

“Lapras?”

“Yeah, look. Those are the ears up there next to the horn, follow the neck and you’ve got the shell…”

“Oh, huh. You’re right.”

Sure enough, it was a Lapras. Lance enjoyed pointing out the shapes of Pokemon in the clouds like this. At some point, it became a game we’d play together whenever we stepped out into the open.

“Do you think Zoey was mad about what I said?” he asked.

“Huh? Zoey?”

“Yeah, about Radiohead.”

“Didn’t seem like she cared. Why’d you make fun of her if you like them anyway?”

“’Cuz she said Deftones was ‘okay’. How are they just ‘okay’? She was picking a fight, dude. Open your eyes.”

I rolled them instead of opening them. “Okay, sure. But then why are you concerned about making Zoey upset instead of Jaz?”

“Huh? Was Jaz upset?”

“You… never mind.”

Talking to him was like banging my head against a wall. I wanted nothing more than for today to be over at last. It was tiring, dealing with all these colorful personalities. Which was a funny thought to have in hindsight, as a familiar face popped into my view at that moment. Her blonde, shoulder-length hair peeked out from above the second-hand Nissan she had just opened the door to. And just as I was about to look away and avoid that potential danger, I felt something vibrating in my pocket.

Quit pretending you don’t see me.

The text message was displayed clearly on my screen the second I unlocked my phone. Why did I even bother checking it?

We need to talk. Come over here for a sec.

It’s not like I could say no to her. She was equally as complicit as far as sabotaging the game went, but I still didn’t want to risk getting on her bad side. I just wanted to live the rest of my year at school as normally as possible, then walk out with a diploma in hand.

“Hey Lance, apparently my dad’s gonna come pick me up. You can go ahead without me.”

“Hmm? Oh, sure. I guess I’ll wait with you then.”

“Huh? Oh, no. It’s fine. You just get home safely.”

“Really? Because I don’t mind…”

“What? It’s fine, really. I kinda wanted to spend the time thinking alone anyway.”

“I can think with you.”

“Dude.”

“Okay, fine fine. I get it. But if you get bored because I’m not here to hang out with you then don’t come crying to me tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sure. See you next week, dude.”

I stood in place and watched him hop into his car and drive off without so much as looking back at me. He must have wanted to spend more time together. The stuff with Naomi must be harder for him than I thought. I wish I could’ve been there for him, but this wasn’t something I could blow off. Who knows what would happen if I left my partner in crime hanging?