Chapter Text
It starts out as a fairly typical Monday. Cameron is at his locker, switching out his Earth Science textbook for his French one, already mentally planning out all the homework he’s going to have to do when he gets home. When he goes to swing his locker door shut, he finds Ferris standing on the other side.
Cameron has become pretty good at ignoring the warmth in his chest whenever he sees Ferris and the little part of him that thrills at the idea that the prettiest, most popular boy in school actually wants to spend time with him. The feeling is still there, but he likes to think he’s gotten better at handling it.
"Hey, Cameron!" Ferris greets, beaming at him. "Do you have dinner plans tonight?"
"The only plans I have tonight are with the massive pile of homework Mr. Walsh just assigned," Cameron grumbles, turning to head towards his French classroom. Ferris, predictably, follows, even though Cameron is pretty sure he has Geology next period, and that classroom is on the other side of the school.
"Wow, sounds like a pretty hot date," Ferris teases, jostling Cameron's shoulder companionably. Where their bodies touch, Cameron feels electricity spark across his skin. He’s gotten pretty good at ignoring that, too. "But wouldn't you rather we go out tonight? I know you've been dying to try out that new burger place up the street."
"Ferris, I can't," Cameron says, though really, he already knows it’s a moot point. There is simply no winning in an argument against Ferris. His resistance is futile, and at this point, mostly just for show. “My dad keeps talking about shipping me off to military school, and I think he’s actually serious this time. I have to keep my grades up or I'm screwed.”
"One night out wouldn’t be the end of the world, Cameron. Come on! What would you rather do tonight, Mr. Walsh’s homework, or hang out with me?”
The answer, of course, is that Cameron would always rather hang out with Ferris. The trick is not letting Ferris know that.
“Homework.”
Ferris gasps dramatically. “You bite your tongue, sir!”
“Ferris, I’m not kidding, I really have a lot of homework.”
“I promise it won’t take that long. Half an hour, an hour, tops. Please ?” Ferris begs. Cameron can tell from his tone that Ferris is giving his famous “puppy eyes”, but Cameron pointedly avoids eye contact, because that way lies insanity.
“Fine,” Cameron growls. “Only because it means you’ll leave me alone.”
“Great! I’ll tell Sloane.”
"Okay," says Cameron. Then, "Wait, what?"
Cameron has nothing against Sloane. He likes Sloane, a lot. Probably a little too much. (Kind of like how he likes his best friend probably a little too much. But again, he’s Not Thinking About That.)
It’s just that the three of them don’t really hang out, at least not outside of school. When Ferris and Sloane first started dating a few months ago, Cameron had figured Ferris would start hanging out with him less, because that’s what guys who have girlfriends do, or so Cameron’s heard. But Ferris, being Ferris, had done the exact opposite of what Cameron had expected. Not only did Ferris and Cameron continue to hang out regularly, but Ferris insisted on the three of them eating lunch together every day.
The first time they all sat together, Cameron had stuttered and blushed and choked on his own saliva throughout the entire lunch period. Because he was eating lunch with Sloane, the hottest girl in school, and Ferris, the hottest boy in school, and it’s ridiculous for him to feel so disappointed, it’s not like he ever had a chance with either of them, anyway.
And Ferris and Sloane are completely perfect for each other. Cameron would have to be some kind of monster to try and get between them.
Which is why he generally keeps quiet at lunch every day (or at least as quiet as Ferris will allow him to be), and does his best to avoid hanging out with the two of them outside school.
Up until this point, Cameron likes to think he’s been pretty successful in avoiding them. But of course, Ferris has destroyed all his hard work in one blow.
Ferris, who is acting like none of this is unusual. “Meet me outside the school after sixth period, we can walk over together. Sloane will just meet us there since her dad’s giving her a ride.”
“Wait, Ferris—”
“OkI’llseeyouthenbye!”
And before Cameron can protest any further, Ferris has disappeared down the hallway, probably anticipating more complaints.
Damn him. He knows Cameron too well.
—
If Ferris were only the most popular boy in the school, then Cameron would have gotten over this whole thing for him a long time ago. But Ferris is so much more than that, he’s intelligent and funny and a constant surprise, and every time Cameron thinks, That’s it, I’m done, he sees Ferris laugh, or smile, or sees his eyes light up when he hatches a crazy new idea, and all of Cameron’s resistance just melts away.
And if Sloane were only intoxicatingly beautiful, then maybe Cameron wouldn’t be so head-over-heels in love with her. But she’s more, too; Sloane is compassionate and gentle and whip-smart, and the only person Cameron knows who can actually keep up with Ferris. Cameron shouldn’t be surprised, really—after so many years of loving Ferris, how could he not love the one person who was so perfect for him?
God, Cameron is so fucked.
—
When Cameron and Ferris arrive at the restaurant, Sloane is already there waiting for them, sitting at a booth and calmly perusing a menu. Cameron braces himself; logically, he knows that Ferris told Sloane he would be coming, but surely she wouldn’t be happy about Cameron crashing what was very obviously supposed to be a date—
But then Sloane spots them, and her face lights up as she waves them over. Cameron’s heart skips a beat, and he scolds himself because the smile on her face is obviously for Ferris, not him, why is he so stupid.
“Hey, babe,” Ferris greets her before sliding into the booth. The other side of the booth, across from Sloane. Leaving Cameron with no choice but to ask Ferris to scoot down (awkward) or sit next to Sloane (awkward for a whole different reason). The universe definitely hates him.
Either that or Ferris is just fucking with him because he is definitely watching as Cameron carefully slides into the seat next to Sloane, taking care not to bump into her which would be so much easier if she would just move over a little. But Sloane seems perfectly happy to remain where she is, which leaves just a scant few inches between their legs. Cameron can feel the distance between their skin like a physical touch.
“Hi, Ferris,” Sloane says warmly, and then she turns to him, and in the same tone, she says, “Hi, Cameron.”
Her face is so close that Cameron could probably count all of her eyelashes if he wanted to (but even he’s not that much of a creep). The smell of her perfume is so strong that he almost feels dizzy with it. Cameron can barely breathe.
“Hey,” he croaks, and she beams at him like he’s a dog who just performed a trick and not, you know, an awkward teenager barely managing the basics of human interaction.
Something is definitely up. They’re both looking at him, and Cameron has a sudden moment of panic. What if Ferris and Sloane noticed his massive crush on one (or, oh God, both) of them, and this is just some elaborate setup for them to kindly (but firmly) let him down? Cameron would probably never leave his house again if that happened.
But it doesn’t happen.
The waiter comes and takes their order—a bacon cheeseburger for Ferris, a chicken sandwich for Sloane, and the first thing he saw on the menu for Cameron because he was too distracted to actually pick anything. He’s pretty sure he ordered a salad.
While they wait for their food to arrive, they talk about school, about the History presentation coming up next week, about the insane amounts of homework Mr. Walsh always assigns. (“He knows we have other classes, right? Surely someone has told him.”) It’s not so different from when they eat lunch together at the school, though Cameron still can’t shake the feeling that he’s crashing a date.
He’s more than happy to try and fade into the background, but Ferris and Sloane both seem determined to pull him into the conversation as much as possible. They discuss whether Conquest of the Planet of the Apes is better than Beneath the Planet of the Apes (it's not). Their food arrives while Ferris is vehemently insisting that J. Lee Thompson was the best director of the series.
Neither of them mentions Cameron’s inappropriate fixation, or even hints at it, and about halfway through the meal, he finally starts to relax. By the time the check comes, Cameron has decided that he is simply not going to question his good fortune. After all, when the Virgin Mary appears on your toast, you don’t take it to the toaster repair shop, you build yourself a toast shrine and enjoy it. Sure, Cameron is Jewish, but the point still stands.
Sloane’s dad drives them all home after dinner, and luckily Cameron’s dad isn’t home yet so he doesn’t have to answer any questions about where he’s been and why he hasn’t been doing his homework. Even though he has to stay up to nearly midnight finishing Mr. Walsh’s assignments, the warm feeling in his chest never fades, and Cameron can’t bring himself to regret going out. If this is how things are going to be— Ferris and Sloane dating, with Cameron playing the awkward but happy-to-be-there third wheel— then maybe it won’t be so bad after all.