"So, Jack--you gonna go find this Ethan guy, or what?"  Jen blew on her tea, clasping hands around the hot mug.  Pacey had just dropped by to declare success, promising  details later. For all the notice Jack had taken, however,  he probably could have spilled the beans right then. Jen  prodded her friend with her foot. "Earth to Jack?"

Jack glanced up. "Sorry--did you say something?"

"I asked if you were going to find Ethan," Jen  repeated.

Jack poked glumly at the fire. "I...kind of thought  he'd find me," he admitted.

"Jack, you can't always expect someone else to take  the first step. Why don't you go?"

"I don't... It just doesn't feel right," Jack hedged.  "The setting...it's so dark...I'll look for him tomorrow. I  promise," he added when Jen creased her brows. "I  just...need a little more time."

Jen sighed, and fished around for marshmallows. "Let's  make s'mores. I think we could both use the artificially- induced energy rush engendered by carbonized sugar combined  with obscene amounts of chocolate."

"Sounds good to me," Jack agreed.

An hour later, watching a bonfire with his school  friends, Ethan felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to  find Henry, twisting his hands and looking completely  discombobulated.

Casually Ethan strolled away from the flames, finding  a clearing where moonlight provided illumination. "Well?"  He inquired softly.

"Ethan...I..." Henry bit his lip. "There's something I  have to tell you."  

"Oh?" Ethan eyed him a long moment. "Like your real  name, for example?"

Henry's jaw dropped. "How...how did you know?"

With a grimace, Ethan extracted a sheet of paper from  his pocket. "A school friend gave this to me on the bus,"  he explained. "He'd been searching the web and I'd said  something about Capeside..." He shrugged. "Open it."

Gingerly Henry did. Despite the poor light, he could  clearly see a football picture of Jack, with 'J. McPhee'  scrawled beneath it. Blinking, he glanced back at Ethan.  "You knew I wasn't Jack?"

Ethan nodded, pushing dark hair off his face.

"But...then why...?"

Again Ethan shrugged. "I figured there must have been  a reason. If I'd gotten the wrong picture, I thought you  would have just said so when I found you."

"...And when I didn't?"

"Well, I thought it must be one of two things. Either  the real Jack had had second thoughts and didn't want me to  know, so you agreed to stand in, or..." His eyes considered  Henry.  

"...Or?" Henry prompted uneasily.

"Or Jack was doing you a favor," Ethan finished.  "Maybe you were...interested in meeting someone, but  weren't ready to do it under your own name."

Henry ducked his head. "It...wasn't any of those. Or  not entirely," he corrected, folding his arms.

"I sort of guessed that when Pacey showed up," Ethan  said. "He didn't quite fit."

"He's a jerk." Henry scuffed the grass.

Ethan waited. At last he prompted, "So? Do I get to  hear what really happened? And do I get to learn your real  name?"

"Sorry." Henry forced himself to face Ethan. Then he  stuck out his hand. "Henry Parker."

"Glad to meet you, Henry Parker." Ethan shook his  hand. "Now what's a respectable boy like you doing in a  charade like this?"

So Henry explained about the picture, the cafeteria,  Jen, and Pacey. "Jack had nothing to do with it," he ended.  "I wouldn't want you to think...he's a great guy." He was  inspecting the grass again.

Ethan flicked away some wayward ash, expression  troubled. "This girl you like...she did that to you? Just  for writing a poem?"

"Well...I kind of read it aloud in the cafeteria,"  Henry admitted. "I think she felt embarrassed. I was just  trying to be honest," he added. "I just wanted her to know  how much she meant to me, and to show her I was  different...God." He hid his face in his hand. "I feel like  such a total..."

Ethan watched him, shaking his head. "Henry Parker,  you are one in a million. You have more guts than anyone  I've ever met. Come on." He jerked his chin and headed off.

"Come where?" Henry asked, trotting after. "Where are  you going?"

"We're going to find Jen."

"Oh, no." Henry stopped. "I couldn't face her..."

"Henry." Ethan's voice was calm. "I have an idea, but  if it makes you uncomfortable, we won't do it."

"An idea? ...What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about getting even."

Henry blinked. "I don't...want to get even. I mean, I  still care about her. I...can't help it. She's all I think  about, and no matter what she does--"

"Then don't think of it as getting even," Ethan broke  in. "Think of it as...stirring the pot. You never know what  might rise to the surface." He quirked a brow. "Curious?"

Biting his lip, Henry thought for a long moment. Then  at last, he nodded.

Jack was in the tent, searching for a book. Jen was  warming her hands by the fire, enjoying their neighbors'  music and comfortably full of s'mores. From time to time  she glanced up as people ambled past, waving to the few she  recognized, laughingly refusing a few drunken propositions.

She was about to see what was taking Jack so long when  two figures caught her eye. Peering into the shadows, her  gaze widened as she recognized Henry. Oh hell, he wasn't  coming here, was he? Frowning, she watched the pair. Who  was that with him? One of the other football players?  Didn't look like it... 'Oh, my God,' she suddenly realized.  'It's Ethan!' Abruptly her stomach shifted. Was Henry  bringing Ethan here to...

"Holy shit!"

"Jen?" Jack poked his head out. "Something wrong?"

Jen was standing like a statue, staring beyond the  campfire. Apprehensively Jack rose out of the tent and  joined her. He couldn't quite figure out...suddenly his  stomach flipped. "Jen, come on. It's not polite to gape--"  Then he realized who he was gaping at, and his whole face  went numb.

Off in the shadows, to far to hear but close enough to  see with just enough devastating clarity, Henry and Ethan  were wrapped in each others' arms, kissing passionately.

'God, God, God!' Thought Ethan distractedly as Henry's  hands slid over his back. He tried grimly to keep his  somersaulting mind from losing it altogether, but he hadn't  expected a reaction like this.

When he'd suggested they put on a little show for Jen,  he'd thought it would be no more than a friendly, close- mouthed kiss, exaggerated for effect, of course, but still  platonic. But when he'd tugged Henry close and bent to  touch their lips together, he'd gotten the shock of his  life.

Henry Parker never did anything by halves.

The mouth that had met Ethan's was warm and pliant,  without hesitation or restraint. As they had pressed  together, Ethan had felt Henry's mouth open, the delicate  brush of his tongue sending an electric current straight to  Ethan's...toes, he told himself firmly, struggling for  control. Henry tasted of woodsmoke and cocoa, his body  solid and warm, relaxed but rousing, and Ethan knew if he  didn't break this off soon, he wouldn't be responsible for  his further actions.

With a heartfelt groan, he forced himself back. "Jesus  Christ, Henry," he whispered, still clutching the younger  boy.

"Did I...do something wrong?"

"Oh, God-- What is it?"

Henry had stiffened. Revolving, Ethan saw Jen no  longer alone by the fire. He swallowed, letting his arms  fall away. "Oh no."

Henry's face mirrored his. "It's Jack. God. And he  saw--" Facing Ethan, he bit his lip. "I have to talk to  him."

Nodding, Ethan retreated. "I'm sorry, Henry--"

"It's as much my fault as yours." Henry emitted a  humorless laugh. "Guess it serves us right for trying to  get even." He moved to leave, but Ethan halted him.  

Ethan's eyes spoke more than his words. "Henry, I...I  hope I can see you again...I..." He shook his chestnut  head, breaking away. "Go to Jack. Quick--he's taking off."  With a final nudge, he vanished into the shadows.

Hastily Henry pounded after Jack, casting Jen no more  than a glance. "Jack!" He shouted. People turned to stare,  but Henry ignored them. Catching up to his friend, he  grabbed his arm.

"What?" Demanded Jack, eyes blazing. "What could you  possibly have to say to me?"

"It's not what you think," Henry vowed fervently. "You  have to believe me."

Jack simply gazed at him. "I have no idea what to say  to you," he snapped.

"Then just listen," Henry pleaded. "Really, it's not  what you think."

"Then what the hell is it?" Jack demanded. "How can  you possibly explain?"

"Well..." Then Henry paused. Oh, hell. How could he  elucidate without betraying Jen? Of course, Jack would find  out if he talked to Ethan--which Henry hoped he would-- but...

"I thought so." Jack pivoted.

Hastily Henry yanked him back. "Someone told me to  pretend I was you," he confessed. "They didn't say why,  just that it was important for you."

Jack's sharply shadowed face offered no sympathy. "You  expect me to believe that?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"I don't know."

Henry dipped his head in frustration, disheveling his  thick hair. "Jack, you *know* me. You know I wouldn't do  anything to... hurt you. I thought I was helping."

"By making out with someone who came here to meet me?"  Jack inquired in disbelief. "By my campsite? Throwing in my  face what I wasn't brave enough to do myself?"

"We thought you weren't there," Henry mumbled.

"Oh. And that's supposed to make me feel better? God!"  Jack felt his jaw muscles clench.

"Look--I'll tell you what happened. The truth," Henry  promised. "Someone told me I had to pretend to be you, so I  did. But then I found out they told me that just as a joke.  I explained it to Ethan, and we...talked. I told him about  Jen, and he thought that if we...did what we did, maybe it  would get her attention. You have to believe me," he  asserted.

"Who told you to be me?" Jack's words sounded clipped,  his arms tightly crossed. He was scrutinizing the drifted  leaves.

"I can't..."

"Then it was Jen." Sinking to tree root, Jack covered  his face. "God. I should have guessed something was up. She  and Pacey acted a little too innocent... Was Pacey  involved?" He inquired as Henry found another root. The  flickering and snapping of fires continued from nearby  campsites, mingled with laughter. Someone had tuned a  stereo to the alternative station.

"Pacey...'rescued' me," Henry replied with a scowl,  though Jack didn't see it. "Jack...I'm really sorry. I  shouldn't have...but I was kind of mad, I guess. I...wasn't  thinking clearly."

Finally Jack glanced up. "Henry, I just..." He bit his  lip. "How...how was it so easy for you? I mean...you're not  even gay. ...Are you?"

Henry shook his blond head. "And it wasn't easy," he  claimed. "I'm...not good at pretending. You know that.  Trying to be you--"

"I'm not talking about that," Jack cut him off. His  blue eyes were unreadable. "I mean, how could you  just...kiss him like that?"

Henry shrugged. "It wasn't really a big deal," he  replied. "I mean, it's not as though we were interested in  each other. It was just a kiss."

"God, Henry!" Jack swore, hugging himself as if to  keep from flying apart. "You *kissed* a *guy*. Doesn't that  bother you?"

Henry considered, rasping his hands together. "Not  really," he finally professed. "I mean...if it were Jen, I  guess I'd have felt...nervous and excited and stumbling  over my words, but..." He spread his hands. "It didn't mean  anything, Jack."

"Not to you, maybe." Jack ground his teeth. "You  didn't feel anything?"

"Well...it was pleasant, I guess...I like  kissing...but... what do you think I should feel?"

"Disgusted?" Jack suggested. "Freaked? Guilty?  Horrified? Ashamed?"

Henry studied his friend, eyes honest. "Why should I  feel any of that? I didn't do anything wrong."

Jack thrust himself upright. "You're incredible,  Henry. How can you just...do things like that? How can you  be so calm?"

Henry rose also, bracing a hand on a nearby maple  bough. "I don't know why this is bothering you so much,  Jack. What is it?"

Jack paced a few steps, then reverted. "Because I'm  jealous, Henry," he conceded in a tight voice. "How can  this be so easy for you," he continued, "when for me--who  is actually gay--it's like...scaling Mount Everest? Why do  I beat myself up, scramble for courage I don't have and  wimp out, where you breeze right through as if it were no  more than ordering fries at MacDonald's?"

"Because it matters to you, Jack," Henry replied  simply. "Don't you think I'm jealous of how you talk so  easily to Jen? I knock myself out to get her attention, and  fall all over my feet, but you just...move in with her.  Hang out with her. She likes you, she talks to you, and I'd  sell my soul..." He stopped, ripping a leaf from the branch  and tearing it to shreds.  

For several long moments Jack just peered at his  friend. "I...see your point," he conceded at last. "But...I  think there's still a difference. Maybe not in situation,  but in you. It's just not...normal for a straight guy to go  around kissing other guys, even if you're just acting. Are  you at all attracted to men? Are you bi?"

"Why do I have to be anything?" Henry countered,  letting the leaf fall to his feet. He dusted off his  fleece. "I'm just myself. Why does it matter to you what I  am?"

For heartbeats Jack didn't speak, and Henry lifted his  eyes to the fine-boned face. "I just... Forget it," Jack  dropped his gaze, feeling his cheeks flush. "Just forget  the whole friggin' mess. Story over." He wheeled, but once  more Henry stopped him.

"You can say anything to me, Jack," he urged. "It's  not good to keep hiding things. You...tear yourself up.  What did you want to say?"

Jack creased his brows, too conscious of Henry's vital  proximity. It scrambled his thoughts. "I...don't know how  to say it. Ask it. I don't really know what I'm asking...or  if I'm not asking, but just wondering...oh, hell." He shot  his teammate a frank look. "If you're sometimes attracted  to guys, and I'm gay, was there ever a chance...?"

Henry's eyes widened. He blinked. "Jack, you're my  friend. I don't...I don't think of my friends that way. I  mean," he licked his lips. "I don't mean...maybe if we met  under different circumstances...but I'm really stuck on  Jen." He folded his arms, then said quietly, "I'm sorry."

Jack shook his dark head. "Don't be. I mean, just  because there are two guys in Capeside who might not be  disgusted by kissing other guys...it doesn't mean they'll  automatically be attracted to each other." He threw Henry a  fleeting smile. "It's never that easy."  

They stood silently a moment, neither paying attention  to the activities around them. A chilly wind ruffled the  leaves, wafting handfuls to the earth. Finally Jack said,  "So...you met Ethan."

Henry nodded. "He's a...nice guy, Jack. I really think  you should go talk to him. I liked him."

"As a friend," Jack stated flatly.

"Nothing more," Henry agreed.

"But you kissed him."

Henry sighed. "I told you why." He focused on the  other boy. He sensed tension. "Do you...want me to kiss  you, Jack?"

"No--no," Jack waved a hasty hand, then rumpled his  hair. He had to get the word 'yes' out of his head. Never  had he felt so aware of Henry's stolid presence, the tumble  of his hair, the breadth of his shoulders, the perpetually  ingenuous expression. He was like a knight innocent out of  a chaste, childhood fairy tale, completely unaware of his  own allure. Jack wondered how had he had managed to  overlook Henry all these weeks. "That's not what I... How  did Ethan feel about you?" Jack queried abruptly.

Henry frowned. "I guess...the same as me."

"You guess? Do you think he was attracted to you?"

Henry recalled the look in Ethan's eyes before Pacey  descended. "Maybe when he thought I was...meeting him on  purpose," he replied honestly. "Before he knew I  was...stuck on Jen."

"What did you talk about?"

"Oh...things. Capeside. School. Football. Being gay.  Oh, and I should tell you," Henry added, "he knew I wasn't  you. Someone printed him out a picture before he left  school."

Confused, Jack peered at Henry. "He...*knew* you  weren't me? And pretended he didn't?"

"He thought maybe I was covering for you," the younger  boy elaborated. "Or that...you were doing me a favor.  Lending me your name so I could...meet someone  anonymously."

Watching firelight at the nearest campsite, festival- goers dark silhouettes before it, Jack tried to  assimiliate. "What did he...say about being gay?" He  finally mumbled.

"Ask him."

Another pause. "Did he...kiss well?"

"Find out."

Jack shuffled his feet. Nothing felt right. His  insides were twisted in knots. Seeing Henry and Ethan...now  having Henry so close... But was that just impulse? Never  before had he regarded Henry in that light. Other  Capesiders, maybe, but not until seeing Henry abandoned in  Ethan's arms... Had his interest only been wakened by  sudden possibility? Would it as quickly fade? He could only  wait and see. And in the meantime...hope Ethan hadn't felt  the allure of the innocent. He swallowed. "Which way...?"

Henry gave directions to Ethan's campsite.

"What are you going to do about Jen?" Jack asked as  another breeze stirred Henry's hair. He wished he didn't  want to reach out and--

Henry's face had closed, arms still crossed. "Nothing.  You can tell her I get the message. I suppose I'll have to  try to... forget her."

Gently Jack gripped Henry's shoulder. "She's a fool,"  he averred softly.

A wistful smile flickered over Henry's face. Leaning  forward, he briefly pressed his lips to Jack's. "Go find  Ethan," he advised. "Or you'll be a fool, too." Then he  shoved hands in his pockets and strode away.

As Jack wandered back to his campsite, Jen rose, eyes  apprehensive. "Jack, what--"

"I don't believe I'm talking to you," he said  deliberately.

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry--"

Jack cut her a look. "Don't apologize to me," he  recommended shortly. "I was just an innocent bystander. If  you want to apologize to someone..."

Letting her hair mask her face, Jen nodded. "I've  been... thinking. I guess I do need to talk to him."

"Try to see beyond the poetry this time," Jack  counseled, warming hands over the coals. "He's...worth the  effort, Jen. You'll make a big mistake if you don't try."  

Jen's sharp eyes lingered on her friend. "What  happened--"

"Ask him," Jack replied tersely, reaching for water.  "I have something else to do."

After a last look, Jen pulled her jacket tight and  walked away. Soon after, fire doused, Jack took off in the  opposite direction.

Ethan was settled by his tent, poking moodily at his  fire when a dark figure loomed out of the trees. Glancing  up, he watched the stranger step hesitantly into the  firelight. The ruddy glow slanted off high cheekbones and  dark angled brows. Blue eyes were tentative. "...Ethan?"  The boy asked, shifting his weight. "I'm...Jack McPhee."

Ethan cast him a long, measuring look.  

Then he extended his hand. "So you are," he agreed, eyes welcoming. "It's good to finally meet you."

And as their fingers linked at last, they smiled.  

The End