Dead Plate Oneshots I Can’t Choose

Rody Lamoree had a problem. Well, *multiple* problems, but one stood out above the rest: he liked *both* Manon Vacher and Vincent Charbonneau. And it was driving him *insane.*

Sitting in the back of the classroom, his elbow slipping off the desk as he absentmindedly tapped his pen against a half-filled worksheet, Rody sighed. He glanced up at the clock. Fifteen minutes left until lunch. Fifteen minutes of tortured, indecisive thinking, the same cycle he’d been in for weeks now.

On his left, a bunch of guys were chatting about Manon — the school’s *it* girl. Brown hair that seemed to shimmer like molten bronze in the sun, brown eyes that made Rody forget his own name whenever she looked his way, and that dazzling smile. Cheerleader, smart, and effortlessly cool. She was everything high school dreams were made of.

Rody felt a knot twist in his stomach. He definitely liked Manon. She was… perfect. But then, his eyes drifted across the room to Vincent, and that knot did a full somersault.

Vincent Charbonneau, the *complete opposite* of Manon. Dark hair, always a little messy, pale skin, and those black eyes that could stare right through your soul if he ever bothered to look your way—which, honestly, Rody kind of wished he would. Everyone avoided Vincent. He was the “weird quiet kid” with that strange aura of mystery, the type that made everyone uncomfortable but intrigued. Rody didn’t *get* why he was so drawn to him, but the guy was… hot. In a dark, broody, I’m-mysterious-and-don’t-care way.

And that was the problem. Rody didn’t *know* how to pick. Why should he have to? Why couldn’t he just… date *both* of them?

“Hey, Lamoree,” someone whispered loudly from the row ahead. Rody snapped out of his thoughts to see his classmate, Marc, giving him a knowing smirk. “You still drooling over Manon or is it that weirdo Vincent today?”

Rody’s face flushed. He hated that Marc somehow knew *exactly* where his mind was at, even if it was for completely the wrong reasons.

“I’m not—” Rody stammered, his voice lowering to a mumble, “*drooling* over anyone.”

Marc raised an eyebrow. “Right, sure. Tell that to the puddle under your desk.”

Rody groaned and sank further into his seat, giving up any hope of seeming normal today. Not that he ever had much of a shot at that anyway.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Rody grabbed his stuff and stumbled into the hallway, his mind racing. Lunch. Maybe he’d grab a seat somewhere quiet, avoid everyone, and just think things through—figure out if there was some magical way he could solve this problem without his brain imploding.

But, of course, as soon as he turned the corner toward the cafeteria, his eyes landed on Manon, laughing with her friends by the soda machine. His heart did a flip. He could feel his palms starting to sweat. It wasn’t even that he was nervous to talk to her. He’d just *never managed to figure out how* to talk to her. Every time he tried, he just sort of… froze, mouth half-open like a confused fish.

And before he could muster up the courage to even walk in her direction, he saw Vincent. Of course. *Why did they both have to be in the same place at the same time?*

Vincent was leaning against the wall by the vending machine, his arms crossed over his chest and a slight frown on his face like he was mentally judging every single person that walked past him. His usual vibe.

Rody stood there in the hallway, completely paralyzed, trying to decide who he was more terrified of approaching. Manon, who would probably smile and make his heart stop, or Vincent, who would probably just stare at him until he melted into the floor.

He turned to walk back the other way, only to slip on a stray piece of paper and crash straight into a trash can.

Manon turned first, followed by her friends, all their eyes locking onto Rody as he scrambled to pick himself up, face burning.

“Hey, Rody!” Manon’s voice was cheerful, and Rody nearly dropped his stuff again.

“Uh, h-hey!” He stuttered back, giving her a very awkward thumbs-up. *Why did I just give her a thumbs-up?*

Manon giggled, which only made things worse. “You okay?”

“Yep! Just… testing gravity. Still works,” he said, cringing immediately afterward.

She smiled again, that radiant smile that made his brain turn into pudding. “Cool. Well, see you later!”

And just like that, she walked off, leaving Rody standing there feeling like a complete idiot. He’d spoken to her. And, as usual, he had *blown it.*

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Real smooth, Rody. Real smooth.” He mumbled to himself, glancing up just in time to see Vincent looking in his direction. Or… was he? Vincent’s expression was unreadable, like always, but Rody couldn’t help but wonder if he had seen the whole thing.

Rody felt his heart rate spike. *Oh no, what if he saw everything?*

Without thinking, he blurted out, “Uh… hey, Vincent?”

Vincent’s eyes met his for the first time, and Rody swore he saw a flicker of confusion cross Vincent’s face. “Yes?”

Rody opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He stood there, staring like an idiot. Vincent just stared back, clearly waiting for something to happen.

This was worse than with Manon. *Way* worse. Vincent was too… too… *intense.* His whole vibe screamed, “Don’t bother me unless you have something important to say,” and yet here Rody was, bothering him with nothing to say.

“Uh, I like your… shirt?” Rody finally managed to croak out.

Vincent blinked, glanced down at his plain black turtleneck, then back at Rody. “Thanks,” he said flatly. He paused, then added, “It’s just a shirt.”

Rody could feel himself shriveling up inside. He needed an escape, and fast.

“Okay, cool, yeah, uh, see ya!” He bolted down the hallway, nearly tripping over his own feet as he turned the corner and fled to the cafeteria.

—

Rody slumped into his usual seat at the far end of the lunchroom, head in his hands. *This is hopeless.* Manon thought he was a weirdo, and Vincent probably thought he was a complete moron. He couldn’t talk to *either* of them without making a fool of himself.

“Why do I even *like* both of them?” Rody groaned, smushing his face against the lunch table. “This is too hard. I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

He pulled out his phone and opened a message thread with his only somewhat-reliable source of advice: his best friend, Richard.

Rody: Help. I like both Manon and Vincent. This is a nightmare.

Richard: Bro, just pick one. It’s not rocket science.

Rody: *How??* They’re both so… hot. But different. You know?

Richard: You’re hopeless, man.

Rody stared at his phone, feeling utterly defeated. *Hopeless* was right. But as he glanced over at Manon, still laughing with her friends, and then back at Vincent, now quietly reading a book in the corner of the lunchroom, something clicked.

Maybe he didn’t have to *choose* right now. Maybe he could just… enjoy the chaos of liking them both. Besides, it wasn’t like he had to decide his entire future today. He was in high school. High school was supposed to be a mess.

And if there was one thing Rody excelled at, it was being a mess.

“Yeah,” he said to himself, nodding confidently, “I’ll just… keep liking them both. And if something happens, then… cool.”

He took a bite of his sandwich, feeling surprisingly at peace with his decision.

At least for now.

—

Meanwhile, across the room, Vincent glanced up from his book and watched Rody for a moment, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Rody was kind of a weirdo,Vincent thought.

But… maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

—

Rody’s grand epiphany didn’t last long.

After about five minutes of sandwich-induced bliss, the gears in his brain—rusty as they were—began to churn. He tapped his fingers against the table, eyes darting between Manon and Vincent, who were still oblivious to each other’s existence.

“Wait a second…” Rody muttered, frowning as a bizarre new thought popped into his head.

*What if… what if I didn’t have to choose?*

The idea clung to his mind like a stubborn piece of gum. Rody leaned back in his chair, a weird, half-crazed grin spreading across his face. “There’s gotta be a way I can date both of them, right? Like… people do that, don’t they?”

He pulled out his phone again and shot a quick text to Richard.

**Rody**: Can I date two people at the same time?

**Richard**: What?

**Rody**: Like, legally. Is it allowed?

**Richard**: You mean like… polygamy?

**Rody**: Yes. That. How do I do that?

**Richard**: Uh… don’t think that’s how it works, man. You’re not poly and even if you were the two people you wanted to date would have to like each other? Why do you ask?

**Rody**: So I don’t have to choose between Vincent and Manon.

**Richard**: Dude.

**Rody**: What?

**Richard**: …Nothing.

Rody pocketed his phone, feeling pretty confident that Richard’s lack of enthusiasm was just because *he* wasn’t smart enough to see the brilliance of it all.

*Polygamy.* It sounded like a beautiful thing. No choosing, no breaking hearts. Just… mutual happiness, right? Right.

But then, another thought clobbered Rody right in the middle of his brain.

*What if Vincent and Manon didn’t like each other?*

Rody blinked at that troubling possibility. After all, it wasn’t a given. Sure, *he* thought they were both incredible, but… they might not see it.

He gnawed on his lower lip, gaze bouncing between the two of them again.

*Wait…* A spark lit up in his mind, shining so brightly he almost felt lightheaded. *What if I made them like each other?*

That was it! He didn’t have to choose because maybe—just maybe—they could all be together! In a *trio*. A romantic *triangle*. Vincent and Manon just needed to see how perfect they were for each other. He’d be like… like a matchmaker! *For his own crushes*. This was brilliant!

Rody leapt to his feet, ignoring the stares from nearby students. He cracked his knuckles with all the confidence of a man with a flawless plan. *Time to make some magic happen.*

Step one: Vincent. He was a tough nut to crack, sure, but nothing a little charm couldn’t handle. Rody spotted him across the cafeteria, nose buried in some heavy-looking book. Typical Vincent, deep into one of those ancient tomes that Rody barely understood.

Rody swaggered over, doing his best to look casual and *not* like he’d spent the last ten minutes concocting a ridiculous love triangle scheme.

“Hey, Vincent!” he called, plopping down next to him without asking. “Whatcha reading, bud?”

Vincent looked up, startled. He stared at Rody for a moment, clearly surprised by the sudden intrusion into his very *quiet* world. His expression hovered between irritation and confusion. “…It’s a textbook. I’m studying.”

“Nice! Smart guy, huh?” Rody grinned, trying his best to exude confidence. “So listen, random question. You, uh… you know Manon Vacher, right?”

Vincent’s brow furrowed slightly. “No.”

“Well,” Rody said, waving his hand like that was a minor detail, “she’s that cute cheerleader over there. Brown hair, brown eyes, y’know, everyone’s kinda into her? Anyway, I was thinking, maybe you two could… y’know… meet.”

Vincent stared at Rody like he’d just suggested he eat his textbook.

“Why would I want to meet her?”

Rody blinked. “Because she’s… hot? And you’re, uh, *really* cool. Like, you guys would make a great couple, probably.”

Vincent looked even more confused, if that was possible. “I don’t even know her.”

“Yeah, but that’s the *point*!” Rody said, leaning forward with way too much enthusiasm. “Once you meet her, you’ll see. You guys could hit it off. And, uh…” He hesitated, realizing he might need to soften the pitch. “You don’t even need to *like* her romantically. I’m just saying you guys could, y’know, *hang out*.”

Vincent narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to set me up with her?”

“No! Not like that. Well… okay, maybe a little. But just think about it! She’s great. You’re great. It’s just… a win-win situation!”

Vincent closed his book, clearly done with whatever conversation Rody was attempting. He pushed his chair back and stood up, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “I’m not interested.”

Rody watched Vincent walk away, completely unfazed by the fact that his plan had just gone up in flames in about thirty seconds.

But Rody wasn’t the type to give up after one try. He smacked his hands together, brimming with a fresh wave of optimism.

*Okay. Maybe it needs more time. These things can’t be rushed. I’ll just… try again later. Maybe with a little more finesse.*

And with that thought, Rody grabbed his tray, grinned like a madman, and started planning his next move.

Rody spent the rest of the day scribbling in his notebook, not about math or whatever subject he was supposed to be focusing on, but about *Operation Love Triangle*—his foolproof plan to get Manon and Vincent to like each other.

Step one: **Casual Conversations**. He’d plant little seeds, subtle hints, get them talking about how great the other person was without making it too obvious. It had to be *natural*. Rody was convinced this was the way forward, and he could almost hear future-Rody thanking himself for being such a genius.

Step two: **”Accidental” Meet-Cute**. You know, like the ones in movies where someone bumps into someone else and spills their books everywhere, and they both bend down to pick them up, and boom! Eye contact. Rody’s eyes practically sparkled at the thought of orchestrating something like that.

Step three: **Love Blossoms**, and Rody doesn’t have to choose. It’s a *perfect* plan, no downside.

The bell rang, snapping Rody out of his matchmaking daydream. He packed up his things and bolted out of class, ready to put phase one into action.

—

By the next day when lunch rolled around, Rody was buzzing with excitement. He spotted Manon first, sitting with her usual crowd of cheerleaders, her brown hair shining under the cafeteria lights. She looked like something out of a movie—cool, confident, and way out of his league. But that was okay. He had a plan.

Rody walked up to the table with a grin that was definitely too big for someone who was supposed to be *casual*.

“Hey, Manon,” he said, trying to lean casually against the table but nearly knocking over someone’s water bottle. He awkwardly straightened up, ignoring the cheerleaders’ confused stares.

Manon looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Uh, hey… Rody, right?”

“Yeah! Rody.” He nodded, a little too enthusiastically. “So, listen. You know Vincent, right? Quiet guy, kinda mysterious, always reading…”

Manon’s brow furrowed. “Vincent? Charbonneau? The guy no one talks to?”

“Yep! That’s him!” Rody clapped his hands together, excited. “What do you think of him?”

Manon blinked, clearly trying to process why on earth she was being asked this. “I… don’t really think of him at all?”

Rody waved that off. “No, no, but what if you *did*? Like, imagine you two hanging out. He’s actually really cool when you get to know him.”

She stared at him for a moment, then burst into laughter. “Rody, are you trying to set me up with him?”

“What? No! I mean, kind of? Maybe? Look, just think about it! He’s smart, he’s got that whole mysterious vibe going on. He reads books, like *really big* books, and that’s hot, right?”

Manon just shook her head, still laughing. “You’re weird, Rody.”

Rody shrugged, undeterred. “Yeah, but it could be a thing, you know? Just… meet him. Say hi. Maybe you’ll hit it off!”

Manon rolled her eyes, clearly not taking this seriously. “Fine, I’ll say hi if I see him.”

“Great! You won’t regret it!” Rody beamed, feeling like he’d just nailed the first phase of his plan. She didn’t seem *that* against the idea, right? He was totally making progress.

—

Step two came quicker than Rody expected. The next day, he spotted Vincent sitting under a tree with his usual book, while Manon and her friends were walking across the courtyard. *Perfect*. This was his chance.

Rody’s heart pounded as he put the plan in motion. He rushed over to Vincent, standing awkwardly in front of him. “Hey, Vincent. Uh, so. Quick question.”

Vincent barely looked up. “What is it this time?”

“How would you feel about, uh, maybe talking to someone new? You know, like… socially.”

Vincent’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, funny you should ask!” Rody grinned nervously. “You see, Manon is literally *right there* and, well, she’s never really *met* you. So I thought—”

At that exact moment, Rody’s plan went terribly wrong. As if the universe itself was in on the joke, Manon walked past and, without warning, her bag got caught on a tree branch, spilling her books everywhere.

Rody froze. *This was it!*

Vincent, however, looked completely uninterested.

“Shouldn’t you help her?” Vincent asked dryly, barely glancing up from his book.

Rody, realizing he needed to act fast, scrambled forward and dramatically swooped down to pick up her books. He bumped into her in the process, sending one book flying straight into Vincent’s lap.

“Oops!” Rody said, chuckling awkwardly. “Look at that! You two are already sharing books!”

Manon stared at him like he’d lost his mind. Vincent, too, looked completely unimpressed.

“Thanks, Rody,” Manon said, taking her books back and not even looking at Vincent.

“Yeah,” Vincent added, deadpan. “Real smooth.”

Rody could only watch as Manon walked away, clearly not charmed by the “meet-cute” he had engineered. Vincent, meanwhile, stood up, tucking his book under his arm.

“Rody,” he said, staring at him with a look of mild concern, “what exactly are you trying to do?”

Rody rubbed the back of his neck, trying to salvage his pride. “I was just, uh… trying to… you know, get you to talk to people more. Like, you’re cool! And I thought maybe Manon might think so too?”

Vincent blinked slowly, then sighed. “Rody. I’m *gay*.”

Rody’s brain short-circuited.

“Wait, what?”

“I’m gay, Rody. I’m not interested in Manon. Or any girl, for that matter.”

It took Rody a solid ten seconds to process that information. His grand plan crumbled before his very eyes.

“Oh.” He blinked. “I… didn’t know that.”

Vincent gave him a flat look. “Well, now you do.”

Rody stood there, stunned, watching as Vincent walked away, completely calm and composed as always.

For the first time in days, Rody was utterly speechless.

—

Later that night, Rody collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything in his head.

“So… Vincent’s gay,” he muttered, still trying to wrap his head around it. “That… changes everything.”

He thought about it for a moment, then frowned.

“…Wait. Doesn’t that mean I have a chance with him?”

And just like that, the confusion returned, tenfold.