Day 4

shadylane I certainly hope you’re doing better than our Silver Creek heroes, because that bunch just seems to be racing for the gutter. Have you noticed it too? Jill Clarke has made that pretty obvious, considering she’s given up on every single one of them. She went on a blocking spree yesterday, no explanations given. The only one who’s escaped her wrath was her roommate, Tiffany Woods. I don’t know if we’ll ever find out why, but we can hope that one day she’ll break her sabbatical and tell us. She knows something we don’t. I wonder how the others feel about that.

Case number two is Kyller. While she has been sitting with the girls, she’s walked out at least twice without coming back, which must stem from an argument with them. Are they no longer accommodating her? I think we’re all aware of her fragility. It might be the case, then, that these girls have simply given up on their more outlandish counterparts, so Kyller and Clarke have decided to look for new friends. They might’ve only stuck around in high school out of necessity, because there were no other options to choose from. Are we looking at two net losses here? I suppose Noah Byrd counts as a gain, so there’s only one real loss. The clique is slowly shrinking. Will we see it die for good? The excitement grows.

Talking about Byrd, he dressed a little better yesterday. Should I take credit for that? Sorry if I made him feel self-conscious, but it was clearly for the best! He finally ditched his large collection of hoodies and wore something else for a change. I liked the beanie; I think it really suits him. You can tell, just by looking at him, that he’s an introvert who really likes music. We all know someone like that and we love them anyway. Lee’s restraint is surprising; I thought she would’ve given him a makeover by now. It did take Jackson at least a few months to start dressing well, though, so let’s cut Byrd some slack.

Since there hasn’t been another incident between him and Woods, I’m assuming things have settled down. You guys have so many theories about these two that I’m starting to worry you might be right. First, let’s talk whack: all the theories that Byrd has hit on Lee and upset the clique. If he’d really done that, Woods wouldn’t be the one with a problem. Now, I know what you’re about to say—but Beech, isn’t Jackson the brains and Woods the brawn? Jackson would simply get Woods to do his dirty work. To which I’ll say, no, you silly goose! While it’s true that Woods loves getting his hands dirty, Jackson is not a saint; he has absolutely joined in before. Have you already forgotten the fight with Slate? You people have such short memory spans.

On the other end of that spectrum, we have theories coming in that Byrd has done something to warrant Woods’ rage, perhaps where his sexuality is concerned. If Byrd had the balls to hit on him, then retaliation would be the expected response. It would also explain Woods’ post about it, that he was justified in what he did. I’m not saying I’d do the same or that anyone even should; I’m just trying to understand what happened. Woods does have a lot of admirers, after all; it wouldn’t be hard to believe a boy would finally come forward—and that Woods wouldn’t like it.

Information on whether Byrd and Jackson really are friends is confusing and scarce. Lee says that they are, while Jackson doesn’t seem to think so. If she’s telling the truth, then Jackson must be lying to keep appearances, probably because his bestie wouldn’t like hearing about that very much. He’s already taken Byrd into the restroom, I mean, do we need to give him more reasons to up the ante? If Jackson really isn’t friends with Byrd and never has been, then that totally explains why he didn’t stop Woods from doing what he did. That, to me, seems to fit everything a little better. I just find it cruel to imagine someone’s friend would stand by while something like that happened. I see a pattern here, where Woods does whatever he wants and no one stands up to each other. I guess they just hope they aren’t next.

Since we’re on the topic, let’s talk Slate. Have you seen this really handsome guy he hangs out with? Tall, brown hair, a full beard. Are they dating? They would make a really nice couple. The girls in my audience will understand what I mean. The only reason I’m not completely sold on this is because they’re not always together. Slate’s nocturnal habits put him in many more parties than his friend can go to, so I understand some time apart, but they weren’t together last weekend either. Who is this mysterious man? A new investigation begins.

All in all, this is a pretty strange bunch, don’t you think? They used to be so close in Silver Creek, but now we have new names coming in and old names going out the door. Lee seems to be taking this as an opportunity to recruit. Clemens must’ve been a reject, but there are others in the works, girls from previous classes that she’s been talking to. I can only assume she’s looking to replace the friends she’s lost. That’s not really how it works, though. Then again, Lee always gets what she wants, so maybe potential friends really do need to be interviewed first. Is this how Byrd got in? If you’re looking to make friends, this might be the way. Good luck!

Yours truly,

European Beech

Stacy

A big smile pushed onto Noah’s cheeks, even rounder now, blue eyes bright against the reddish tone of his skin. He was really adorable, a perfect teddy bear. While his pedestrian style differed from the rest of the group, his looks should make up for it. She really didn’t understand why Beech saw him as such an outcast when all that was missing was this year’s designer collection. Tiffany couldn’t afford it either, but she knew how to look expensive, so she passed just fine. That might be what Noah lacked, the finesse to pick out a wardrobe that seemed far more unattainable than it really was. She absolutely didn’t mind it, though; his energy was so captivating that she wouldn’t give him up for the world. A big hug lifted her off the floor, an incredible feat for someone so small.

“Do you care about Slate’s relationship status at all?” he asked her, hand naturally finding hers. She held it as they walked to class.

“Not as much as Beech seems to. She’s like, obsessed with him. I haven’t spoken to him at all since the party.”

“I can only catch him sometimes, either when I’m waking up or going to bed, which is when he’s usually about to do the opposite. Anyway, the guy Beech was talking about is Hunter, another one of our roommates, and he’s just Slate’s friend. They’re not together at all.”

“Is he as handsome as she claims?”

“Uh, yeah, if you’re into tall guys with muscles. He’s really nice too.”

“Sounds like the perfect guy. Are you two…?” Her eyebrows bounced, making him laugh.

“No, idiot. I’m not interested in every guy I know, the same way you’re not interested in every guy you know. You’re not dying to sleep with Josh, are you?”

“Oh god.” She rolled her eyes. “I only asked because he sounds charming and you’re single, so.”

“He has this babysitter complex that I just don’t vibe with. Like, it’d be fine if we were dating and he was doing all that stuff for me, but he’s really invested in doing that for somebody else right now, which is just a big turn-off for me. I don’t like competing with others. If someone cares about me, I feel like I shouldn’t be having a hard time getting their attention.”

“What if you really liked him? Wouldn’t you fight for him just a little?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. If he likes me too, I wouldn’t have to fight for him at all; he’d just come to me. Besides, I just don’t… want to fight anybody. What if I do all that and it turns out he was never that into me to begin with? I’d feel like a dumbass.”

“Hm, that’s an interesting way of looking at it…” Since she’d never had to fight for anyone, she hadn’t really had any reason to think about that. All her dating advice had come from Abby, who probably wasn’t a good coach, considering she’d only ever had one boyfriend, much like Stacy herself. The only difference was that Abby had been the one to ask Ethan, rather than the other way around. “Do you do that with friends too? If I stop talking to you all of a sudden, are we just done?”

“Of course not; I’ll keep talking to you until it’s pretty obvious you don’t wanna talk to me anymore, kind of like what Jill’s doing right now. If you did that to me, I’d get a clue, but I’d still ask you what I did wrong. I’d want to know. It’s different because we already know each other.”

“Is that why you don’t really talk to Toby? Even before the restroom thing, you already didn’t talk to him. He never made an effort and neither did you.”

“Yeah, I just don’t think he wants to be my friend and I’m okay not being his friend either. I think you’re way cooler than him anyway. Plus, that saves me from further trouble with his friend.”

“Toby said he’s still bullying you.”

“Oh, it’s really not so bad, just regular inconveniences, like taking my stuff and making fun of me. Which reminds me, I have to sit in front of him today, so he’ll stop doing that.”

“Why don’t you just change math classes? Come to mine; I won’t bully you.”

He smiled. Black hair poked out from under his beanie, face turned just enough for a glance. “It’s fine, Stace; it’s really not that bad. Don’t worry about it.”

“I just don’t like that he’s doing this to you. It feels like he’s bullying and manipulating the whole world and no one’s doing anything about it. Am I just crazy?”

“I think you’re overreacting a bit. Seriously, everything’s fine.” The hold on her hand grew firmer.

How frustrating it was that no one cared to stop Josh Woods. They kept giving him pass after pass despite his horrific past actions and very obvious horrific future intentions. Surely, Noah knew that if he let Josh push him around indefinitely, another round of the restroom incident would take place, this time with scars left behind; he was just too nice to speak up. She might have to do it for him. Toby, however, was a different case altogether, perhaps too far gone for any rehabilitation. He was simply unable to see Josh as anything other than his best friend, despite the very clear fact Josh didn’t care for him at all. He liked Toby’s loyalty and presence, not who he really was. Josh was a charlatan, yet no one in his inner circle could see it. That was no coincidence.

Noah

If someone didn’t make it to lunch, it usually meant they hadn’t come to class in the first place. That was why, in the beginning, Jill’s absences were so suspicious; no one knew she’d been going to class this entire time, only by herself. Now, Kyller seemed to be following in her footsteps, absent at lunch, even though she definitely was on campus; her roommates could attest to it. No one knew where she was though, heads turning back and forth, eyes scanning the crowd. She was hard to miss, a big girl in black clothes, yet no one could find her. Like Beech had said, the group really was shrinking. Noah couldn’t imagine how the girls must be feeling right now.

“Oh, whatever.” Tiffany scoffed. “This bitch-fit will be over soon enough; she just needs to cool off.”

Okay, so that was how Tiffany felt. Noah couldn’t say he was very surprised to see it. “I take it you haven’t spoken to her, then.”

“Why would I? She yelled at me! If she wants to mend this, she’ll have to come to me and apologize.”

“Can you be just a little more sensitive, please?” Abby rolled her eyes. “If you keep saying shit like that, she’ll never come back.”

One single admonishment from Abby was enough to completely change Tiffany’s attitude about this. Her eyebrows shot up her forehead with surprise, cheeks catching color. “Sorry, I just… feel like the bad guy here. I wasn’t ignoring her, you know; I just didn’t wanna talk about that anymore. We still texted afterwards, but I changed the subject. I didn’t realize she was taking it to heart the whole time. She should’ve said something earlier, not accuse me of being a terrible friend in front of everyone.”

“It sounds like miscommunication to me,” Ashley commented. “Isn’t she your best friend? Why—”

“I don’t have a best friend,” Tiffany interrupted. “You’re all equally my friends.”

“Jesus, Ashley.” The vexation on Abby’s face only missed two fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. “They didn’t talk at all over summer break. You know that. Everybody knows that. Can we all stop pretending we don’t know what’s going on? Every time Tiff pulls away, Kyller’s separation anxiety flares up and she becomes unbearable for like, a week. She’ll calm down. She always has.”

Oh, Noah had no idea about that. “That sounds… pretty serious,” he commented.

“Yeah, it is, but she still needs to understand boundaries. If Tiff wants space, she has to give it. End of.”

“I obviously still care about her,” Tiffany quipped in. “She’s just such a bummer sometimes. If we’re watching a horror movie, all she talks about is how the black guy always dies first or how the final girl is always a virgin, because purity is celebrated and blah, blah, blah. It’s so annoying. Like, I know those things are bad and that society isn’t perfect, but can’t I just enjoy a stupid movie?”

“Well, social issues are obviously important to her and she wants to talk about them,” Noah added.

“That’s fine, but I don’t wanna talk about it. I don’t even wanna think about it; it’s too upsetting. I wanna have a good time, not constantly remember how worthless I am to some people. They don’t matter to me. All that does is make me feel bad.”

“She probably feels the same way, but maybe talking about it helps, because you all agree that those things are stupid. It might feel vindicating to say the patriarchy sucks or whatever.”

“How would you like to talk about hate crimes every time we hung out? Bet you’d feel like shit too.”

“Yeah, I would; I’m just saying there could be a balance. Instead of interpreting Kyller’s comments like personal attacks, maybe consider them more like evidence of a wider societal issue. Remember when she accused you of calling Clemens fat? We could’ve taken a different turn on that conversation and talked about why it is that being fat is seen as such a negative thing anyway. It didn’t have to mean she was calling you fatphobic.”

“Except she was and we all know why being fat is bad. I just don’t want to be constantly reminded that I’m only valuable as long as I’m skinny and hot, because that’s all women are good for. It makes me feel like shit! If she likes talking about that, then she can find someone else to talk to!”

“That’s what makes it so hard spending time with her,” Abby explained. “If she didn’t always talk about the most upsetting stuff ever, we might want to spend more time together and her anxiety would be fine, but she makes it so punishing.”

“Then I’ll talk to her about that.” Ashley shrugged. “I don’t mind. We can’t always feel happy about everything all the time and that’s fine. If venting about these things makes her feel vindicated, like Noah said, then I’ll do it. I’ll help her.”

“You know she’s just gonna latch onto you, right?” Tiffany added. “You basically won’t be able to do anything without her by your side.”

“That’s fine. I’ve been feeling pretty lonely anyway, so.”

Both Abby and Tiffany gave each other very pointed looks. They clearly communicated something, but Noah wasn’t able to decode the message. His best guess was that they didn’t think this was a good idea.

“Alright, then.” Tiffany’s eyebrows bounced. “I guess that solves it, doesn’t it?” Curiously, that question seemed to be addressed to Noah, blue eyes staring straight at him. It might be because he was the only one sitting directly across from her, but either way, he decided to answer it.

“I hope so.” He shrugged. “Let’s see how Kyller feels about it.”

“Were you just playing the devil’s advocate or do you feel similarly to her?” Abby asked. “Would you like to talk about gay rights sometimes?”

“Oh god, no; I was just trying to find viable explanations for her behavior. I don’t actually know what she thinks about stuff or anything. I might be totally wrong about it.”

“You do that a lot, you know,” Tiffany remarked. “I like it; it makes me think. I know I sound angry a lot, but that’s just because I get very passionate about things.”

“Ninety percent of everything I say is pure speculation; I don’t actually know anything about anything. I just think the thought exercise is fun.”

“I think so too.” She grinned. Her teeth were perfectly straight, lips stretched all the way across her face, eye-catching in a very raw and unfiltered way. He kind of liked it. She was definitely the most sincere of all the girls, unafraid to dig deep and bare her true self. It might be why she was so easy to criticize, a target in plain sight.

Stacy

The only problem she had with Toby was just how often, and how quickly, he turned things sexual. Last night had been no exception; he’d stared at her cleavage the entire time, and the moment they’d left the restaurant, he’d started feeling her up. It’d be lying to say she always minded it, because his interest was not only flattering, but reassuring too; he clearly wanted to be with her. Sometimes, though, she wished he’d look past all the distractions and see her for who she really was, his sweetheart and friend, not just a pretty girl. Their most honest conversations were only possible during the afterglow, when his eyes no longer wandered and his mind was at ease. She had a feeling that, if they weren’t dating, he wouldn’t care to listen to a single word she had to say. Unconditional interest like that was only reserved for his male peers. Josh, mostly.

That wasn’t a deal-breaker in the slightest; it was just a bit frustrating to have to deal with. There probably weren’t any straight men out there who cared about what she had to say anyway, so there really wasn’t a way out of this; she just had to learn some patience. Toby was a good teacher. Another point in his favor was just how sweet he could be, letting her hold his hand across the cafeteria and steal him away for lunch. A brief glance over the shoulder let her know that Josh had been watching. There was no outward emotion on his face, but the fact his eyes followed the couple all the way without protest or any movement whatsoever gave her the impression his entire being had been sucked into this, the sheer amount of attention he gave it. They sat four or so tables away, Toby with his back to his friends and Stacy staring over his shoulder, right back at Josh.

Conversation flowed as it always did, topics that came and went as she skirted around the one that should not be mentioned. Every once in a while, she glanced at him, just to make sure he was still watching. Toby asked her about her friends and her classes, what had been going on with her, how her parents had been doing. It really wasn’t fair to say he didn’t care about her, because he did; his true and honest feelings were just overshadowed sometimes. It might be the way he spoke, how quickly he changed topics, as if easily bored of them. Then again, it might be just the opposite, that he didn’t want to trap her in a conversation she didn’t want to be in for long. She’d probably never know.

Josh’s unwavering attention was proof that Abby had been right and that Toby was his only weakness. His possessiveness over him had puzzled her at first, why he should care where Toby was or what he was doing, but she quickly realized it was his control over Toby that really mattered, how strongly he was able to influence him. This particular battle was a lost cause; Stacy didn’t actually think she’d ever open Toby’s eyes to what his supposed friend was doing, but she’d also given up fighting a long time ago. This right here was about little inconveniences, reminders that Josh had to share. He obviously didn’t want to.

“Have you apologized to Slate yet?” she asked, eyes trained on Josh’s face.

“I—apologized? Oh, right, yeah; that’s right. Yes, we—we spoke on Monday, uh, after class. Yeah, it’s cool. He’s fine. Why? Have you—I mean, have you spoken at all? What did he say?”

Her eyes found Toby next, squinting with suspicion. “Why are you so weird about him?”

“I’m not being weird; I just, well—I just don’t know how any of this is relevant. Nothing happened, and anyway, it’s fine. It’s no big deal. I’m just, I guess, confused why you’d ask me that, like I wouldn’t do what you asked me to do. Of course I did it. Did he say I didn’t?”

“I was just making sure you didn’t forget. Slate hasn’t said anything, because we haven’t spoken since the party.”

“Oh, okay. I thought—I thought he was already like, lying about me.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Well, that’s, you know, kind of what he does. He was lying about what happened; why wouldn’t he lie about me too? But then, I don’t think you’d believe him, so I shouldn’t be worried.”

“I don’t think he lied about getting pushed around and being called names.”

“No, but he said it was my fault, and that’s just not true. You can ask Josh; he was there. He saw it happen. I didn’t do anything.”

“Josh’s word is worthless to me. Either way, it doesn’t sound like any of this is settled; you still have some differences to sort out. Try and do it tomorrow, will you?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious. Talk to him.”

“Yes, I know. Will do.”

That was always how their arguments ended, her giving him advice, and him saying he’d take it. He never followed up on it though, so she never knew whether he’d actually complied. She assumed so, otherwise that would easily make him the biggest liar she’d ever met. She could never tell when he was lying. Uncomfortable topics were easy to spot; he stuttered and talked in circles until the topic either died or changed to something else, but she couldn’t find any telltale signs for when he lied. He’d done it absolutely straight-faced before; she’d found him out through other means. It just didn’t happen very often, and when it did, it was usually about Josh, something Toby didn’t want her to know. Not surprising, considering they were a two-man mafia.

Once lunch was over, she decided to walk him back to his friends. Their hands met behind her back as they traversed the narrow aisles between tables, Toby towing along. He never complained about this kind of thing, letting her take the initiative whenever she felt like it. His friends watched them come over, getting up at their approach. Before they could even think of leaving, however, a hand found Josh’s arm, black eyes up at his face.

“Can you do me a favor?” she asked, staring at unwavering stoicism. “Can you please stop bullying Noah? I don’t want to see him hurt.”

“I’m not hurting him.”

“Yes, you are.”

Josh held the stare. His jaw poked out when he gritted his teeth, somehow sharper than before. That was something she used to like about him, that she thought made him handsome.

“Is he chill?” Christian asked. “We haven’t talked, but he seems chill.”

“Yes.” Breaking the stare, she turned to look at him next. “He is very chill. I think you’d like him.”

“Cool.”

“We should get going,” Toby interrupted, taking his friend by the arm. It prompted Stacy to let go of him.

“He’s not really who you think he is,” Josh commented. Inertia was broken as Toby pulled him along, feet taking him away.

“What do you mean?”

“Ask him yourself.”

“He’s just messing around,” Toby cut in. “We’ll see you later, Stace.”

Without another word, Josh turned, letting his friend take him away. She watched them leave for a moment, how they bumped into each other, clearly arguing over the last five minutes. What did Josh know? Toby shoved him on the arm only to get shoved in return, a hushed yet very visible disagreement growing between them. Given everything she knew about Noah, this was probably just another one of Josh’s attempts to throw her off. She honestly didn’t think he had anything on Noah at all.

Noah

The football team’s departure was his cue to leave as well. He got up from the table, hastily explaining how important it was that he got to class early and grabbed the seat directly in front of Jack—or Josh Woods. Tiffany, however, decided that now was the perfect time to tell him of this plan she’d come up with, so she could get a chance to speak with Chris. Since he absolutely couldn’t afford to be late, Noah tried to reason with her on his way out. She simply followed him, going over her plan anyway. After class, she’d come over to his building and stop her brother with an excuse, for example, that she needed money to go shopping later. Ideally, that would also stop Chris. Toby was easy to distract; she’d tell him Stacy wanted to talk and send him on his way. Now, her brother was in Noah’s hands; he was responsible for a distraction that would pull Josh aside and leave her alone with Chris.

By the time she was done explaining everything, they’d already reached classroom 104. It was nerve-racking to think he’d have to approach Jack in public and somehow pull him aside to talk. There was nothing stopping Jack from decking him right in the face. He clutched a notebook to his chest, backpack hanging from a shoulder. They stood just out of the way, by the entrance. His eyes kept watch, focused on the crowd that filled the hallway, just waiting to see the one face that would push him straight into the classroom.

“I don’t think I’m your best bet here,” he explained. “Your brother hates me. If I ask him for a word, he’ll just take me to the restroom again. Can’t Abby do it?”

“No, she’s on Ethan’s side, so he’ll never listen to her. It has to be you; there’s history between you. Tell him you wanna talk about what happened. If you say it in front of me, he won’t hurt you. Stay within view and you’ll be fine.”

“What would compel him to agree instead of punching me in the face?”

“Me. He doesn’t do that stuff in front of me, because he knows I don’t like it. I promise you you’ll be fine; I’m your shield.” She squeezed his arm. Dread crept up his chest, cold as ice. “Do we have a deal?”

The moment she said that, Jack and the others popped into the hallway. Wrapped up in conversation, they didn’t notice him. Noah nodded, really hoping she was right about this. There was very little room left for mistakes now, too close to Friday night, when he and Jack usually met up. Whether they were still going to or not was a mystery; Jack had sent a myriad of mixed signals last time they spoke. The deal, as he remembered it, was that Jack would only see him if he dropped Johnson’s class, but then, he’d also said they wouldn’t stop seeing each other anyway, which completely negated the first conditional. The only reason Noah had laid low this whole time was so Jack would feel comfortable enough to see him tomorrow regardless of what they’d actually agreed upon. Tiffany’s plan could undo everything. With his heart in his mouth, he hugged Tiffany goodbye and entered the classroom. He just had to take her word for it.

The whole reason he’d arrived before Jack and his friends was to force Jack into the seat behind him. His thought process was that, if they kept sitting near him despite the restroom incident, then he could manipulate their seating arrangements by leaving only one empty desk in his row and two in the next one over. The three were none the wiser. When they came over, they took the three seats he’d left untouched, with Jack directly behind him.

Champagne bubbles sharpened the air as Jack walked past, throat closing against a sea of memories—he couldn’t think of that right now. Hunched over his own desk, Noah let his eyes close. Would tomorrow be any different than all the other times before? They’d never spent an entire week in each other’s presence, much less communicated in that meanwhile. Would they talk at all? There was so much he wanted to say. The chair behind him scraped the floor, so he pictured Jack sitting on it, sunlight in his hair and the ocean in his eyes. Oh god, he missed him so much.

The only downside this sitting arrangement brought him was the inability to see Jack and anything he might do. So, Noah decided to sit sideways, with his back against the wall and a foot up on the chair. What was supposed to be a furtive glance in Jack’s direction promptly turned into an open stare as blue eyes looked right back at him, stoic and quiet. The unsaid hung in the air between them, Jack’s attention like breath in his lungs. There was resignation in the way he just sat there, without touching Noah’s things or trying to pester him in any way. He simply studied Noah’s face like it was made of marble, an art student at the Louvre. Noah’s throat closed, heart aching in his chest—could he say anything at all? I miss you so bad I’d fight the sun for you. Jack must’ve had the exact same thought, because a swift movement pulled his phone out, thumbs tapping onto the screen. A moment later, the text came through.

A single question was enough to send him flying twenty feet into the air.

Blue eyes glanced back up at him. As usual, Jack’s hair was styled up in perfect strokes, a tidal wave jumping into the air only to crash along the back of his skull, sides trimmed short. The tan of his skin glowed gold under the sun, jersey bright white and soft blue. There was something else there though, unspoken words in the silence, a lump in his throat. He was far too quiet.

The smallest hint of a smile tugged onto the corners of Jack’s lips.

The smile that widened Noah’s lips forced him to turn around and face the front of the room.

Just as he read that, another text came in, Toby’s name at the top of the screen. He tapped on it, taken back to their private messages.

Why did he care about that? Was he really so worried that European Beech could be lying about his girlfriend? If Noah were in his place, he’d simply ask her. Both Toby and Jack had this weird distrust of people they were supposed to trust blindly. Considering they were both lying to each other and had been since Noah had met them, however, he couldn’t blame them. Projected insecurities and whatnot.

As soon as class was dismissed, Noah remembered Tiffany’s plan. The three friends left first. After taking some time putting his things away, Noah followed the crowd outside, where Tiffany spoke with her brother and Chris. Toby was nowhere to be seen, already on his way to uncover another lie, that Stacy hadn’t called him over at all. So, it was Noah’s turn. He swallowed around a lump, feet inching in Tiffany’s direction. When she saw him, she took his arm and pulled him over.

“Uh.” Another swallow, more uncomfortable this time. Heat burned through the skin on his neck, shooting straight for his face. Nothing was made better when Jack found his eyes, eyebrows furrowing with skepticism. Sweat budded on his forehead—what to call him? He had to think fast. “Woods, can I… talk to you? Like, over there?” A hand pointed at nowhere in particular, only away from here.

Woods’ scowl deepened. “Why?”

“That would be a good opportunity for you to apologize,” Tiffany jumped in, comically elbowing her brother on the side. “You really should.”

Woods squinted. There clearly was something at play here; his sister wasn’t being very subtle. His lips parted, but instead of saying anything, he decided to agree with Noah’s suggestion and walk away together. They moved only a few feet down the hallway, just out of earshot of the other two. Once they stopped, Woods decided to face them, forcing Noah to keep his back to them.

“Okay, this was not my idea,” Noah prefaced. “She came up with this plan so she could talk to Chris alone. I don’t know why she didn’t just tell you that; it would’ve made things so much easier.”

“She’s into him?”

“Yeah, she—” Suddenly, he realized his mistake. “I’m sorry, are you like, not cool with that? Is it a problem?”

Woods hesitated, lips parted. His eyes had been trained on the couple this entire time, focused over Noah’s shoulder. “No, it’s…” A very small movement shook his head, practically invisible to the eye. “It’s… fine.”

“Yeah, no, it’s not. Why isn’t it fine?”

“No, it is fine. It’s fine.” Breath filled Woods’ lungs, pushing his shoulders back, spine straightening up. His eyes were no longer on the couple, off in the distance now, somewhere other than Noah’s face.

“What’s going on?” Noah asked.

“Nothing.”

Goddamn this guy.

“So you pulled me aside just so she could ask him out,” Woods remarked.

“Yeah.”

“You have nothing to tell me.”

“Well, I mean…” Both shoulders raised into a shrug that never fell. Noah furtively scanned the area around them, the swindling crowd that steadily left the building. No one was paying attention to them, distracted by conversations and their own phone screens. “There’s a lot I wanna say to you; I just… don’t think you’d like to hear it.”

“Here, you mean?”

“Yeah, but also in general, I think.”

“Is it about tomorrow?”

“No, it’s… you know.”

A blond eyebrow raised, indicating that Woods didn’t, in fact, know. Noah shook his head.

“It’s nothing. I guess… I’m excited about tomorrow.” His heart jumped as he said that, color rising to his face. “I’m—I… miss you.” He had to turn away at that part, eyes off at the remaining students scattered about.

Quiet footsteps trailed out, muffled laughter in the distance. There was nothing Woods could really say here, and either way, Noah didn’t expect a response; it was more a message to be delivered and kept, a point to be made.

“I lied when I said I didn’t like you,” Woods confessed. His tone was small, the softest Noah had ever heard it.

“Well, I lied when I said I hated your guts, so we’re even.”

A brief smile broke out, snuffed out the moment it happened, blue eyes quickly glancing over Noah’s shoulder, surely in Chris’ direction. Woods straightened. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry about the restroom thing. I’m sorry it had to be that way. I didn’t want to do it.”

“But you’re not sorry you did it.”

“And I’d do it again. It worked, didn’t it?”

A slow nod bobbed Noah’s head, jaw setting. “I lied. I think I hate you a little bit.”

This time, the smile that widened Woods’ lips was insincere and humorless, the reason he didn’t care to hide it. “That’s fair.”

“Would you ever… actually… hurt me?”

Woods’ gaze dropped, introspective. There was something else there, though. Remorse, maybe; it was difficult to tell. “I already have. Bet there’s a bruise on your arm.”

So he remembered that.

“Why are you still going along with this?” There was genuine confusion in Woods’ tone. His eyes lifted once again, no longer lost in his own thoughts. “It’s a dead-end. You could be with literally anyone else; someone who won’t keep you a secret and hurt you the whole time. There’s nothing for you here. I’m a bad pick.”

Noah should probably not say he kind of enjoyed the danger. There were other, better explanations for his insistence. “I don’t think you are,” Noah said. “I think you’re worth it. You’re obviously not the guy I met two weeks ago and I’m invested now. I wanna get to know you—the real you.”

“You never will.”

Noah smiled, cheeky, too cocky; Woods immediately distrusted it, eyes slitting with suspicion. That only served to widen the smile, though. “You already know you’re wrong.”

His feet took a couple of steps back, and without another word, Noah turned and walked back to Tiffany. This must’ve been enough time. How long would she need, anyway? His approach marked the end of her conversation with Chris, lips stretched into that wide grin of hers—she must’ve done it. An arm linked with his, and bidding Chris a see you later, she pulled Noah down the hall.

“I have a date tomorrow,” she sing-songed.

So did he.

Stacy

She fixed her bra strap over a shoulder, hair swept clean off her back. The afternoon sun brought a warm glow to Toby’s skin, glistening with sweat. His hands wrestled with his shirt, turning it upside-down as he tried to figure out which was the right way to put it on. The chocolate brown of his hair shone bright in the sun, like honey imbued in gold. He was very handsome, masculine without too many sharp corners, full lips and a delicate nose. His eyes were easily the nicest part about him, a warm caramel that was infinitely lighter than hers; calling them both brown would simply be inaccurate, a complete disservice to their intricacies. He was closer to the earth, while she was closer to the night sky.

Lost in the sight before her, she completely forgot to finish getting dressed. She had no idea why he’d come looking for her after class, but kind of fell in love with the idea anyway, so romantic. Her legs crossed over each other, swinging under the desk.

“I don’t know that I was of any help,” Toby confessed. His shoulders bounced as a hand fixed the shirt over his chest, a little too tight. “I’m not good at reading people.”

“Well, it was nice to have you there anyway. You definitely put some pressure on those girls.”

“How? I barely talked to them.”

“Your presence, Tobe; it’s off-putting to some people. They probably don’t see what I see when they look at you.”

His lips hinted at a smile. “What do you see?” His voice was softer now, playful. She already knew what he wanted to hear, always so starved for compliments.

“I see a tall, strong cornerback that looks just a little bit like a superstar, a little bit out of everyone’s league, but with a heart of gold so big that even I fit in it.”

“Yeah? What else?” A hand took the strap she’d just fixed and slipped it off her shoulder again. His eyes were no longer on her face.

“Hm, I guess I also see an insatiable hunger just impossible to satisfy.” Slapping his hand away, she fixed the strap back in its place and slipped her shirt on.

“Can you blame me? I mean, look at you, Stace—that’s what I’m working with.”

“Get used to it.” She hopped off the desk. “I’m not sure any of those girls are Beech, but I’m also not sure that they aren’t. I don’t know what I’m looking for. No one’s been suspicious so far.”

“You still have a few more to interview, don’t you? You probably just haven’t come across her yet.”

The chain on her purse rattled, placed once again across her chest. A hand swept her hair off her shoulder, letting it fall along her back. “I hope you’re right,” she mumbled. Her hand found his, eyes down at where they met. “Walk me to the mall?”

“Yeah, sure.” He pulled the door open for her.

“Can I ask you something?” She continued before he could reply, turning around to glance at him. “Why don’t you like Noah?”

“What?” His lips pursed with bewilderment, eyebrows furrowing. “Of course I like him.”

“Oh, really? Then why have you made exactly zero effort to get to know him? You didn’t even stop Josh from taking him to the restroom. You hate him.”

“No, I don’t.” He rolled his eyes. “That’s so dramatic. I think he’s fine. I just… don’t think we have anything in common. He’s not into football and he doesn’t go to the gym, I mean.” His shoulders bounced into a shrug. “What are we gonna talk about?”

“Those are the requirements to being your friend?”

“A little bit, yeah. Also, he doesn’t get along with Josh, so it was never gonna work out, anyway.”

“You should’ve stopped him, you know. The restroom was a step too far. Way too far.”

“It wasn’t my call.”

“Yes, it was! It was anybody’s call!”

“Stace, jeez, can we talk about something else? We don’t always need to talk about him. There are other people in the world.”

“They’re not as important! I just feel like we’re standing by while Josh traumatizes someone I really care about!”

“You’re blowing this way out of proportion. Here’s what Josh did: he took Noah to the restroom, told him to stay away from me, and left. The location was just a scare tactic. Nothing actually happened.”

Her lungs drew in a deep breath. “I feel like I’m going crazy sometimes,” she confessed. “No one seems to see Josh the way I do.”

“That says more about you than him. He’s not as bad as you make him out to be.”

Yeah, right. All he did was hurt people, but they’d never see eye to eye on that. Toby didn’t know the guy she’d met on the first day of class, who’d let her down so massively that the only logical conclusion was to think he’d never cared about her in the first place. He was very good at appearances, empty on the inside. If it didn’t still hurt, she’d let this go. Why had she felt the absolute need to fall for someone who didn’t exist? It could’ve been anyone else.

Noah

Something about Tiffany was just intoxicating. Her energy, while always high, just skyrocketed sometimes. She practically bounced on her feet, grin big and wide, speaking about her date with Chris tomorrow. Noah had never had so many female friends before and was fully convinced that girls were at their cutest when they were happy like this, prancing around the mall because some guy they liked had just asked them out. He couldn’t stop staring at her, the shine in her eyes when she saw a pretty shirt, the delicate movement of her fingers. Nothing about her personality was even remotely similar to Woods’, yet Noah couldn’t stop seeing him in her, in the color of her eyes, the bracelets on her wrist. If they took the time to get to know each other, would he still think this way, or would there be more similarities between them? Was Woods a goofball too? Somehow, he found that hard to believe.

When Stacy arrived, the conversation they’d been engaged in promptly gave way to the girls she’d just interviewed. Her mood was certainly damper than Tiffany’s, unsure of her methods, if she were even getting close to the culprit at all. Still, as she talked, all Noah could really focus on was the dry sweat on her hairline, bangs in absolute disarray. It was… a bit sickening to think of what she’d been up to with Toby this whole time. He knew they were dating and that was fine, but their closeness had never been this advertised before. His heart ached a bit, eyes wandering off. Tiffany, who walked next to him, also seemed a bit underwhelmed by the current topic, clearly far more interested in her plans for tomorrow. Her eyebrows bounced when he glanced at her, lips widening into that iconic smile.

They sneaked away at some point. He saw an opportunity when she walked off to a different part of the store, where the shirts were darker and the pants were looser, leaving the others near big designer names. His feet took him away step by step, so Stacy wouldn’t notice his absence. As soon as she turned to Abby for her opinion on a dress, Noah took his leave.

The delight on Tiffany’s face was indescribable. Her excitement made him feel like a million bucks, heart beating faster. They walked around the store with their arms linked together, shocked at how expensive some of these clothes could be. Two hundred dollars for a plain black dress just because of a tag no one could see? How stupid. It was pretty obvious, however, just how much Tiffany wanted all of this. Were she as well off as the other two, she would absolutely be cleaning up the aisle. In the end, she didn’t even get anything. Woods had only given her twenty dollars, after all. Apparently, it was all he’d had.

“I think I’m gonna give this back to him.” Her voice was quiet, pensive like a thought spoken out loud. She wasn’t even looking at Noah, eyes absently roaming about the store. “I already have enough clothes, anyway. He probably needs it more than I do. You know, he goes without eating sometimes. He always gives me money for lunch, but I know there isn’t enough for the both of us.”

Oh, that was extremely heartbreaking to hear. It’d come so out of left field that Noah wasn’t even sure what to say for a second, eyes glancing in her direction. Her thoughtlessness made him realize that maybe he shouldn’t take this very seriously though, following along like she hadn’t just stabbed him straight in the gut.

“There’s no way a man his size is starving to death,” he reasoned. “Toby’s paying for his lunch, at the very least.”

“Maybe. I mean, I hope so. Dad isn’t—” Suddenly, she cut herself off. Her head turned, finally looking at him. “I’m really sorry about the restroom thing; Josh has a bad temper. He doesn’t know how to deal with stuff.”

“It’s fine. Nothing even happened.”

Blond eyebrows furrowed. “He told me what happened; he’s really screwed up about it. That’s why I wanted you to talk to him today, so he’d apologize. I hope he did, but I know he’s not good at stuff like that.”

“He did,” Noah told her. “We’re okay. I—I actually think he’s a really cool guy. I wish we could be friends.”

“That would be the best. I don’t know how long you’d be able to put up with him, but it’d be nice while it lasted.”

“If Toby can put up with him, then so can I.”

“Toby’s a different case. He took a lot of shit for so long that I think, in his mind, if he gives up on Josh now, then he’ll be wasting all that time and energy. The Josh you know is a completely different person from the boy Toby met, like, ten years ago. He used to be so much worse. He would, like… mimic my dad a lot of the time. I don’t think Toby realized what was happening, because he was so young, but yeah. It was bad. He probably just thought Josh was playing rough with him, not doing it on purpose.”

Wait, what? The implications of that comment turned his blood into ice, throat closing.

“In his defense, he didn’t know what he was doing,” Tiffany quickly continued. “He really did think that’s what you do when you like somebody, and you know he’s like, fucking in love with Toby, so yeah. It was…”

Oh my god? There were no words in Noah’s mouth, lips parted speechless. He just couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His heart sunk deep in his chest—he had to say something.

“Anyway.” Tiffany turned away again, trying to look unbothered, but this very obviously affected her; her shoulders were tense, movements stiff. It was a delicate topic that Noah wished they’d never stumbled upon. He really didn’t want to know. “Let’s see what the girls are doing, yeah? I bet they got some cute stuff.”

“Yeah, I bet they did.” His voice was quiet, practically a mumble; his lips were numb. There was nothing to be done about this, was there? A scream came up his throat, but never actually left.

The look on Stacy’s face was unlike any other he’d ever seen. Her eyes zeroed in on them the moment they approached, going straight for their arms, where they met. She held up a red dress with a very beautiful floral pattern. It hung before her, placed over her body, fully clothed.

“What do you guys think?” The excitement in her voice was absolutely fake. It didn’t sound like her at all. Why was she jealous?

Everyone agreed that it was cute, so she took it. Abby had picked out a few things as well; a new pair of pants, some shirts. Noah didn’t really pay much attention as she showed them off, staring at Stacy instead, how her eyes refused to meet with his.

Toby

There was nothing he could possibly want to do less than have dinner with Josh and Christian tonight, so when he got home, he just didn’t tell them. A couple of guys greeted him on the way in, near the door themselves, but other than that, his arrival didn’t make a stir. No one really cared what everybody else did or where they went; all the planned activities were merely suggestions of how they could spend their free time. If someone didn’t show up for a meal or skipped that day’s study session, it wasn’t cause for concern.

As expected, his room was empty, because Josh spent every single second at Christian’s now, so Toby could take a shower and lounge in bed for a while. He scrolled past endless pictures of people he no longer talked to, stopping briefly at Stacy’s most recent post to like and comment, then stopped at one of Abby’s, a picture of the girls—and Noah—at the mall. Two fingers promptly pinched the screen and zoomed in on his girlfriend, her slightly messy hair and wrinkled clothes. If he really focused, he could almost see the lipstick smudge he’d left behind. An absent smile tugged at his lips—she was so adorable. What did she think would happen when she summoned him after class? He kind of hoped that would turn into a thing they did now, quickies in empty classrooms before she rejoined her friends. Did they know? Yeah, probably; Stacy was an open book.

Not too long later, a message dropped over the top of his screen, Josh asking whether he’d be having dinner or not. Tapping on it, he replied negatively. His eyes promptly caught sight of all their previous texts, a disturbing pattern, where Josh always messaged him first, asking something or other that he simply refused to participate in. Lies on top of lies—when would Josh finally get tired of him and stop asking altogether? An invisible hand reached into his chest and squeezed his heart into a pulp. How to tell Josh everything they were doing was the exact opposite of what he wanted? They’d been so excited to live together, roommates that would share every meal and sleep in the same room, minimizing their time apart. Now, they barely saw each other, and when they did, the air around them reeked of bitterness. He just wanted Josh to choose him for once.

Backing out of their chat window, he caught sight of the group chat that Slate was in, where they planned their Friday getaways. Stacy was the only one who ever said anything in it, sharing the next address. Slate hadn’t replied this time. One tap opened up the group’s info, and another took him to Slate’s direct messages, perfectly blank. He hesitated—again, there was nothing to say. No, that wasn’t true; there was, in fact, so much he could say that he had no idea where to even begin. Tomorrow held so many promises that he’d rather not even think about it, pulse quickening in his veins. Without thinking, he typed.

That response came so fast he could barely believe it. His eyes widened, breath catching in his throat.

His heart skipped. Before rational thought could reach his brain, he typed out the next text and sent it.

The picture that came in clearly showed Slate in class; part of his chair poked out from behind a shoulder and some students could be seen in the back. He leaned over the desk, dark eyes low on the screen, bangs slipping over his forehead. Had he lifted his phone for this, everyone would’ve noticed it. A very small smile tugged at his lips, easy to miss, the focal point of Toby’s attention. He’d almost kissed it last week. He still remembered how close they’d been, Slate’s nose on his cheek.

His pulse quickened. A hand positioned his phone up in the air, a nicer angle. His head rested against the pillow, red t-shirt covering his chest—no, that wouldn’t do. An impulse pulled his shirt off before he nestled against the pillow again, camera up at his face. He tilted it down so it’d show just a little too much skin, shoulders visible, obvious that he didn’t have a shirt on. He sent it.

His face burned. That text usurped his undivided attention for a full fifteen seconds, staring straight at it, wide-eyed. The force with which his heart hammered into his chest made it difficult to breathe. What was this feeling? He couldn’t look away, drunk on the compliment. It hit differently when it came from Slate. No one had ever called him that before.

One of his legs came up, bent at the knee. A hand angled the phone while the other tugged onto the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling it down in a way that hid the boxers below. He stopped just before his crotch showed, hips in full view.

He pictured Slate nestled between his thighs, chests close together, kisses trailing down his neck. His eyes closed—what did he even want out of this? The mere thought of bottoming pulled all breath from his lungs, eyebrows digging into his forehead. He swallowed around a lump. Still, his face burned.

He stared at the last two words.

No response came. Then, a few seconds later, an incoming call dropped down from the top of the screen. His heart made for his throat, thumb pressing the green button anyway. He glued the phone to his ear.

“Hey.” Slate’s voice, just as smooth as he remembered it, low and deep. “Is this a roundabout way to get me to have phone sex with you? ‘Cause I’m not missing class for that.”

His lips quirked into a smile, cheeks pulsing. “Don’t you want to?”

“No. I want you, not this.”

Oh, he’d never get tired of hearing that. The adrenaline rush it gave his heart was stronger than any football game he’d ever won. There was no comparison. “What would you do if you were here, in my room?” he asked.

“I can be.”

“Just tell me.”

“I’d be on you, Tobe; on your chest, between your legs. I can’t believe you’re wearing gray sweatpants.”

“Would you go down on me?”

“Yes, absolutely. I can do it right now. Do you want it?”

His cock throbbed. “Do not come over.”

“I’ll get you off so good, you’ll never forget who did this to you. I’ll bite your thighs and give you hickeys. Let me come over.”

A hand slipped under the waistband of his pants. “Keep going.”

“I’m not doing this. If you want more, you’ll leave the lights off and the door unlocked.”

“What would you do in my room?”

“Stop.”

“If I’m lying in bed and I’m waiting for you, would you kiss me?”

“Yes, I’d kiss you a million times over. When can I do it?”

He sighed. “I don’t know.”

“I cannot believe… you’re shirtless, in sweatpants, touching yourself… and I’m on campus.”

“Can I see you?”

“Yes!”

“No, not in person. I just—I want to see you. Facetime me.”

“No. If you want to see me, you’ll have to meet me.”

“Would you… slip into my room and—”

“What?”

“Get undressed and…” His eyes squeezed shut. “Would you fuck me?”

“Yes.”

That should, for all intents and purposes, strike the fear of god in him, but right now, the mental image was infinitely welcome. He pictured it perfectly, Slate between his thighs, sinking him into the mattress. His legs spread apart, hand moving faster. “How would you do it?” It took effort to speak, voice strained. A groan left his lips.

“I can show you.”

“Please, just—would you lie on top of me? Would you—”

“You’re torturing me.”

“Would you get me off?”

“I would do so much more than that.”

“Like what? Would you—”

“I’d fuck you so hard your bed would dent the wall. I’d kiss you breathless and jerk you raw. You’d be numb by the time I’m done with you.”

A strangled noise escaped the back of his throat, hand going still. His back arched when the first wave hit, hot on his stomach, a mess in his pants. He shivered, twitching with every shot, hips up in the air.

“I hate you so much.” Slate’s voice was totally drowned out by the ringing in his ears.

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