Short Stories - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

"I'm really happy you invited us over today."
I glanced over at Lizzie from where I sat at the edge of my pool, swinging my feet through the water.
"Well, yeah," I said, offering a smile. "Why do you sound surprised?"
She shrugged. "I don't know, you've been spending a lot of time with those other guys."
"Like, a lot of time," Becca emphasized from where she lay sunbathing on a lounge chair. "We were starting to worry you'd disappear."
Which made me feel pretty guilty. "Aw, no way," I said. "I'm not group-hopping. Just kind of getting the best of both worlds."
"Why now, though?" Peter asked. He was on the other side of the pool, floating on his back. "You've been friends with Aiden forever. What changed?"
I got a lot gayer. "Nothing changed. I just wanted to see him more."
Becca snorted. "The way you say that, you make it sound like you're in love with him."
"Ooookay!" Joey exclaimed, climbing out of the pool and breaking into some kind of random spazz dance. We all stared, horrified, as he moved in a way that reminded me of an epileptic flamingo.
"Joey," I said, raising my eyebrows. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Having your back," he whispered, though I was pretty sure everyone could hear him. "I'm making a distraction."
I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing.
"Dude!" Joey whisper-yelled. "You're blowing the cover!"
"Joey," I said, a massive grin on my face. "I love you so much. You are a complete moron, and I love you."
He finally ceased his flamingo-seizure-dancing. "Well now our cover's definitely blown."
"I'm sorry," Lizzie interrupted, holding up a hand and blinking in confusion. "What on Earth is happening?"
"Joey is trying to help me hide the fact that I'm insanely gay and in love with Aiden."
The pool deck went silent. Joey blinked at me, his eyes saucer-wide. "Woah," he said. "You just did that."
Yes I did. It was completely unexpected, to both my friends and me. I'd been planning to sit down with them some day and have a serious discussion, but this just seemed so much more appropriate. It was like ripping off a bandage. Something about watching Joey, who was so academically gifted yet so lacking in any form of common sense, do whatever that was to keep my secret safe, made it a million times easier to just blurt it out. He was such an idiot, but he really did have my back—he had throughout my entire self-discovery—and knowing that gave me a weird sense of comfort and enough confidence to just say it.
"Wait, I can't tell if you're being serious or not," Peter said, staring at me with wide, confused eyes. "Are you actually gay?"
I laughed—which was insane, because I would've never imagined myself laughing mid-coming-out, but there I was, giggling like a fool. "Extremely," I said.
Peter turned his gaze to Joey. "Are you gay, too?"
Joey seemed to just be coming to terms with the fact that I'd actually done that. "No," he breathed, but he was staring at me, not Peter, and there was pride in his eyes. "Just Noah."
"And you're in love with Aiden?" Lizzie asked.
"Unfortunately, yes."
She nodded slowly. "Everything makes so much sense now."
Becca stood from her lounge chair to run up behind me and tackle me in a hug that nearly sent us both into the pool. "I'm proud of you for telling us," she said. "And even more proud of you for making a move on Aiden."
"I am not making a move."
"Fine," Becca giggled. "All I'm saying is that the two of you have been spending a lot of time together."
"Yeah," Peter agreed, swimming over and folding his arms across my knees. "Plus, you're close with his friends and his family. Which is important in a relationship."
"We're not in a—"
"And I totally get a gay vibe from him," Lizzie said, plopping down next to me.
"That's what I've been saying!" Joey said triumphantly. "See, Noah? We all agree—you've gotta go get your mans!"
All I could do was groan, because suddenly, I had three Joey's to deal with. This was the one time my friends went ten minutes without fighting, and they used it to harass me about my imaginary love life.
"Just don't get yourself hurt," Becca said, then gave my cheek a kiss. "Protect that big beautiful heart of yours."
"Yeah, and protect other things, too. Like your genitals," Joey added, and I groaned even louder, hiding my face in my hands. "Don't risk it, wrap your biscuit. Or his biscuit. Let's be real, it'll probably be his biscuit. You might not be able to end up like Ashley Parker, but you could totally become a Hunter Foley."
Over the next few weeks, my life fell into a new, busier pattern. My weekly social interaction went from a 3/10 to a solid 7, and it was mostly thanks to Aiden.
Certain things didn't change. I still had robotics club every Monday after school and debate every Tuesday. I still had Thursday study sessions with Joey, Becca, Lizzie, and Peter. And other things didn't really alter my schedule at all—like who I sat with at lunch, which tended to be a spontaneous decision based on how I was feeling that day. Sometimes I had to stop for a moment and think about the fact that I, Noah Jonathan Busch, had to choose between tables. It was crazy.
Other things were different, though. Every Wednesday after school, I went to Aiden's house and tutored him in whatever subject he was struggling in that week. Every Friday night, I went to watch him and Hunter in their football games; apparently being their close friend meant I had to go every time, even to away games. Then on Saturdays, I went to Aiden's house again, but not to help with his brothers and sisters. We left that job to Abigail and Antonio and spent our time prepping for the SAT and playing Fortnite.
I enjoyed it, of course. But holy fuck-biscuits, having friends was time consuming. And given that I had six AP classes to deal with, I felt like I was living a version of hell.
I felt a tap on my shoulder one day as I was sitting at my old lunch table talking to Peter about what our creepy anatomy teacher did with the dissected animals in his free time.
I looked behind me to see Ashley's smiling face. "Hey, Ash," I grinned. "What's up?"
"Can I talk to you?" She asked. "Outside?"
"Uh, sure," I said, despite the sweating of my palms. Because over the last few weeks of spending lunch, football games, and post-game Ponyo's with Ashley, it had grown pretty obvious—even to my oblivious ass, which was saying something—that Aiden may have been right about her.
"So," I said, awkwardly shoving my hands into my pockets once we were stood away from the cafeteria and the courtyard. "What's up?"
She clapped her hands together excitedly and said, "I, Ashley Marie Parker, formally invite you to Bay Lake on Saturday for my seventeenth birthday."
"Oh," I said, nodding. "Okay, yeah, totally. What time?"
"Seven," she said. "And if you want to bring booze, fine, but don't expect me to drink it, and absolutely no smoking. I will not let any second hand harm be done to my little angel." She rested her hands fondly on her stomach.
"Ash, I think we both know I would be the last person to bring alcohol or get high."
"'Tis true," she admitted. "But I'm still warning everyone."
I glanced around at the empty space surrounding us. "So . . . you pulled me aside, alone, just to ask me to come to your birthday?"
Ashley nodded, as if that were completely normal. "You better dress nice," she added. "Not, like, suit nice, but if your shirt doesn't have at least three buttons, I'm turning you around at the door."
"Okay . . ."
"Well, I guess not actually at the door," she rambled, "Because lakes don't really have doors. And you know I'd never turn you away. But still, you'd look all kinds of hot in a button up—without a cardigan over it—so you better wear one."
I cleared my throat. "Ashley, I think we should talk," I said, because I didn't want to lead her on and I definitely didn't want to screw up our dynamic.
"We're talking right now, silly," she teased, playing with her hair between her fingers. "Just kidding—What's your grievance, babe?"
I glanced at the floor. Never in my life did I think I would ever be in a position where I'd have to turn down one of the hottest girls at school. "I think you're awesome," I began.
"Good, because I am," she grinned.
"Ha, yeah," I said, chewing my lip nervously. How did Aiden do stuff like this on the daily? "You are. And I love being your friend. But I'm not . . . I don't . . ."
"Oh god," Ashley breathed. "Do you think I'm into you?"
I lifted my eyes to meet hers, which were sparkling with amusement. "Aren't you?"
Then she starred laughing.
"Wow, ouch," I said, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly.
"No, no," she said, catching her breath. "I didn't mean it like that. You're super cute and fun and stuff, and probably would be really into you, but you're, like, totally gay, right?"
I might've choked on air.
"How did . . . me? I mean, uh, yeah," I stammered; it wasn't like I was gonna deny it. "Who told you?"
"Your constant Aiden-I'm-in-love-with-you eyes were a bit of a giveaway."
I felt my face burn. "How long have you known?"
"Since freshman year."
My jaw fell. "You didn't even know me back then!"
"Yeah, but I saw how you were with Aiden," she explained. I ran my hands down my face, and she must have sensed my distress, because she put a comforting hand on my shoulder and said, "Don't be scared, okay? I'll keep your secret close to my chest, I solemnly swear."
She crossed her heart and wrapped me in a hug. The initial what the fuck is happening feeling was starting to wear off, and I found myself feeling more relieved than worried. "Honestly," I chuckled, "I am super impressed with your gaydar right now."
•••
Something strange happened that week. It was Friday night and I was home alone, reading an anthropology book in the living room. My parents were working at the hospital after an urgent call-in, and after the football game I was in that weird mood where I was really tired but also didn't want to sleep. It had to be at least three in the morning, but I was too caught up in the book to haul my ass to bed.
Then there was a loud, persistent knocking at the door, startling me enough to make me drop the book.
The hairs on my arms stood on end. It was pouring outside, with persistent bouts of lightning and thunder, and I was using only a lamp to read with, leaving the house around me dark. The environment was a stage perfectly set for a scene entitled The Psycho Murderer Enters.
The question was, should I run and hide, or see who it was that was still pounding on my door? It could be my parents home after performing the surgery for all I knew—they tended to misplace their keys.
So I crept silently toward to door, careful not to make noise just in case there was a crazy axe murderer, or a serial killer, or an axe wielding serial killer, on its other side.
But when I leaned into the peephole, I didn't see my parents or Jeffrey Dahmer. I quickly unlocked and opened the door to let in Aiden, who had his fist still raised and was drenched from the storm.
"Oh my god, Aiden, why—" But I cut myself off, because his body shook with a sob, and for the first time I realized that the water dripping down his face wasn't only from the rain.
"What happened?" I asked as I shut the door softly behind him. His eyes met mine for an intense second, but then they screwed shut and his face twisted up in anguish and he sobbed again. He stumbled forward and I caught him, holding on tight and offering my support, because it seemed that that was all I had the power to do.
He cried into my shoulder unceasingly, his hands clutching the fabric of my shirt. A minute passed, and then another, before he pulled back, blinking tears from his eyes, only to collapse against me again. I held him in silence, rocking slowly back and forth and not caring that my entire body was getting soaked, too.
"I'm sorry," he gasped eventually, letting go of me and wiping at his eyes with his sleeve, which did absolutely nothing, considering his hoodie was just as wet. "I just—I couldn't stay there and I d-didn't know where to go and something in my head told me I should come here and . . ."
"Hey, it's okay," I assured, pulling him into my arms once again. "I'm gonna get some clean clothes and water for you, and you're gonna take a hot shower, okay?" I whispered, but he backed away, shaking his head.
"No," he croaked, running a hand through his hair. "No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have . . . I don't know what I was thinking. You shouldn't have to take care of me."
"Hush," I said pointedly. "Shower."
Aiden gave up on arguing—which was so unlike him, it only made my heart ache for him more—and let me lead him upstairs to my bathroom. "Take your time."
Ten minutes later, he came out wearing one of my hoodies and sweatpants. His eyes were still red and miserable, and when he sat down next to me on my bed, I could hear his labored breathing.
"Thank you," He said quietly, taking a sip of the water I gave him. He was staring ahead at my wall, and I watched as tear after tear slid slowly down his cheek.
"You don't have to talk about it," I said tentatively. "Only if you want to."
He nodded, turning his eyes to the ceiling. "My mom and dad, um," he cleared his throat. "They got into a really bad fight. I mean, they fight all the time—like, all the time—but I don't think I've ever heard it get this bad. I guess they thought everyone was asleep, but I was downstairs looking for the physics book you gave me, and I heard a lot of things that I've been denying for a long time."
"Aiden, I'm so sorry," I said. I knew his parents had been experiencing a rocky patch since . . . well, since I'd known them. I'd even seen them argue before. But I never stopped to think about the impact that might have on Aiden and his siblings.
He pressed his lips tightly together, as if that would somehow stop the crying. "I think they're going to get a divorce," he said. "And I can't stand it, because I can't imagine what it'll mean for my siblings and me. There're too many of us to go from house to house, or for us to stay with one parent, and if we—" his voice broke, and he swallowed. "If we get split up, I don't know how I'll live with myself knowing it was my fault."
"Woah, hold on," I said, my eyebrows furrowing in concern. "It's not your fault. You can't tell yourself things like that."
"But it is, though." He shut his eyes tight and turned his head toward his lap, tears dripping from his chin to the pants he wore. "This whole thing is my damn fault. They never used to fight, Noah. Not like this, and not this often."
"That doesn't mean you caused it," I insisted. I'd never seen Aiden like this before, or even close, and just watching him lose himself was making me want to cry, too.
"It didn't start until we moved here," Aiden said. "And we only moved here because of me."
I blinked, confused. This was all new information to me. "What do you mean?"
He leaned his head back against the headboard of my bed. "I was picked on a lot at my old school," he confessed. "There was this group of boys who used to be my friends, but they turned on me, and insults turned into beatings and . . . and it got so bad, my parents had to pull me out of school. But homeschooling didn't really work out for me, and the county I lived in was absolute shit, so all of the other schools sucked ass. So they decided to quit their jobs, drop everything, and move here for me, because this was their hometown and there were work opportunities here.
"My parents made really good money where we used to live," he continued. "It was a lot easier to handle so many kids. But the competition beat them out here, and they had to settle for a lot less than they used to get. They're making an okay living I guess, but what's decent for a small family like yours isn't enough for one like mine. Suddenly my parents, who'd always been the model for a perfect relationship in my eyes, starting stressing. Stressing led to fighting, and I'm almost sure that fighting is going to lead to a divorce."
"Aiden . . ." I said, but he shook his head.
"I know I'm going to college soon enough, so maybe it won't affect me so much," he said. "But I can't imagine Ariana having to grow up without Allison, or Ace, or any of them. And if she does, it'll be my goddamn fault."
I was struggling to find something to say that wouldn't sound cheap. I knew I could tell Aiden that it wasn't his fault for the rest of my life and he still wouldn't listen, but at the same time, he needed to hear it again. "Aiden, it's really not fair for you to blame yourself for that. You were in an unsafe environment, and you could've gotten seriously hurt. If anything, it's the fault of the pieces of shit that bullied you in middle school. But focusing on the past isn't going to do you any good. You've gotta look forward."
My own words got me thinking, and a realization dawned on me. "That's why you're so scared about college, isn't it?"
Aiden pulled his knees up to his chest. "I don't know what I'm gonna do."
"I do," I said, and he finally turned to look at me. "You're going to work even harder to do everything we already planned. You're going to try your hardest to be as financially independent as you can by getting a full scholarship and finding a good job. That extra money you make from writing is going to go either into a savings account or here to your family."
"They're not gonna like that," Aiden said.
"Well you are going to insist," I told him. "You'll have to give up a lot of leisure, and you'll have to do it knowing it might not change anything. But it could also change everything."
For the first time, Aiden smiled. "Your ideas are always so batshit," he teased, leaning his head onto my shoulder. Then, softer, he said, "Thank you. For helping me out and for giving me your easier-said-than-done advice and for agreeing to let me stay the night."
"I didn't—"
"Well I'm staying anyways," he said, switching off the lamp on my bedside table. "I don't think I can handle going back there tonight."
I nodded, though I knew he couldn't see me in the darkness. "Yeah, sure" My voice came out hoarse, and I couldn't shake the nervous feeling from my gut. I'd slept over at his house a million times, but he'd never spent the night at mine. Somehow, it felt different. And at least seven degrees gayer. "You okay?"
For a moment, there was no response. Then he said, "Okay is a stretch. Better is more suiting. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," I said, and I fell asleep with a smile on my face, because I'd managed to at least make him feel better.
He left in the morning to make sure his youngest siblings hadn't destroyed the house or gotten hurt while he was gone, despite the fact that his parents and the next oldest Mendozas were all home. It was kind of cute, how worried and protective he got. At seventeen, he was already a better dad than a lot of men I'd met.
Okay, it was really cute.
It was the first Saturday in a while during which I didn't go to his house to help him study. Not that it mattered; when I arrived at Bay Lake at 7:20 that evening, he was already there, sitting at a picnic table and engaged in a conversation with some guy from the football team.
Somehow, though, he turned in my direction before I'd even gotten close, and a grin spread across his face as he beckoned me over. He looked nothing like the Aiden that had shown up at my house crying last night.
"Hey, we're twinning," he chuckled. "That's what chicks call it, right?"
I looked at what he was wearing, then down at my own outfit. White button up, slim black jeans, brown boots. Then again, boys tended to dress more or less the same at any events that were even semi-formal, so I was probably "twinning" with half of the guys here. "Something like that," I smiled.
He stood up from the bench, lifted my hand, and unbuttoned the cuff of my sleeve.
"What are you doing?"
He didn't answer. He rolled up my sleeve, did the same to the other, and then undid the top two buttons of my shirt. Why did gorgeous straight boys named Aiden always have to pull this homoerotic shit?
"There we go," he said, fixing my collar. "Now we look the same." Then, "You look good."
"Thanks," I coughed, turning my attention to placing my gift for Ashley on the table behind him, where too many presents to count were stacked, because I was getting embarrassingly red and wasn't about to let him see that. "Where's the birthday girl?"
"Right here!" We both turned to see Ashley walking toward us. She squealed and gave me a tight hug, and over her shoulder I caught Aiden wink at me. God, he was so clueless. "You guys look so hot."
"Happy birthday," I laughed. "You look gorgeous."
"I know," she said cheekily.
"I've gotta say." I looked around at the sheer amount of teenagers at the lake, most of whom I couldn't name. There were kids playing volleyball in a sand court, and more playing soccer in the grass. More still were eating at the various picnic benches along the shore. Most were standing around in their friend groups, talking and laughing and swaying to the music that was coming from who-knows-where. "There are a lot of people at this party."
She scoffed. "This is not a party, Noah. Parties require organization and plans. This is a gathering of as many people as I could invite. I don't give a shit what half of them do after they've put their gift on this table. You guys are the party."
"Aw," Aiden cooed. "That managed to be sweet and shallow at the same time." But then his smile dropped, and his eyes fixed on something behind me. "Why is he here?"
I turned around to see the approaching figure of Jacob Prince. One out of two out gay guys at Bay Lake High. Though, rumor had it he'd been with more than one other boy at the school, so he was known as that gay kid. The one who made straight girls wish they were boys and straight boys experiment with their sexualities.
In other words, he was crazy hot and crazy good at getting people to see that.
Ashley rolled her eyes. "Because he's my friend," she said. "I don't care about your petty disagreements. He's a nice guy."
"Princess is not a nice guy."
I narrowed my eyes and turned back around to face him. "Don't you think calling him that is kind of messed up?"
"Please," He said dismissively. "I've been calling him that since way before he came out—it's not a gay thing. It's a that guy can rot in hell for all I care thing."
"Why?"
"It's stupid," Ashley said.
"It is not stupid," Aiden said. "He tried to get me kicked off the track team in ninth grade."
"Why would he do that?" I asked. Jacob seemed like a nice guy. Arrogant, but nice.
"Because he wanted to be the rockstar freshman," Aiden said bitterly, "And he couldn't handle that I was better than him."
"C'mon, man." Jacob had come up behind Ashley and I, putting an arm around her shoulders. "It's been two years."
Aiden opened his mouth to say something, but Jacob had already directed his attention elsewhere. And that elsewhere was toward me. "Hey," he said; his annoyed expression was gone, replaced by a smile. "I've been looking for a chance to meet you, so I guess I owe Ashley some gratitude."
"Oh?" I said, returning his smile. "And why is that?"
He looked me up and down rather blatantly, and I saw Aiden gape out of the corner of my eye. This guy didn't hesitate, that was for sure. "I think you know why."
I did. And it was kind of exciting.
"So," Aiden said pointedly. "How about we take a walk? I know how much you love taking cheesy pictures of the lake at sunset."
Ashley beamed up at him. "That sounds perfect, actually. Just let me grab Brit and Hunter."
The moment she disappeared, tension descended fast over Aiden, Jacob and I. Even the guy Aiden had been talking to earlier must have felt it, because he stood up and left after about five seconds of the intense stare-down that was happening before my eyes.
"Nice suggestion," Jacob said to Aiden, flashing a cocky smirk. "Can't wait to join you."
"I don't think you're invited," Aiden said dryly, and Jacob just shrugged.
"I don't think it's up to you," he said. Then he looked at me. "Do you want me to come?"
And suddenly I was being fixed with two very intense, very competitive stares. I didn't want to upset Aiden, of course. But at the same time, I really didn't want to be mean to a stranger, because I knew myself, and I would just spend the rest of the night feeling guilty for it. So I awkwardly said, "The more the merrier, right?"
That smirk of Jacob's grew, and Aiden just scoffed and looked away. Hopefully, I hadn't upset him too much.
I realized about a minute into our walk along the shore that it might've just been easier to suck it up and be mean. There was a constant competition going on between those two, and I somehow always managed to be the center of it.
Of course, having two hot guys fight for my attention wasn't the worst situation to be in, but I didn't even know what to think myself, since I was in love with one and kind of wanted to jump the other's bones.
Aside from their weird alpha-male fight, though, it was actually really nice to walk along the lakefront as a group. The sky was a swirl of purple, blue, and red, painting the calm surface of the water with its colors. The air was warm but not hot, and there was just enough breeze to make everyone's hair look really cool without simultaneously ruining it. Ashley, Brit, and Hunter were their fun selves, and so was Aiden when he wasn't planning Jacob's demise.
Jacob was a cool guy, too. He was funny and quick and he seemed really intelligent. We bonded over a multitude of things, like favorite books and movies. He was one of the first people I'd ever met who knew all of the small indie groups and short films that I loved.
Not to mention, he was flirting with me like crazy. Sure, I was no expert when it came to romance—the last person who I thought liked me turned out to already know I was gay—but I wasn't totally clueless, either.
I wasn't sure what it was that pissed Aiden off so much—the fact that I was giving Jacob so much attention, or the fact that he was flirting with me, and I was maybe flirting with him back.
The moon had replaced the sun by the time we all rejoined everyone else by the picnic tables. A bunch of kids had stripped to their underwear and waded into the lake, and we soon found ourselves doing the same, because Ashley hit us with her "This will be one of the last times I can take off my clothes before I start showing" logic, and none of us could refuse.
Everything was perfectly civil until some kid yelled "Chicken fight!" and chaos broke loose.
Everywhere around me, water splashed as teenagers rushed to find a partner, get on their shoulders, and win what was, in that moment, the most important battle of their lives.
Jacob started swimming toward me, but before I could even think about pairing with him, Aiden yanked me to where he stood in the water and said, "You're with me, Busch."
Smiling, I said, "Of course."
I climbed onto his shoulders after he ducked into the water, and we'd hardly gotten upright when a pair of arms grabbed at me. With a gasp, I hurried to regain my balance and found myself wrestling with Jacob himself.
Laughing, I pushed at his chest—which was totally solid, might I add—as he pushed at my shoulders. Then he changed tactic, and I yelped at his fingers tickling my waist. "Oh, that is so not fair!" I exclaimed.
"All is fair in love and war, baby!" He laughed, then grabbed at my waist and used his hold to push me back, sending me tumbling into the water.
Later that night, when the sky was black and most of the random others that Ashley had invited were gone, those of us who remained sat around the lake's bonfire pit—fully clothed again—relaxing in the heat of the flame.
"This has been one hell of a night, Ash," Brit said, hugging her best friend close. "Happy birthday."
"You said that a million times already," Ashley giggled, but I was pretty sure she could hear it a million more and never get sick of it.
Aiden, who was sat on my left, nudged my shoulder to get my attention. "Hm?" I hummed, raising my eyebrows expectantly.
"It's weird, I never imagined you'd be such a hit with my friends."
"Why is that?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I always knew you'd get along. I just didn't think it would be so quick. I always pictured you as the quiet-until-comfortable type, but you spent your first time at my lunch table having freaky scientific verbal sex with Ashley."
I laughed at the memory. "That was an experience for sure. Why'd you think that, though? Was I like that when we first met?"
"No," he said, his eyes lighting up in amusement. "That's why it's so dumb. I think seeing you be the smart, professional, snobby—" I chuckled at that bit, "—person you are at school just made it seem, I don't know, right. Is that stupid?"
Strangely enough, it wasn't. "No, I get it," I said. "It's the same with you; seeing you be all popular and shit makes it a lot easier to envision you as things you aren't, like fake or—or douchy. That's the power of stereotypes, I suppose."
Aiden nodded. "Some if it's true, though, huh? I can be pretty douchy, and you do get shy sometimes. Not to mention you say things like I suppose."
I scoffed. "Well fuck you too, Casanova."
Laughing, he said, "You know what's dumb? You've met all of my friends, but I haven't met yours."
"I don't know if you want to. My friends are a whole new level of pretentious, mixed with know-it-all attitudes and a dash of white privilege."
"Well if I can handle you, I can handle them."
"I won't even argue that," I grinned. "But in all seriousness, they're really great, and I think they'd love you. Though I've gotta say, I'm curious where this is coming from."
Aiden turned his gaze to the fire, which illuminated his face in a warm glow. "It's coming from the fact that once I get a little, I want more."
"Oh?" I said, and he looked back at me again with that stupidly perfect smile of his. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," he said, "That you're the coolest person I know, and now that I've spent so much time with you that doesn't involve making dinosaur-shaped mac and cheese, I'm using your friends as an excuse to grab at even more."
I bit my lip to try stop myself from beaming like an idiot, but I couldn't help it. "On Thursdays we go to the school library and study. You can come if you want, and we can get food after or something."
"I get to sit in on one of your smart-sessions?" He asked, fixing his collar and raising his chin jokingly. "Oh, it would be my greatest honor." Then he dropped the act and said, "Hell yeah, just sitting in that circle is bound to boost my IQ."
I smirked. "Yeah, we're magical like that."
He put an arm around my shoulders. Maybe I was imagining things, but it seemed like he'd been doing that more often lately.
"The one downside to you being friends with all of my friends is that I'm not used to having to share you with other people. That part kind of sucks."
I opened my mouth to say something, though I'm not sure what it would have been, because I was too busy blushing and feeling super gay. But before I could even get to making a stammering fool of myself, Jacob's voice sounded from my right.
"I'm sorry, can I just . . ." Aiden's expression instantly dropped as Jacob lifted a hand and fixed a stray strand of my hair. "Sorry," he said with his charming smile."Had to."
And when he was finished, his hand lingered on my cheek for a short moment.
"Okay, seriously," Aiden snapped. "What is your problem?"
Jacob shot him a dude, what the hell? look. "Excuse me?"
"Can you cut it out with the flirting and eye-fucking for five damn minutes? It's creepy as hell!"
"Aiden," I said, my eyes wide. "Chill. He's just being friendly."
"Don't be an idiot, Noah!" He said, rising to his feet. "You know as well as I do that he's being more than friendly."
"So what if I am?" Jacob said defensively, standing as well. I also got up, very aware of everyone else around the fire staring at us.
"He's not into you!" Aiden exclaimed, and Jacob's eyebrows shot up incredulously.
"Well he sure hasn't told me that yet!" He remarked. "And if he does, I'll say 'okay' and back off, but that's his choice, not yours. It's no different than when you flirt with every other girl who crosses your path knowing she may or may not be interested."
"Why are you being like this?" I asked Aiden exasperatedly. "Since when do you care about who flirts with me? Ash does it all the time."
Aiden's eyebrows furrowed. "Ashley—Ashley's a girl! This is fucking weird."
There was this uncomfortable clench in my chest, and I was pretty sure I finally knew what heartbreak felt like, because Aiden had just said something I'd been afraid of hearing for years. "Weird?" I said lowly, my eyes narrowed into a glare. "This is weird?"
"That's ironic, coming from you," Jacob scoffed. "Given you flirt with him as much as I do."
Aiden faltered. "What?"
"You're with me, Noah," Jacob mocked. "Oh Noah, you're the coolest guy I know. I just wish I didn't have to share you." He dropped the act, his glare only getting hotter. "Just because you don't understand what you're feeling doesn't mean you have to push your confusion onto me."
Aiden opened his mouth, then closed it again, like he didn't know how to respond to that. "I haven't been . . . the hell do you know, anyways?" Then he turned to me accusingly. "I don't get it; why don't you just tell him to back the hell off?"
"Maybe because I don't want him to," I snapped. "Maybe the flirting hasn't been one-sided, and maybe I am into him like that."
The air around me went dead quiet, save for the crackling of the fire. I could see the gears turning in Aiden's head as surprise and doubt and guilt all made their way onto his expression at once.
"You—you're . . .?"
"Yeah, I do, and I am. Sorry if that's weird to you."
"No, god," he backtracked, regret clear on his face. "I didn't mean—you know I'm not like that, Noah. I'm s—"
I shook my head. "I was planning on telling you eventually, you know. But I didn't think it would happen like this. And I certainly didn't think it would be such a spectacle."
I glanced around again at everyone else, who'd been sitting and watching the entire exchange like it was some kind of live reality performance for their entertainment.
"Sorry, Ashley," I said. She stood up to give me a hug, understanding clear in her expression, and I kissed her cheek and told her "Happy birthday," one last time before turning to leave.
I paused; out of the corner of my eye, I could see Aiden moving to stop me. But then Jacob grabbed him by the arm, and Aiden shoved him off, and I turned the rest of the way as a brainless fight broke out behind me. The sound of yells followed me as I made my way to my car.