Tamara had given Call a book of coupons for his birthday. Specifically, joke-coupons. And all of them were about Aaron, which, apparently, Tamara thought was hilarious. Call did not think Tamara was hilarious. He thought she had no sense of subtlety and that her lack of tact was going to get him killed.
Okay...maybe not killed-killed, but he was definitely going to die of shame. If Jasper heard about this...Well, expect Jasper deWinter to be a homophobic pancreatic sore, Call thought.
The coupons said things like: "Free hug from Aaron Stewart", and "Aaron Stewart's eternal love", and honestly, Call would've considered just burning the thing, except they hadn't actually learnt fire magic yet, and he didn't want to get yelled at by Master Rufus for accidentally burning down the Magisterium.
Of course, if he did accomplish that, Call thought, his dad would probably be thrilled, since it'd mean Call would be forced to go home. Call tried not to think about that—his feelings about his dad versus his feelings about the Magisterium were...complicated, to say the least. He didn't like dredging them up; he preferred those thoughts stay in the unilluminated dark backstreets of his mind, where they belonged.
He pushed the unwelcome thoughts of his father away, and focused on yelling at Tamara instead.
"I can't believe you actually made this for me—"
"Aw, Call, it was nothing," Tamara teased.
"Let me finish! I can't believe you were crazy enough to actually make this for me, and then actually give it to me! You can't be serious, Tamara. What if Aaron saw this? What would he think?"
"He'd think that I was a comedy genius, Call."
Call rolled his eyes. "You're the only one who thinks that, Tamara."
"Yeah, yeah. It's a joke present, Call. It's not like there's anywhere to go shopping a million miles underground, anyway. It's supposed to be funny. Laughter is good for you."
Call tried to glare at Tamara, but the truth was, he just didn't have the energy. It was hard to be mad at your friend, especially your friend who had remembered your birthday. Celia had remembered to congratulate him, and even Jasper had remembered to be extra rude today. Aaron...
Well, Call had reasoned, Aaron's the Makar now. Being that busy...he was bound to forget something little, like this. Call told himself he didn't mind, but then, Call wasn't very good at listening to reason, even when it was himself he was arguing with. You'd think then, at least, he'd win some of the time. But no such luck. Call was just as stubborn against his own arguments as he was to anyone else's.
"Maybe I hate laughter," Call said, just to be contrary. "Maybe I want to bask in the darkness of my—"
"Whoa, hold up," Tamara said. "You did not just utter the words, "bask in darkness" unironically. Did you?"
Call threw the book at Tamara, but he missed. Never being allowed to play sports had its consequences; Call's aim wasn't very good. The book landed on the floor, opening to a page of coupons that said "Eat pizza with Aaron Stewart (the non-lichen kind)". Why Tamara thought he'd need thirty of these, Call wasn't sure, because Master Rufus rarely brought them real pizza; usually, they had to defeat wyverns or survive torture by gummi worms and disco music first.
Apparently, the book's loud THUMP! woke Aaron, who'd been asleep in his room since this afternoon. The door to Aaron's room opened, and a pair of dark green eyes stared out at them.
Call and Tamara both froze in place. Aaron was usually a pretty nice guy, but he was scarier than a Chaos-ridden wolf if you disturbed his sleep or woke him too early; and Aaron had spent the entire day, the entire last week or so, having separate Makar lessons. It'd really taken a toll on him; these days, he didn't hang out with his friends in the Gallery after classes. Instead, he seemed to spend as much time sleeping as he possibly could. Call felt sorry for him, but he wasn't sorry enough that he wouldn't run for his life if Aaron tried to kill them for being so noisy.
Call expected Aaron to start yelling at them, disavow their friendship and proclaim eternal enmity...possibly, Call thought, maybe he'd even use his Makar powers to suck them into a hole in the floor as revenge. For about half a second, Call thought he wouldn't mind disappearing into the void—Tamara's coupon book was still lying open on the floor, and the last thing Call needed was for Aaron to see that when he was already ticked off.
Call briefly wondered if he could take what he'd learnt levitating sand and apply it to covertly closing the book. Maybe if he concentrated, he could turn the book invisible. ...Maybe if he concentrated, he could turn himself invisible. He knew that, with his leg, he'd never be able to outrun Aaron even if he took off now.
What Call failed to realize, and what he noticed quite a bit too late, was that in his panic, his gaze had fallen to the book of coupons, and had remained fixated there long enough for Aaron to notice Call wasn't scared of him, but of something on the floor. Something Havoc was chewing.
"Hey, give me that," Aaron said, crossing the room and snatching the book out of Havoc's mouth.
Aaron shook his head.
"You guys have to be more careful with your stuff," he complained. "What if Havoc had choked on this?"
Call gulped. He wanted to ask Aaron to give it back before Aaron had time to notice what it was; but then, asking for it back would imply ownership, and Call didn't want Aaron thinking that thing was his...
"Hey," Aaron said, "What is this, anyway? Did Call get a present from home?"
That caught Call off-guard.
"Why would I—"
"Because today's your birthday, right? Didn't your dad send you anything?"
Call was about to say Alastair had sent him some sour gummi worms and chocolate, and a very curt letter, but Aaron interrupted him.
"What is this?" he said again, but this time, Call knew he wasn't asking what it was. He was asking what Call was doing with it; because after all, what 13-year-old boy in his right mind has a book of coupons just lying around? Coupons that all specified various things he could do with his male best friend.
Call was about to jump to his own defense; he was going to tell Aaron it was all Tamara's stupid joke, he was going to claim that no, he was not a gay loser who was crushing on Aaron, because how weird would that be? Call didn't know much about this best-friends business, but he was pretty sure that liking someone who didn't like you back was a one-way ticket to ruining your friendship forever.
Why was Tamara so stupid? It was probably because she was friends with Jasper. All those years of hanging out with him as kids; some of his stupidity must have rubbed off on her, that was it.
Call cleared his throat, or tried to. He was going to speak up. Any moment now...But he couldn't. His voice had deserted him, choked by panic; he could feel his mouth moving but nothing was coming out. Tamara was similarly quiet, probably contemplating her life choices. On the bright side, Call thought, at least Tamara would probably apologize for ruining his life.
Aaron was flipping through the coupon book, first with eyebrows raised (out of surprise or horror, Call couldn't tell), his expression gradually settling into neutral. Aaron plucked a few coupons out of the book, and handed them to Call.
"Happy Birthday, Call," he said, and kissed him on the cheek.
He handed the book of coupons back to Tamara, and whispered so Call wouldn't hear: "Thanks, Tamara."
Tamara didn't see it, but as Aaron went back to his room, a stupid little grin spread over his face.
Call stood in the middle of the common room, practicing his tomato impersonation while remembering how to breathe. And think. And recall the concept of passing time. He uncurled his fingers, and smoothed out the crumpled coupons to read what they said.
Aaron Stewart's forgiveness—that one must be for waking him up, Call thought—and, perhaps not that unexpectedly: "One free kiss from Aaron Stewart".
"Tomorrow," Call said, mostly to himself, "I'm gonna tell Aaron I like him."
Call didn't know it then, but Aaron, alone in the darkness of his room, had just silently promised himself the same thing.