Oh my god, you guys should all hate me for being such a lazy little asshole. I am so so sorry but I've finally come back, with a vengeance! Enjoy the chapter!
"Lovino…" Someone was shaking me, trying to wake me up. I blindly pushed them away, my eyes still firmly shut. "Leave me alone…" I muttered.
"Lovinooo!" The shaking grew more insistent and the voice grew whinier. I now recognized it as Feliciano's.
I groaned and opened my eyes. "What? I asked darkly. It was 5 AM, for Christ's sake.
"Antonio's sick."
"Sick? What do you mean, sick?"
"He's in the bathroom right now-" Feliciano stopped when sounds of retching finished the sentence for him.
I groaned again. "Why me?" I asked the ceiling, reluctantly leaving the refuge of my bed.
Antonio was sprawled out in front of the toilet, massaging his forehead and looking an absolute wreck. At least I wasn't in his place. He looked up and smiled weakly. "Good morning, Lovino."
"What's good about it?" I shot back. "Feli, get the poor man some water."
Feliciano nodded and scampered off.
"What did I do?" Antonio asked after a short silence.
"What do you think? You drank too much."
"I mean, what did I do after and also because of that?" He explained.
And there you have it. The ESL version of 'what happened last night?'. "You forgot how to speak English and fell asleep in my bed."
"Forgot… That is 'to not remember'?"
"Yeah."
Antonio nodded in understanding. Suddenly his eyes widened and he put his head back into the toilet. Ugh.
He just sat there moaning for a bit. I awkwardly patted his back, unsure of what to say. "This is your own, fault, you know."
"Lovino, how is it his fault?" Feliciano had returned with the water. "He didn't ask for a stomach bug."
I handed the glass to Antonio, who began rinsing his mouth. "He doesn't have a stomach bug, Feli." I gave him a significant look that was, thankfully, received.
"Ohhh…"
"Can I have a… medicine for my head?"
"Feli, get the poor man an aspirin."
Fortunately, the aspirin and a few more hours of sleep made Antonio his ordinary cheery self in time for breakfast. Grandpa didn't question Antonio's presence, opting instead to openly praise me for "coming out of my shell", in other words, attending an insane, unmonitored party with alcohol that was probably procured illegally and not returning in time to say goodnight. Grandparents are so weird.
After that, I declined all of Antonio's party invitations. I'd had my "'no thank you' helping", and I was done. He kept asking me – begging me – to come, but I never did. He kept getting better at English, and making more friends; so many that when the school announced a dance, I thought for sure that plenty of frivolous girls would ask him to be their date. I was right about that. The part I didn't expect was when he rejected every single one of them, with a characteristic, apologetic smile on his face.
Eventually, I asked him what the hell his problem was. "She wasn't that bad looking." I was speaking about the last particular girl who'd approached him moments ago in the cafeteria.
Antonio nodded. "That's true." He'd recently started to copy the contractions he heard people use. "But I want to go with another person."
I raised my eyebrows, surprised. I didn't know he liked anyone. "Who?"
He turned to me with a wide grin. "You."
I was a little caught off guard at first. "Me?"
"Yeah! I know you don't like parties, but it isn't a party. It's at school."
Oh, that explained everything. "This isn't like a party, idiot." I scoffed. "You're supposed to go with someone you like, not your friend."
He tilted his head, confused. "But… I like you!"
"No, no, you've got it wrong." I said pretty patiently, at least for me. "You ask someone who you really like, more than you like a friend."
"But, you're my friend, and I like you more than I like my other friends." He insisted.
"Yeah, I get it; we're best friends, great." I could tell I was going to have to spell this out even more clearly for him. "But I'm talking about someone you'd want to kiss, or at least dance with."
"I'm talking about that, too!"
Wait, what? He had to be mistaken, there's no way he could mean that. "What the hell are you on about?"
"I like you, Lovino." He said simply. "I want to go to the dance with you."
He had to be joking. This had to be some stupid joke. "Ha-ha, you're really funny. Now tell me who you're really going to ask."
He gave me a concerned look. "I'm not being funny. I'm being serious."
I still didn't quite believe him. "No, you're not."
"Yes, I am!"
Now I felt – inexplicably – scared, my heart beating wildly in my chest. "What the hell?" I shouted. "Why would you say that?"
"Because… because I want to go to the dance with you…"
"Well, I don't want to go with you! Where'd you get a stupid idea like that!?" I didn't know why I was yelling, but I was.
"I… I am… sorry…"
"You damn well should be!" I stood up, pushing my chair in forcefully.
"Where are you going?"
"Away from you!"
"Lovino, I'm sorry!"
I didn't bother to answer as I stormed out of the cafeteria. There was no way I would ever be interested in that stupid bastard. Okay, so he was attractive, but I wasn't attracted to him. And not a thing in hell would make me like his personality. Always so chipper, and eager, smiling that handsome smile- no, it was a stupid, annoying smile. Damnit. It was his damn fault for making me think that way. That wasn't what I really thought.
By the time the bell rang I had calmed down a little, enough to go to class acting like nothing had ever happened. At least I didn't have it with Antonio. I wasn't completely rid of him, though. He sent me a text message during the passing time:
I'm very sorry, Lovino. We're friends? :)
That was one clumsily worded question I wasn't quite sure how to answer.
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