Alex jolted out of sleep to the front door slamming shut, and he held himself still, keeping his breathing deep and even. If anyone were to peek through his window, he would seem to still be asleep, calm and unaware- but his heart was beating a mile a minute, and he thought that perhaps he could hear his blood vibrating in his veins. After a long moment of silence, he cracked his eyes open a sliver and peeked out from under his lashes.
His room was empty. Sunlight was just spreading through the slats of his blinds, spilling across his floor in horizontal patterns.
It was probably just Alil, he told himself.
He forced himself to pry his eyes open further, sucked in a deep lungful of air, and stood up.
When he shuffled downstairs, he found the living room empty. So was the kitchen.
Alil was gone. He'd left the house. This put him immediately on edge, because Alil didn't leave. In fact, in all the time he'd been living with Alex, Alex could count on his hands the number of times Alil had gone out.
He couldn't help the bubble of worry that rose in his chest. What had happened? Was he okay? Why the hell had he left the house? He didn't even buy his own groceries, what could he have possibly wanted that he needed to leave?
And Alil was a bit of a jackass, so of course he hadn't thought to leave a note or anything. Of course.
He stood in the hallway for a minute, gnawing on his lip, eyes darting between the kitchen and the living room, shoulders hunched.
They'd built up a routine. Why was Alil so set on ruining it these days? Why couldn't he just let things be?
Damn it.
He went back upstairs and opened the cabinet in his bathroom, and mechanically removed the wrappings on his hand. He made sure to smear pain relieving cream on as many bruises as he could reach, and then, because he couldn't stand the thought of staying in the silent house for any longer than he needed to, he got dressed and walked to school, despite the early hour.
The walk did him well. It was just about 6:30 and the air was brisk, the sky overcast. He took in a deep breath, face pointed toward the cresting sun. It was going to rain. He loved weather like this.
A few years ago, these would have been perfect running conditions to him. He would have gotten up before school and pounded out a few miles, no music, just the chill of the air and the throbbing of his feet against the pavement. He'd been trying to get back in the habit, but recently, just the thought of so much running exhausted him. He was doing his best to get back into weight-training in the home-gym Ian had installed in the basement, but even that was pushing it. Recently everything was exhausting him.
He walked to school, and the sting of the wind in his face told him he was alive.
When he got to Brookland Comprehensive, he meandered around the pavilion in the front for a few moments, thoughts tumbling listlessly around his mind like water in a stagnant stream.
A shock of bright magenta caught his attention.
It was Martinique.
She was sitting on a stone bench, head bent over a textbook. Every few moments she'd give a little twitch and her arm would rise and she'd highlight something on the page. He watched her for a moment, entranced by the simplicity of the actions.
Her face raised suddenly, as if she'd sensed his gaze, and her dark eyes zeroed in on him like a heat seeking missile. They stared at each other for a moment, and then Alex decided to hell with it and walked over.
"Martinique."
"Alex."
She inclined her head slightly at the space next to her and he carefully lowered himself down onto the bench.
"You're here early."
"I'm always here early. I like the quiet."
Alex thought that perhaps that was a bit of a reproach, but, well, she had invited him to sit, so he processed the thought and then let it slip away into the reeds.
The book she was holding was one he recognized as belonging to the advanced biology class. Alex wasn't in it, but he thought he might like to give it a try next year. He gave a nod to the book. "How's Mrs. Bertram's class?"
"She's a good teacher. She knows what she's talking about but she isn't condescending."
Alex nodded at that and then the two of them fell into somewhat awkward silence. He stared off into the distance vaguely, unconsciously pressing minute pressure onto the knuckles of his left hand with the palm of his right. Sometimes he felt like his body wasn't in enough pain- it was a thought that popped up every once in a while, usually in the dark of the night, and it always left him feeling vaguely dirty and ashamed. It was just that… well... he'd lived for a long time never feeling comfortable. Never feeling safe. He'd had so many aches and burning pains and for more than a year his body had just been a vessel for injury. It had seemed like that was all he was on earth for, just pain and blood and dirt in open wounds. Sometimes, even now, it was hard to shake the feeling that something was wrong when he laid down at night and his body didn't hurt.
Fortunately- or perhaps Tom would say unfortunately- he was in a healthy dose of pain at the moment. His ribs were aching, his shoulder twinged, and the tendons in his hand were still swelling against his skin. Things were normal. He was alright.
Martinique put down her highlighter abruptly, interrupting his thoughts."Why'd you do it?" She asked, and he pulled himself back into the present.
"Do what?"
"You know what." She scowled down at his hand. "That. It's been a while. I want to know what happened."
He held himself perfectly still. "I'm not sure what exactly you're trying to say."
Except he did. Of course he did. Because him and Martinique didn't know each other, not really. They weren't friends. Hardly acquaintances. But Martinique was so damn observant. She noticed things, she was too smart for her own good, and she was apparently bolder than he had anticipated.
Martinique huffed. "I've been at this school longer than you have, Alex. I was there when John Ryan mysteriously transferred schools and Ethan Swanson showed up to school with a heavy limp. And I know how you and Tom became friends."
John Ryan and Ethan Swanson. Alex had almost forgotten about them. Aaron Black should have been included in that list, now that he thought about it, but apparently he'd been lost to time.
When he'd first showed up to Brookland Comprehensive, he'd been much younger and he'd looked much softer. People had thought they could take advantage of his pre-supposed weakness- Alex had quickly proven them very wrong.
To his dismay, although he was older, he still looked a little softer than he'd like, but he'd built up enough of a reputation that he was left well enough alone.
"And I know you burned down the science wing a few years ago."
His eyes shot to her abruptly. "I didn't do that."
Her eyebrows raised. "Yeah? Then how come the caretaker Bernarnd Lee quoted in his police interview that he saw you heading inside just before the fire broke out?"
Alex stared at her, stunned. How could she possibly know that?
She must have seen the question on his face because she snorted and said, "My dad's a cop."
"Of course he is." He sighed heavily, and firmed himself to keep his shoulders from drooping because today was going just great. "Look, Martinique, I didn't set fire to the science department- it was old and in need of repair, and if your father really is a police officer then you should also know that the investigation ruled out arson."
"And how would you know that?"
He met her eyes and enunciated clearly, "People like to gossip."
She flushed, the colour only faintly visible beneath her dark skin. "Behind most gossip is a kernel of truth."
"Sometimes. Sometimes not. I mean, is it true that you murdered your ex-boyfriend? What was his name, Jensen? Killed him and buried his corpse in your backyard?"
A flash of hurt flew across her face so quickly Alex could almost believe he'd imagined it, and then her eyes hardened and her jaw clenched in irritation. "Nobody really believes that happened."
"Some people do. And I think you know that. Kind of hurts, doesn't it? That people would believe you're that kind of person. That you'd do something like that."
Because Martinique was very intelligent and very talented, but she was also an irregularity- she wasn't quite normal, and that made her an obvious target for the in-groups and their whispers. Much like Alex, she didn't quite fit in.
Her jaw tightened even further and they sat in silence again. And then Martinique let out a slow steady stream of breath and said, "Jensen moved. His parents got an abrupt and awful divorce and he went with his mom to Glasgow. He didn't tell any of his friends what happened because he was clinically depressed and ashamed about his parents' behaviour. That's the truth of it."
She looked at him challengingly.
He wanted to scowl. She'd backed him into a corner. He obviously couldn't tell her about what really went down the evening the science wing caught alight because there was no way to explain fucking Julius Grief, and also, just thinking about Julius set his blood to boil with such bitterness and rage that he hadn't felt in a long long time. So. Best to avoid that.
So instead he said, "I hurt Len and Robert and Andre because they were pushing around a friend of mine. I went into the locker room the day before yesterday and I told them nicely that they needed to stop. They didn't. So I punched Len in the face and that started things. They hurt me, I hurt them, and in the end, I finished things and now they'll leave my friend alone. That is the truth of that."
She watched his face like a hawk, eyes looking for any sign of deceit, and when she didn't find any, she conceded. "You beat them up because they were messing with your friend?"
He shrugged non-committedly.
"And the science wing?"
"I told you I didn't burn it down, but I don't have anything to prove to you. I don't think I need to provide any excuses or explanations. It wasn't me. That's all there is, isn't it?"
He could easily make up an excuse, all things considered, but, well… What he'd told Martinique had been the truth. He didn't owe her an excuse. He didn't owe her anything.
She nodded slowly. "Alright. I can accept that."
"Why do you care so much?"
"I don't. I'm just… curious."
And unfortunately, Alex could understand that too. Brookland wasn't a bad school, but it was… boring. Ordinary. Nothing really seemed to happen there- discounting the shooting two years ago, if only because that wasn't a Brookland issue, it was an Alex issue. And Alex could recognize in Martinique a familiar restlessness. A hunger for more. His curiosity manifested in jumping out of 14th floor windows and breaking into locked research compounds, hers seemed to display in learning as much as physically possible, whether it be classes or clubs or extracurriculars, and interrogating suspected arsonists.
He could sympathize. He could also back the hell off immediately because if anyone could weasel their way into his secrets, it was probably Martinique.
"Well, you have the right to your curiosity, but I'd appreciate if you left me out of it in the future."
"If you can keep yourself from doing suspicious things, then maybe we have a deal."
They eyed each other warily for a moment, and then Alex got up and Martinique picked back up her highlighter.
"Martinique."
"Alex."
He shuffled off, feeling more unnerved than he had in quite some time. The school was still pretty empty and he had a healthy amount of time left before the late bell rang, so he found his way to the library. The library had always been something of a sanctuary for him at Brookland, and he thought that the quiet would be appreciated right about then.
When he got to the library he slipped inside, nodding to Mrs. Benson, the woman at the front desk.
He scanned the tables at the front for a place to sit, and his eyes caught immediately on a familiar head of darkly dyed hair. Day was sitting next to a vaguely familiar blonde, chairs scooted within inches of each other. They were bent over a large book, laughing quietly to themselves.
It took a moment for him to remember, but then the name of the blonde clicked into place. It was Kelly Pierce. Day's ex-girlfriend.
Oh.
Chest tight, he stood for a moment, trying to decide whether he would just turn around and leave, like he wanted to... Jesus, he was such a fucking coward. He was trying to get over that. And who cared anyway? Honestly, who cared whether Day was still close to his ex? Not Alex. Day could talk to whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and it wasn't Alex's business. He didn't have any sort of right to feel uncomfortable or jealous, or whatever this feeling hanging deep in his heart was.
He swallowed and started past them. He had only taken a few steps when Kelly looked up and saw him. Her eyes widened and she stopped laughing abruptly.
"Alex!" She blurted, and Day's head shot up as well, eyes wide.
Alex, face carefully controlled into his regular mask of neutrality, nodded to both of them. Although to his self-loathing, he couldn't quite bring himself to look directly at Day.
"Good morning," he said and kept moving, not leaving any room for a response.
He burrowed his way deep into the book shelves, finding his way to the tables at the very back. They were blessedly empty, and he dropped himself into a chair with an almost painful sigh.
He was exhausted.
He hesitated briefly and then folded his arms across the table and carefully lowered his head onto his forearm. His cheek pressed against the soft fabric of his jacket and he let out another slow exhalation of breath.
The sudden urge to go home and lay down in bed swept over him like a tidal wave. God, he was always so tired these days.
He remembered, with a sudden burst of nostalgia, being young and watching TV on the couch, getting so exhausted that he would fall asleep right there on the sofa. He'd wake up to light shakes and a quiet voice whispering "Alex kiddo, you need to get up. You need to go to bed."
He would open his eyes blearily and Ian would be there, smiling over at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
He loved him so much. He missed him so much. Despite his absences and the bad choices he'd made and all the hurt he'd caused Alex, it couldn't be denied that Ian had tried his best. He'd been unprepared for a child and he hadn't ever wanted kids, but he'd taken Alex in and he'd tried his best.
Not for the first time, he wished that Ian were still alive. He'd been a quiet man, preferring the company of books and magazines to talking, but when Alex needed advice, he always knew just what to say.
But, Alex wondered, what would Ian think about this particular problem?
Ian had never seemed to have any problems with gay people. In fact, he'd gone so far as to explain to Alex that homophobia was irrational and lacking in any form of empathy.
But it was always different when it was your own kid, wasn't it?
Would he have been disappointed? That Alex wasn't who Ian had thought he would be? Would he have been scared? The world was so much harder for gay people. So so much harder.
And frankly, God, what would Jack have thought? He had loved her too. She had been so much like a sister to him. She had laughed at all his jokes, even if they were terrible. She'd tucked him in more often than Ian had, and had come to more parent-teacher meetings too.
But she had never talked about gay people. Alex had no idea what her opinions were of the LGBTQ community.
Would it be too much for her? What would have happened if he had sat down and told her that he had a crush on a boy?
She would have accepted him, Alex told himself reasonably. If she had stuck with him through all the horrors of Blunt and Jones, he couldn't imagine she would turn her back on him for something like this.
But he would never know, now. Not for certain.
With a sinking heart, he realized that he would have to live the rest of his life wondering whether his dead loved ones would have remained loved ones. Jesus.
Perhaps there was more to Destinee's warnings about depressing thoughts than he'd previously considered.
His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps and he raised his head off his arms to see Day approaching, a cautious look on his face.
"Alex?"
Alex blinked up at him. "Day."
"Hey mate. Um. Can I sit with you for a bit?"
"...Sure."
Day took the seat adjacent to him quietly and stared at him in silence, biting his lip. He absentmindedly tapped one of his stupid long fingers against the tabletop and it took everything in Alex not to stare.
He thought that the general atmosphere was definitely awkward. Definitely. Well, maybe. So honestly, Alex always felt a little awkward around Day, but this time he thought that perhaps it wasn't just him. He asked indifferently, "Kelly leave?"
"Yeah. You know her then? Kelly, I mean?"
"Not really. We had maths together two years ago, I think, but that's it."
"Oh. Well… so you might know that we dated? Last year?"
Alex felt that twinge in his chest again and he shrugged noncommittally "I heard that, yes."
"Right." Day was staring at him, an indecipherable expression on his face. "Well then. You probably also heard that we broke up."
Alex nodded. "I'm sorry."
Day tilted a corner of his lips up, not looking too upset. "It was for the best. We're much better as friends."
Alex nodded again, wondering why Day was telling him this.
But Day seemed to be satisfied that they had reached some sort of conclusion on the subject, because he smiled and said, "Well, anyway, good to see you! What are you doing here so early? You don't usually get to school until later."
He was taken a bit aback by Day's casual certainty, but he just shrugged. "Just… needed to get out of the house. You know?"
"Honestly, yeah. I have two younger sisters and I love them both to death, but sometimes they can drive me absolutely insane."
"Yeah? How old are they?"
"Robin is 9, Sierra is 3."
"That's a lot of youth under one roof."
"Tell me about it. What about you? You have siblings?"
"No. It's just me."
"Hmm. So parent problems?"
Alex shifted uncomfortably, looking away. Oh. Right. It wasn't exactly common knowledge that Alex was an orphan, but most people close enough to him to ask about his home life knew that he lived with his uncle. Or had lived with his uncle. Or- damn it. They knew not to ask about his parents, at least.
"... Something like that."
He glanced back at Day, only to find the other boy staring, wide-eyed down at Alex's hands. He'd unconsciously clenched them at the mention of his parents, which only highlighted the ugly bruising and raw redness of his knuckles. Oh. He'd forgotten to rewrap his hands. He forced himself to relax, cheeks flushing, and Day jerked his head up.
"I-" he cleared his throat. "Sorry, I-" His eyes darted down again and Alex grew redder.
"Day-"
"It's just, that looks way worse today," he blurted. "Like, really bad. Have you seen a doctor?"
Alex's jaw tightened. "I don't need to see a doctor."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Nothing's broken. Nothing's even sprained. It's just swelling, and the first few days are always the worst."
And now Day was staring at him and he got the sudden and intimate impression that he'd said something wrong.
"Alex…"
"Look, seriously, I'm fine, okay? It hurts a bit right now, I admit that, but that's just because I forgot to treat it this morning. I'll do it when I get back home and it'll be okay."
Day hesitated for a very long moment, and then let tumble out, "Can I wrap it for you?"
Alex's brows shot up and for the first time it was Day's turn to blush. "I mean, not at your house, but like, I just-" He groaned and raked a hand through his dark hair. "Hold on."
He bent down and rummaged through his backpack, which had been shoved under the table. He emerged, to Alex's disbelief, with a bright red first aid kit.
"Um-?"
"My mom used to be a nurse," Day admitted, face still red. He set the kit on the table and popped it open. "She's also kind of paranoid."
"...Huh."
"Yeah. So. Can I..?" He gestured at Alex's hand, holding a tube of Bengay, and Alex considered him for a long moment.
"Okay," he said finally. "But I do the cream, you do the bandages, and we never mention it again."
"...Okay." Day unscrewed the tube's cap, as if Alex wasn't capable of it or something, and handed it over.
There was silence as Alex squeezed the cream across his knuckles and began to slowly massage it in, holding in a wince because hadn't he just said it wasn't so bad? However he couldn't help the flinch that came when he accidently pressed his arm against the side of his table right over one of his worst bruises, and all of a sudden Day was leaning across the table, eyes wide, breath warm against his face.
"Alex? You good? Was that your hand?"
"No, I-" he blinked rapidly, leaning back to put some space between them so he could think. "It…" And then he sighed. "Hold on." He shrugged out of his jacket carefully, leaving him in just his long sleeve shirt and then he gingerly rolled his left sleeve up about a quarter of his arm.
"Alex," Day breathed, and Alex twisted his lips. Yeah. It looked kind of bad.
His arm was covered in bruises. Well honestly, just three of them and a weird slash, but one of them was pretty big and mottled and on top of that- or rather, under that- he had a few pretty awful scars that stretched white and aged over his skin.
Ignoring Day, he smeared cream over the biggest of the bruises and lightly swiped it in with small, gentle movements.
Day cleared his throat. "So. Can I ask-?"
"Car door," Alex answered, meeting Day's eyes challengingly. The other boy nodded slowly, eyes flitting back down to the clearly hand-shaped bruise just under Alex's wrist.
"Right."
But he didn't say anything else to that and that was all Alex had hoped for. He held out his hand silently, and Day tore open a roll of bandages-
and then carefully pulled Alex's hand toward him.
His fingers were long and thin and felt impossibly warm against the underside of Alex's wrist. He turned Alex's hand over gently so that it was palm up, and looked curiously at it. "Oh. You have calluses."
"Yes, I-"
But then Day lightly swiped his thumb across his calluses and and the rest of his words got swept away in a rush of heat.
"Nnh." Alex said, eyes wide.
Day looked up at him from under his eyelashes. "Did that hurt?"
"N-No, it-" He was sure his face was bright red. "It just startled me."
Day's lips quirked but to Alex's eternal relief and disappointment, he didn't repeat the action. Instead he pressed one end of the bandages against the middle of Alex's palm and began to wind it around his hand, motions smooth and practiced.
"So do you-? I mean, you must work out."
Normally it would make Alex very pleased to hear that someone looked at him and assumed he worked out, but he knew that Day was just fishing.
He sighed. "Yeah. But… but I'm a black belt in karate and I think that's really the answer you're looking for. Isn't it."
A pause, then, "It is." Day continued to wrap his hand. A few more moments and he had finished and produced a roll of tape from his handy dandy emergency kit.
"There you go," he smoothed a piece of tape over the bandage and let Alex's hand go. "Should hold you to the end of the day."
Alex flexed his hand. Day had done a professional job. "Thanks."
"Any time. Ideally, you should reapply the pain-relieving cream two or three times throughout the day. Maybe during lunch?"
"I think I'll probably just wait until I get back home."
"Are you…? I mean, are you sure? I could help with the rewrapping, if you want."
"Do we even have the same lunch period?"
"We do," Day said easily. "I just sit on the other side of the cafeteria with my friends while you and Tom sit nearer to the back entrance."
"...You know where I sit in the cafeteria?"
"Sure I do. So if you want, we could meet up during lunch and I could help you with the bandages?"
Alex flexed his hand again. In merely an hour it would be throbbing. He considered, then, "Okay. Do you want to meet in Mrs. Martin's classroom? She'll be having her lunch then too, so it should be empty."
"Sounds like a plan."
Day stowed away his emergency kit and then leaned back in his chair. "You know… I don't mind patching you up."
Alex raised a brow.
"I'm just saying… It's not a problem. You're a good patient."
"You're not too bad yourself, doc."
Day grinned. "Thanks. But I'm serious- you're no trouble, Alex. If you ever need any help bandaging yourself up, outside of school too, I mean, you have my number."
"Yeah…"
"Seriously. I mean it, okay? You're- I mean, I've already told you this, but- I like you, you know? You're a good guy."
Alex opened up his mouth, but his words, whatever they were going to be, caught in his throat. He didn't know quite how to explain to Day the absolute falsity of that statement. A good guy. God. Day had no idea what he was talking about.
"You really don't know anything about me," Alex said finally. "I'm not exactly sure you have the authority to make that assessment."
"So tell me."
"What?"
"Tell me about you. We've got some time before class begins. I know you love Harry Potter and your favourite movie is Raiders of the Lost Ark. I know your favourite ice cream flavour is chocolate and you think that custard is absolutely foul. Tell me more."
Alex stared at him, eyes wide. He couldn't believe that Day remembered those things. It had come out that evening they had walked together after class, and yeah okay, Alex remembered that Day's favourite movie was Pacific Rim and he loved the Game of Thrones series and he'd give his life for a strawberry waffle cone, but Alex had a crush on Day, and he'd been trained since birth to retain even slips of information.
"What do you want to know?" he asked, dazed.
"What do your parents do?"
And okay yeah, he'd walked right into that one. Day had already proven five times over that he was a little too observant, too curious for his own good. He sighed.
Emotional vulnerability was something that had been forcibly bled from his body, siphoned away into a dark chasm of space, never to be touched again. He'd hollowed, over the years, into something of numbness and emptiness, and after Jack's death, he'd thought he'd stay that way for good- just some lifeless, soulless thing, drifting through life.
And then Tom had sauntered into that dark chasm and returned with good humour and a soft story for Alex about how much he'd missed him, and everything had changed. Not at once. Not right away. But slowly, gradually, throughout the months, Alex was finding out how to become a person again- and he owed it to Tom to keep fucking trying. He just hoped Day wouldn't think he was some sort of freak.
"My parents died when I was younger. I'm currently being fostered." It was the best way to explain his situation.
Day sucked in a sharp inhale of breath and stared at him, wide-eyed. "Oh."
"It's okay," he cut in, before Day started with the platitudes. "It was a long time ago."
And it was okay. His parents' deaths really weren't the ones he was stressed about.
"Okay," Day sounded hesitant, and his eyes were still wide and cautious, liked he'd stumbled upon some dangerous animal. "Can I, um, can I ask about the whole situation? Or is that something you'd prefer not to talk about?"
"It's… I don't necessarily mind talking about it, but it's… it's kind of a complicated situation so maybe we can save it for another time?"
Day agreed easily, "Of course. Whatever you want."
"What about you?" He asked, desperate to move on. "You said you lived with your mum?"
"Yeah. My parents divorced when I was 7. I live with my mother but I spend summers with my dad."
"... When you were 7? So, um, did your mother remarry?" He cocked his head. "You said your youngest sister was three."
Day's brows raised. He looked somewhat impressed. "Didn't expect you to catch that one. Sierra is actually adopted."
"Really?"
"Yeah. She's technically my cousin. My aunt died in childbirth so we took Sierra in. My mum adopted her immediately and… yeah. Another sister."
"Oh wow. Plus the dog- full house."
"And the gerbil."
"Gerbil?"
"It's Robin's," Day groaned, leaned back in his chair dramatically. "Thing's a nightmare, I'm serious. Makes these weird squeaking noises all night long and Robin can't hear them but they keep me up more nights than not."
His lips quirked at the thought of Day laying in bed, pillow over his head, groaning at the ceiling.
"That sounds like a trial."
"You have no idea. You'll see when you come over this Friday."
And oh. Oh yeah. Their literature group was meeting at Day's house in two days.
"I'm excited to meet your dog. I've always wanted a pet but, I've uh… never had the opportunity."
Day absorbed that with a nod, no doubt assuming he meant due to being in foster care. But it was really due to the fact that he and Ian traveled just too much, and when they finally settled down a bit more permanently, Ian was gone so often, it would have been unfair to saddle a temporary babysitter with the upkeep of an animal as well as a child.
"Well, if you want to come over a little earlier than everyone else, we can spend some time playing with her? We can walk her to the park. If you want."
Alex couldn't help the delighted smile that stole over his face. "I would love that!"
Day beamed back. "Great! I'll text everyone the address this evening. You could come like an hour early?"
"That sounds awesome. But do you need to ask your mother…?"
"Nah. She's always happy to have my friends over."
And a small fist of warmth blossomed in his chest like a flower because Day had just called him a friend.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. In fact-" He paused to flick Alex an assessing look, and then continued casually. "In fact, just last Saturday I had Kelly over to hang out and my mum was just pleased to have someone in the house who appreciated her apple crumb cake."
Oh. The flower in his chest wilted somewhat.
"Most people find it a bit difficult to remain close with their exes." He was proud that he managed to have it come out more as a curious statement of indifference, rather than the burning curiosity it truly was.
"Yeah, it was hard at first- but Kelly has a new boyfriend now. Andrew Nelson. Brown hair, very blue eyes. They're rather besotted with each other. Very close," he stressed.
"So you've both- er- moved on then. Or- I mean, have you?"
"I have," Day asserted clearly. "Which is why we've remained such good friends."
"Makes sense, I suppose."
Day drummed his fingers across the table and then asked very casually, "So what about you then? I heard Amanda Delacroix asked you out last month, but you turned her down."
"She's a very nice girl," he allowed. "But I really didn't like her like that."
"Yeah? Any particular reason why?"
"Not really, just… didn't think we'd match up. We're very different people."
Day absorbed that with a nod, "And has there been anyone else? In your life romantically, I mean. Like a girlfriend? Or a- um-" he faltered. "Or like anyone else…?" He trailed off and Alex pinned him with a sharp look.
So that had definitely been an awkward question. Day was sitting there nonchalantly but his fingers were tapping a staccato rhythm against the tabletop and was he-? Yes- he was chewing on the inside of his lip.
Huh.
"Well," he said slowly, giving himself time to think. "I was… close… with a friend of mine a few years ago. Sabina. And, we didn't date or anything, but, you know, it may have been heading there." He hesitated, and Day gave him a curious look.
"But…?"
He sighed. "But my living situation was even more complicated back then, and things happened and her family took me in to live with them."
"Well damn," Day winced. "Awkward."
"Extremely. For a few months she was like my adopted sister, and if things had continued it would have been so so weird."
"I can see why that might be a relationship deterrent. But-" he hesitated and then pressed on, "But now that you're not living with her, do you think you guys will try again?"
And Day still had that restrained neutrality plastered across his face like paper mache, but… his fingers were tapping again.
He swallowed. Once upon a time, he had thought that he could read people. That he could scan a person's body language and understand in it more analysis than most would. But that had been before his own godfather had tried to murder him. Before the adults in his life had lied to him, about his parents, and his safety, and it had been long before he'd learned that there was very little about himself that he could trust.
He took a deep breath. He couldn't trust in himself. But he was willing to put his faith in Tom.
"No. I don't think so. Sabina's a great friend and all, but there's a lot of loaded history there. And-" he pressed a thumb against the first knuckle on his hand and ground it in. "-and I'm not so sure how I feel about girls anymore."
Day's fingers stilled.
"Oh?" He asked, careful neutrality still in place. The air around them felt charged.
"Mm. I've recently realized maybe I should be focusing my attention… elsewhere."
In the silence that followed he realized that his heart was pounding wildly in his chest and his palms were sweaty.
"Alex," Day said softly, eyes glinting with an emotion he couldn't quite place. It looked suspiciously like satisfaction. "Are you saying you think you might like boys?"
"Well. I'm pretty sure, actually."
He attempted a smile at his companion, who ran his tongue over his bottom lip and stared back, that glint in his eyes burning brighter.
"Interesting," Day said quietly, almost to himself, and then, louder, before Alex could comment. "You know, it's totally cool that you like guys. Definitely no judgement from me."
It was only when he relaxed that he realized how tense he'd been. He let out low exhale. He hadn't actually thought that Day would give him any problems, but it surprised him how anxious he'd been to tell him."Yeah?" He bit his lip and then, thinking about Tom's first response, ventured, "Are you surprised?"
Day tilted his head and looked at him, obviously thinking that question over. "Not so much," he said finally, and Alex glowered.
"Tom wasn't surprised either."
It kind of stung. Hiding things was literally his entire life now, and all around him people were guessing his secrets.
"Tom seems like the type of person to be surprised by very little."
That was honestly an understatement
Day smiled at him for a moment, and then as Alex watched, the expression on his face intensified, and his smile dropped into a softer quirk of the lips.
"Alex," he began, "thank you for trusting me with this, and I want to let you know that I'll keep it close to my chest. If you want. I know people can be arseholes about this kind of thing sometimes. In fact, I want to tell you that I actually-"
He was interrupted by a scurry of footsteps and a moment later a blond head popped around a bookshelf.
"Hey," said Dima hopefully. "Is this a good time?"
Alex stared at him, thrown off-kilter by his sudden appearance, before recovering himself and waving a hand at the empty chair across from him. "Sure, you want to sit down? This is Day. Day, this is Dima, Kelli's younger brother. Er- and I mean Kelli with an 'i', not, uh, your Kelly. Obviously."
"Obviously." Day watched Dima carefully as the younger boy flopped down into the chair and beamed at them both. "Nice to meet you, Dima."
And then he flashed Dima his very white teeth, and Dima promptly turned bright red.
"O-oh, it's n-nice to meet you too." His beaming smile turned bashful.
Alex's brows shot up. Huh. Maybe there was some truth to those rumors about Dima's sexuality after all. He shut those thoughts down almost immediately. That was Dima's business, his secret. Whether it was true or not, it wasn't his place to pry.
Glancing at Day, he wondered whether he had even noticed Dima's reaction. It would be rather difficult not to- except he gave no acknowledgment in that direction, still smiling, looking relaxed. A prickle of unease coursed through his body. He forced his attention back to Dima.
"How'd you know I was in here?"
"Oh, I actually came here to return a book, but Mrs. B at the front desk remembered we're friends from when you tutored me here, and she mentioned seeing you come in." Dima blatantly shot him a meaningful look, "I still want to talk to you."
Alex darted a quick glance to Day, and found him looking at Dima, head cocked. He swallowed a sigh. Too curious for his own good.
"How about you give me a call tonight?"
"Okay. But, um, I got a new phone and I don't have your number anymore." He wiggled in his seat for a moment and then produced a cellphone from one of his pockets. "Would you mind-?"
Alex reached for the phone and Dima promptly choked on his own spit. "Alex!" He squeaked.
He drew his hand back immediately. Oh right. He shoved down his sleeve hurriedly from where it had been bunched around his elbow, internally groaning at Dima's wide-eyed look. Reaching for cell phones had done him in once again.
"Alex- you- oh my god! I'm so sorry!"
"Dima, don't."
"But this is my fault, if I had just-"
"Don't." He repeated firmly. "I make my own decisions in life, okay? You didn't ask me for anything. I chose my actions. On my own."
"I- but-"
"Dima I'm serious." Day was watching them and by the look on his face, even more puzzle pieces were clicking together in his mind, so Alex went the rote path of foreign language secrecy, ignoring as best he could the way Day practically jolted in his seat at his first words and gaped at him, jaw dropped.
"Like I said, you're my friend, right? I helped you because I wanted to and that's not on you."
"But you're hurt," Dima still looked horrified and guilty, pale face drawn tight. "That's not okay at all."
"Well Andre and his friend's actions aren't okay either."
Dima bit his lip and looked for a moment like he was going to protest more- but then his shoulders slumped and he puffed out a soft breath. He smiled hesitantly up at Alex. "Спасибо большое, Саша."
Alex ruffled his head. "Пожалуйста, Дима. Now hand over your phone."
Day was still staring at him in shock and he raised an eyebrow, even as he tapped in his phone number. Day flushed for the second time that morning.
"Sorry. I just- you speak Russian?"
He smirked. "Amongst other things."
Day huffed quietly and shook his head. "You really are just one surprise after the next, aren't you?"
And he didn't sound upset- more… pleased? So Alex just smirked again, handing Dima back his phone.
"Well, I'd love to stay here and surprise you some more, Webster, but I think it's time for class,"
"Another time then." Day stretched his long legs under the table, brushing past Alex's knees- he didn't seem to notice the contact. Then he stood, scooping up his bag.
Dima and Alex stood with him and after Alex had carefully pulled back on his jacket, the three of them made their way out of the library.
"I'll call you tonight," Dima promised Alex as they stepped out into the hallway. "And it was very nice meeting you Day!"
"Nice to meet you too."
Dima smiled at them both and turned to leave-
-and stopped abruptly. The blood drained from his face and Alex heard his breath hitch in his throat.
Alex tracked his eyes to the other end of the hallway to where Len Abrams was standing, hand clenching spasmodically around the strap of his bookbag, staring back. He had a deep purple smudge of broken blood vessels around his right eye, and a look of anger twisting his mouth. Dima made a soft wordless noise of panic in the back of his throat.
Alex's eyes hardened and all emotions bled off of his face. He made direct eye contact with Len and then raised his arm and placed a deliberate hand on Dima's shoulder.
Even across the hallway he could see Len suck in a harsh jolt of air. His face turned an odd chalky colour and then faster than they could blink, he spun on his heel and disappeared around the corner.
Dima released a soft gasp of relief and Alex leaned down until his nose brushed the curls of Dima's hair. He spoke into his ear lowly, "If he approaches you, you come to me immediately."
He got a vigorous nod in return, and, satisfied that Dima was being truthful, nudged him off. "Go on. I'll talk to you tonight."
He left, although not before lunging into Alex's stomach and giving him one of his bone-crushing hugs.
"You know, I think I know more about you than you'd expect, Alex," Day commented beside him quietly as they moved outside.
Alex cut his eyes to him and let a sardonic curl tug his lips. "And probably less than you would expect."
He let his eyes wander the pavilion, and spotted a familiar dark head head of hair locking his bike into a bike rack. He raised a hand, calling out to his friend.
Tom looked up, saw him and Day, and broke into such a wide and beaming grin it looked like it may have hurt.
"Alex Rider!" He hollered, rushing over. "You tiny Terminator! I've been looking for you!"
"I'm taller than you," he pointed out, and Tom waved a hand.
"Still doesn't mean you're tall. Were you two hanging out?"
"Yeah. Dima dropped by for a bit."
"Aww."
"He seems nice," Day said. "He said you tutored him? In what subject?"
"Maths."
"Alex is very good at maths," Tom said loftily. "And also chemistry and history."
"And languages, apparently."
Tom grinned. "You break out the ol' Russian with Dima then? Alex, you old sport." He turned to Day. "He also speaks, like, five other languages, just so you know."
Day's brows shot up and Alex sighed and scowled at Tom, though he was unable to keep his fondness off his face. "Quit it."
If he'd known that Tom was going to try and practically auction him off by his skills, like some sort of medieval bride, he wouldn't have called him over.
Tom just laughed and Alex sighed again. "You're a hassle."
Day was grinning at the two of them when he clapped Tom on the shoulder and then gave Alex a light touch on his. "Tom, I'll see you fourth block. Alex, I'll see you at lunch…?"
He nodded, ignoring the way Tom's blue eyes widened like he'd just been told he was adopted. "Definitely."
"Lovely."
And then Day was gone, leaving Alex with Tom, who reached out and clutched fervently at Alex's sleeve.
"Am I dreaming?" He asked, dazed. "Is this what an opium daze feels like?"
"You really are a hassle," Alex said, but he was grinning, and his face felt warm, and he said, "I'll walk you to class- I have a lot to tell you."
A/N: Chapter 5! I don't know if anyone noticed, but I changed a few pieces of information. Nothing big- just that now Alex's bruises are on the left hand and not the right, and everyone is meeting up at Day's house on Friday, not Saturday. I'll go back and change those bits in the previous chapters as well!
Thank you so much for such nice reviews, they're largely what helped me focus on writing this next chapter!
I'm glad you guys like Tom and Alex's friendship, and I'm going to try to keep this balanced between Alex and Day stuff and Alex and Tom stuff because I love Tom :') Also, thank you Op-fan98 for pointing out Alex's decline downward because yes he's definitely straying into bad places with his thoughts and it'll probably get a little worse! Glad it's been noticed!
I'm also so happy people liked Alex's meetup with Jerry's friends because I felt a little iffy about how I wrote it. Lilybud, reading your review gave me a great idea actually and gave me a new path to follow with this story, so definitely thank you for that lol! :) So I guess the answer to your question is now 'maybe' ;)