CHAPTER 6

Hello!

I was going through this fic to see if I wanted to add anything and literally found this chapter that I wrote, like, a good year ago. I think the intent was to post it but for some reason I never did… whoops. Anyway, here it is now, approximately a year later! Happy reading Btw, there is an instance of very slight language in this chapter, just as a warning.

SPOT

Dinner was… an event. It's not like Spot entirely enjoyed it, but it's not like he entirely disliked it, either. If he had to pick a word, he would describe it as… pleasurable.

The people there weren't the problem. There was nothing wrong with them, of course. They were all nice enough. It was just… all very new.

The next new thing was the walk back to the dorms. It was, by far, the loudest walk Spot had ever experienced in his seventeen years of what could be considered less of a life and more of a noisy blur of skirmishes.

So far, no one had really tried to engage him in conversation, except for David. Spot had brushed him off right away. During dinner, he had tried to make it clear that he wasn't feeling the need to interact with anyone, and he had to make sure that his new roommate had gotten the hint. He stared up at the streetlamps, weirdly enjoying the slight strain it gave his eyes.

"Hey," someone said from behind him. Spot ignored it. Maybe they weren't talking to him.

"Hey, you," the voice said again. Spot sighed heavily, not caring much if the voice picked up on it and turned around. It was the blond kid from earlier. Apparently, he hadn't picked up on the hint.

"What?" Spot asked.

The blond pointed. "Uh… Seàn?"

Spot huffed. "Spot."

"Spot, right," the blond said, sounding too eager. He fell into step with Spot, and Spot almost wished he hadn't. It felt like he was being predictable, and Spot didn't enjoy the feeling.

He didn't want to, but he looked back at the boy next to him. Well, more like looked up. Fortunately, although the kid was pretty tall, it wasn't too much – Spot had never been the tallest in any given room, but at times he'd almost hurt his neck talking to certain people. The blond boy was looking everywhere and nowhere at once, eyes flitting to the streetlamps, then the floor, then Spot again, then his sleeve, then the same thing over again. Spot almost found it intriguing.

"So," Spot said, startling the blond kid he couldn't remember the name of. Honestly, it surprised even him that he decided to talk. "What do you want, Blondie?"

Blondie's eyes widened, almost imperceptibly, but just enough for Spot to tell. "It's – it's Race."

Oh, so that's what it was. Race – Racetrack, right. Okay. Spot almost cared. "Okay, Blondie."

Blondie's – or Race's – eyes widened just a bit more. Spot raised an eyebrow. "You got a problem with it, Blondie?"

"What? No, no, none," Race spoke quickly, turning red – from embarrassment, Spot assumed, which didn't satisfy him as much as he felt it should've. His eyes searched Spot's face, and Spot figured Race's eyes moved a lot. Whether he did it from analysis, nervousness, or habit, Spot couldn't tell. After he was done with… whatever that was, his eyes flicked down to his own sleeve, then back up, then to his sleeve again. Spot followed his gaze. From what he could see, there was a patch on his arm.

"That a nicotine patch or somethin'?" Spot asked. He regretted it, only a little. It could have easily been a band-aid.

"Huh?" Race glanced down at the patch like to hadn't been there before. "Oh, yeah, that. Yep."

"Hm." They continued walking. Spot could overhear conversations from all around him. It was all so loud. It should've hurt, really. But… it didn't.

"Race," Spot heard a second voice call. Him and Race looked over in unison as a tan, freckled girl jogged up to him.

"Cinnamon?" Race asked. "What is it?"

Another weird name? What is this, Big Hero 6? Spot thought.

"Is there something wrong?" Race asked.

"I was just having some questions about the dorms and stuff?" Cinnamon, who hadn't seemed to notice Spot, glanced over at him. "I can ask later, if you'd like," she said, gesturing to Spot.

"I don't mind," Race said. I do, Spot thought, but he didn't say anything. Sure, it would get Blondie over here to stop talking to him, but on the other hand, did he really want two people yammering in his ear?

"Nah, it's okay," Cinnamon said, moving her hand in a "never mind" motion. "It would probably make sense to ask later. It might take a while."

"'Kay, if you insist, love," Race said, ruffling the girl's hair. She swatted at his hand, laughing, before chirping a little 'talk to you later' and returning to talk to the kid with the crutch (right, he was conveniently named Crutchie) and a girl with red hair and round glasses.

Spot looked at her, then back at Race, who was now smiling. "Girlfriend?"

Race's smile semi-vanished out of surprise. "Girlfr- oh, no. Not girlfriend."

"You called her love."

"Yeah, I…" Race scratched the back of his neck, seeming to not look at Spot almost on purpose. "I call everyone that."

Spot raised an eyebrow. "You haven't called me that." And tell me why you just said that? he thought to himself, internally facepalming. There's being purposefully salty, and then there's just flat out stupidity. At this point, Spot didn't know where on this spectrum this recent comment fell.

Race's mouth opened soundlessly for a half-second, then closed it again. "Do you want me to?"

"What? No, the hell?" Spot said, trying to mask his shock with… whatever he was trying to mask it with. Race looked down, bright red again. They walked in uncomfortable silence, Spot debating whether punching this kid would be worth it.

"So, uh, Spot," Race said, clearly trying to break the silence. He was less of a red and more of a pink now. "Is there any reason why you preferred to be called Spot over Seàn?"

Spot grumbled. "I'd prefer if you didn't bring up Seàn as a name."

Race nodded, exhaling. "Okay. But why? Spot, I mean."

Spot didn't answer.

"Is it because you can be hard to see sometimes?" Race asked.

What?

"You know – any shorter and you'd… fade out of existence, right?" Spot could almost hear the regret seep into the terrible joke. However, he didn't really care.

He-

He stopped walking. "Can you not?" He snapped.

Race stopped, clearly knowing that he had stepped too far. "Yeah, sorry. Sometimes it just slips out."

Spot turned away, walking again. "Asshole," he muttered.

Race didn't reply. He made that noise one makes when they're clearly thinking over what they just did in real time, then (for some reason) caught back up to Spot and kept walking, looking forward.

The rest of the walk, although just as generally noisy as it was before, seemed much quieter to Spot for some reason that he didn't understand. It felt like an hour before they reached the dormitories, and who knows, with the number of detours taken, it could just as well have taken that long. (One could believe these people couldn't care less about a curfew.)

"Well," Jack said, raising his voice so that it could be heard clearer over everyone else. "I'm going to head in. Crutchie, you coming?"

"I will, in a minute," Crutchie responded, sounding quieter than Jack with his normal-level voice. "I just want to finish a conversation."

"We shouldn't be too long," the bespectacled redhead from earlier added. Cinnamon, the girl from earlier, nodded from beside her.

"Alright, then, see you later," Jack said, pushing the hat Crutchie had on down over his eyes as he backed away. Crutchie let out a little yelp before laughing and pulling it back up, Cinnamon laughing as she mimed dusting him off.

After that, the crowd just stayed where they were, just talking, people slowly leaving to head back to their dorms. By the time the group had shrunk to two other people, Spot didn't know why he was still there. It's not like he was talking, or even looking for a conversation.

Smalls, a short girl who seemed cool enough, turned to leave without a goodbye, only lifting a hand in some semblance of a wave before turning away. Spot, who had been absorbed in his phone up till then, glanced over to the other person to see who was left.

Oh god.

Race seemed to have a similar reaction, letting out a drawn-out sigh. They both looked at each other for a minute, then both looked back down at their phones. Spot considered just turning around and leaving but didn't want to leave first. From what Spot could tell from the quick looks he snuck from over his phone (and the quick looks Race snuck back), Race felt somewhat the same.

They did this for ten minutes or so – Spot counted. Just as he felt that he would explode if he had to play another round of Geometry Dash, Race cleared his throat. Spot peeked from over his phone, trying not to seem like he was too bothered.

"Well, I'm calling it a night," he said casually. (Although Spot was usually good at seeing through facades, he couldn't tell whether this air was faked or not.) He turned, somewhat awkwardly, to leave. He gave a halfhearted wave "Later. Or, uh, whenever."

"Bye," Spot replied, looking up from his phone all the way once Race's back was entirely turned. Once the boy had vanished from sight, Spot considered staying where he was for a little while. He figured that, on any given night, he would have, but tonight he just felt too alone. It was weird.

A blast of warm air – warmer than outside, which should have been a little uncomfortable – hit his face when he opened the door to his room. David was sitting on his bed on his laptop, legs crossed and eyes squinted. Upon hearing the door open, he looked up.

"Oh hello, you're back," David smiled.

Spot let out a sharp hum and sat down on his bed, not bothering to cross his legs like his roommate was doing. "David."

"Please, call me Davey," Davey said.

"Like the pirate?"

Davey frowned. "Huh?"

Spot raised his eyebrows. "The pirate? Davy Jones? From the movie?"

After a moment, Davey's mouth went o-shaped. "Oh, right. Sorry, I literally forgot who he was for a second." He laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "But yeah, like the pirate."

Spot chuckled.

"You know, my brother loves those movies," Davey said.

"You have a brother?"

"Yeah, he's just turned ten about a month ago." Davey smiled. Spot decided that he liked Davey's smile. It felt nice, if that made sense.

"I don't have any siblings," Spot said.

"Oh?"

"Yep."

The two talked for a few minutes more, which was a few minutes more than Spot had expected, then they both more or less turned in for the night.

As usual, Spot spent what was probably an hour laying on his side, watching the dust particles float around in front of him. While he was there, he thought, which wasn't unusual. However, his thoughts were less cynical than usual, revolving around how, in retrospect, the night wasn't entirely terrible. In fact, despite the out-of-place-ness that he'd felt more or less the entire time, he'd even describe it as okay. He felt himself smile. Then, he suppressed it out of habit. Then, after a minute, he let himself smile again.

After that, it didn't take him much long before drifting off. He'd probably wake up with his arm asleep, but that was okay. At least he could rely on that staying the same.