Summary: Early on in his med school years, Derek discovers his friend knows more than he could have guessed.
It's, to his surprise, not an issue.
It's the end of the day and it sure feels like so. Your chest hurts and, if you don't get back to your place real soon, you may forget what oxygen tastes like. Plus, if you want to study for the next exams and not flunk them like you've almost done before (and you don't want to ask someone else for the answers to them again, it's about time you become a good student and don't just try (and almost fail) with your dodgy attention span and flunky memory).
All you've got to do is get out of this school, go to the bus stop, maybe try liberating your lungs for a little bit far from indiscreet eyes and survive the trip to your place. You can take the elevator to the fifth floor if it's not broken (which, let's be fair, with his luck, it's possible it's magically broken just to annoy you, it wouldn't be the first time and would certainly not be the last). It'll all be fine.
"Hey, Derek, wait for me!"
Tyler's voice immediately makes you stop in your tracks as your classmate runs towards you, tapping on your shoulder with an energic hand (and perhaps bruising it from how frail you are and how strong he is).
"You need something?" You ask startled, breathless.
"Nah, I just wanted to walk home together. Is that fine with you? I think we live in the same dorm."
"Oh, huh… That's fine by me,"
As usual, you've replied before thinking about whether or not it was a good idea in the first place to respond what you've just told people. How many hours has it been, by now? More than eight, most likely. You've lost track of time because of how busy the day was. It doesn't help that you're, as always, terrible at remembering hours.
At first, Tyler seems more than happy about it, until his expression changes for a more doubtful one. He rubs his chin.
"Hey, pal, are you sure you're up to it?" Has Tyler ever spoken seriously to you before? That tone feels almost foreign. "You sound a little weird."
Okay, time to quickly calculate something. You can't say no to your one friend in this wretched place and refusing now would only raise suspicion from him, so you can't exactly back down. Still, that doesn't make the situation any better: your chest is screaming for you to bring it some well-deserved relief or else your ribcage could break. How could you possibly synchronize both sides of the issue when everything seems to tear them further and further away from each other?
Hey, you do have a hoodie in your bag, don't you? It's a little too warm in here for you to be wearing it inside, but if you're walking home or waiting at the bus stop with Tyler, then it should be fine, right? Plus, it should be just baggy enough not to reveal anything suspicious. You can only pray it doesn't, at least, now. God, Derek, when will you stop putting yourself in that kind of ridiculous situations?
"Mind if I go to the bathroom first?" You ask trying to feign complete ignorance. Truth be told, you don't need to use it for any "traditional" reason, so your voice must sound somewhat fake. You've always been a terrible, godawful liar; that won't be changing today.
"Oh, yeah, sure, go for it. I'll be waiting here," Tyler replies, not without some doubt in his tone.
"Thanks, I'll be right back."
That's not entirely true. You're used to quickly changing in and out, especially in very narrow spaces like the men's bathroom; but that doesn't mean you won't be taking some time compared to a simple trip there. At least, and much to your fortune, there are a couple empty stalls and you rush into one of them before someone else can steal your spot.
As always, your brain somewhat blanks out when you have to give your lungs their full capacity to pull air in and out of his body. You stare at the ceiling, the crude tags on the walls or even the toilet you're pretending to be using at the moment; just avoid the ground as, to your chagrin and upmost frustration, there's something in the way you really shouldn't see. Or, if you really like the kind of dirty floor, you can stare at your glasses disgracefully lying there (just almost as much as you look pathetic at the moment) until you're finished putting yourself back together.
You quickly put them back on your nose and slips into your hoodie, incredibly annoyed by the slight bump that shouldn't be there. To seal the deal and hide your dirty secrets, you flush the toilet down (sorry for the useless water consumption, by the way) and wash your hands. Hey, that may cleanse yourself from the lie you've thrown in your friend's way.
Sure enough, Tyler's still here when you come back, waving at you with a smile. You join back together and make your way out of the building, mutually venting about whatever crap the day has put the both of you through. You try focusing on their conversation so you can ignore how horrible it feels to be out in the open without your breast plate to protect yourself.
"Say, Derek," Tyler suddenly asks as you've gone past most of the people. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you for some time by now."
The serious tone is back. Could he bring the both of you back to light-hearted jokes and terrible puns, please?
"What is it?"
"You're always out of breath by the end of the day. Why's that?"
Shit. That's one hell of an armour-piercing question.
"Ah…" You instinctively cross your arms over your chest, as if you weren't busted already. "It's that, huh…"
You're struggling to come up with a credible half-truth. You're not asthmatic, you're not sick with a bronchitis, huh… Huh… Ah, maybe that, if you could focus on your lessons for longer than thirty seconds, you'd know more ailments that could cause chronic dyspnoea!
"Actually, there's something else," Tyler continues. "Little things here and there."
There are shivers going down yiur spine and cold sweats coursing down your temples.
"It's that… What kind of things are we talking about here? I know I look scrawny, but I promise you, I do eat enough, I'm not—"
Tyler mischievously smiles at you, eyes almost closed from how much he's squinting at you with delightful amusement.
"Let's just say you're as bad at lying as you are at hiding stuff before people come to your place."
Oh fuck. You're busted. You're so busted, busted to hell and back, busted from Jupiter. Goodbye credibility, goodbye stealth comfort.
"If I was you, I wouldn't bind for more than eight hours. Makes your chest sore."
"W-what are you…"
"But y'know that already, don't you?"
"How did you—"
Tyler chuckles, seemingly more amused than disgusted of him at anything. God, that guy's gotten you played and fiddled with all along!
"As I said, Derek, you're terrible at hiding stuff in your place. All I had to do is connecting the dots."
"And you don't…"
"I don't what?"
"Don't… mind, or anything like that?"
His expression darkens tremendously. Maybe you do like feeling pranked. In comparison to whatever that stare is for, at least, you sure do appreciate yourself a good prank.
"Dude, do you even listen to yourself? In what world would I 'mind' that? It's your business, your pain, not mine. I'm just trying to look out for you because, not gonna lie, you're kind of a mess."
You don't quite know what do answer. The mood whiplash may have exhausted you out of what was left of your mental energy for the day. You do find something to eventually ask back as an answer.
"Can you just not tell anyone else about it? I don't want that to become the talk of the class."
Tyler reprises his signature smile. Phew.
"I gotcha. I'll bring the secret to my tomb, chief."
You almost get dizzy from how suddenly the stress you've accumulated until now leaves your mind and body. Truly, your chest must have lost half of its mass in one fell swoop. It now feels comfortable to put your hands inside your pockets and hope everyone can ignore your insecurities. That's progress, alright.
"Good. Thanks a lot, Tyler."
"You're welcome! Friends are meant to keep each other's secrets anyway."
Now, all you have to do is believe the one person that keeps coming to your aid whenever you're swamped by the mighty papers you all face. That shouldn't be too difficult, even for you, right?
"You're not wrong."
You walk up to the bus stop in peace, resuming your conversation on med school as the day comes to a happy close.