Chapter 3

"You look terrible," Adam said. Ronan grimaced at him and dropped into his chair. He wasn't wrong, but he was a little late to point it out; the last couple days Ronan's appearance was getting steadily worse. Adam was pretty sure he wasn't sleeping, and only semi-sure whether he had showered – he didn't stink, but he didn't look particularly well kempt. "Are you even sleeping?"

"Do you really care, or are you making the worst small talk ever?" Ronan said, closing his eyes.

Adam bit his tongue, the truth fighting to get free. Instead, he said, "Do you ever try to be anything else?"

"You mean a lie?"

"I mean not an asshole."

Ronan smirked. "So you mean lie."

Adam exhaled in frustration. "Whatever, Lynch." He sat straighter in his chair, waiting for anybody else to step in the door. They were both a bit early; Adam was always early, and Ronan – well, Ronan was only really interested – if you could even call it that – in one thing at school, and that was Latin, AKA their very first period of the day. It was not even a minute when Adam decided to ask what he was thinking anyway, consequences be damned: "Why do you look like you haven't been sleeping?"

"Because I haven't been sleeping," Ronan replied easily, just as the bell rang. The students began pouring in, and Adam was left to wonder what the hell was going on.

Tuesdays Adam didn't share any other classes with Ronan, and he had a couple shifts at the garage after school, so he didn't have any opportunities to inquire further that day. Wednesday, however, Adam caught Ronan before they had even entered the school. He sized him quickly, seeing that he fared no better than Monday or Tuesday, and said: "That's it. Whatever's going on, get over it. If you want me to help you with this stupid yearbook thing – if you want me to talk Gansey into helping us with this stupid yearbook thing – get your act together. And do it before Gansey's back tomorrow afternoon. You got it?"

Ronan's gaze met his, but Adam couldn't read it. "Do you understand me, Ronan, yes or no?"

"Yes, Parrish, I'll be a good obedient boy," Ronan replied dryly, his eyes wandering.

Adam stepped back, letting him pass by him; Ronan bumped into him with his shoulder, possibly intending to hurt him. If he did, anyway, he did a bad job of it – it passed so fast and so lightly, it might as well have not happened at all.

Adam had work that afternoon, so he headed there after school. By the end of his shift it was dark outside, and he was so tired he would have probably collapsed in his car, if it weren't very inadvisable. (Blue was not the only person who could be sensible.) It seemed as though it would take hours for him to get him, but by the time he did, he couldn't remember any of the drive.

He was oh so tired, but the moment he saw Ronan Lynch sitting on his steps, he was suddenly wide awake. Ronan was not something one should be anything less than fully aware of; every part of him screamed danger.

"What are you doing here?" Adam said, pushing past him to unlock the door of the apartment. Briefly, he remembered the incident that caused him to need to get this tiny room in the first place; but that memory was full of confusing feelings and blurry memories of fists, and he pushed it aside.

The two of them stepped in together before Ronan had even finished saying: "Hello to you too." But Adam was not feeling particularly polite. (He was feeling something else entirely, but he didn't have a name for it yet.) He did not respond. Instead, he dropped his bags on the floor unceremoniously and fell on his back, the bed cushioning his fall. Of course, the mattress was about as soft as the floorboards, but this is what he had – this is what he had, and it was his.

It was suddenly very hard to keep his eyes anywhere but on Ronan.

"You're very talkative today," Ronan commented.

"The last time we talked," Adam said, "it ended on a sour note. Forgive me if I'd rather sleep than fight."

"You asked what – " Ronan made a choking sound, as if it was physically difficult for him to say whatever it was he was thinking. "You asked what my problem was."

"Yes, I did," Adam said slowly, not seeing where this was going. "Again, I would really – "

"No, just please – please," Ronan said, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I just – I need to explain."

"Are you drunk?"

"No, I'm not drunk, shut up," Ronan said. He really didn't seem to be drunk, but none of this was like him. "I'm trying to tell you something, and you're – you're so fucking annoying. You're making this even more difficult then it already is."

Adam stayed silent this time.

"I'm – shit. Okay. I'm fucking gay, alright?"

A beat.

"Adam?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have anything to say to that?"

Adam shrugged. "I already knew."

"Wait, what?"

"I already knew. It was pretty obvious."

Ronan blinked at him, shocked into silence.

"But thanks for trusting me, I guess."

"Does Gansey know?"

Adam let out a breathy laugh. "I haven't really discussed it with him. He wouldn't really get it."

Ronan folded his arms. "And you would?"

Adam shrugged noncommittally. He didn't particularly want to discuss his sexuality at the moment. What he did want was to sleep, and he said as much.

Ronan raised his hands and took a step back. "Fine, whatever. You can fucking go to sleep. I'll just go back to Monmouth."

Adam fully intended to let him go, really. But then he thought of Ronan, sleeping there all alone, every night, and –

"You can stay here, if you want."

"Yeah?" Ronan said, raising an eyebrow. "Where am I gonna sleep?"

He wasn't going to fight him about this. Thank God. "On the floor. I'll give you my extra blanket."

Ronan considered it for a second, then nodded once.

Well. This was going to be something.