Chapter 3: Forget Regret

Collins jumped back, startled. He looked down at his feet.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled.

Angel looked a little disappointed, and began to put everything back in the first Aid kit. "I didn't mind," he told his classmate, and folded the towel on the bed.

Collins, still not looking up, scoffed. "Yeah," he laughed, "because you're gay."

Angel raised an eyebrow. "And you're not?" he laughed a little to himself, trying to counter his new friend's sharp words.

"I…I don't know," he said. Quickly, he jumped up, and moved towards the door. "I have to get home," he said, but Angel grabbed his arm.

"Honey, I can't let you go back out there at night alone," he said. The man just stood there, looking down at him.

"So I should…stay here or something?" he asked, hoping for both a yes and a no as a response.

"Yeah. It's Saturday, so you can just go home tomorrow morning."

"Alright," Collins agreed, "but I have to call home."

Angel motioned to a phone sitting on the floor by the end of the bed. He walked out of the room to gather extra blankets and pillows for his guest, while leaving him to privacy.

"Mom? It's Tom," he said, nervous of what to expect, "I'm staying the night at a friend's…No, no, I ran into him on the way home…Yeah, I'll be back tomorrow…Alright, goodnight. I love you."

Just as he hung up, his host came in, holding a pile of bedding. He helped his classmate set up a small bed area on the floor next to his own bed.

"I'm really tired," Collins said, after a moment of standing there awkwardly.

"Yeah," Angel agreed, "it's getting late."

The nervous guest climbed into his make-shift bed, before tearing off his shirt (AU: I have NO idea what guys wear to bed, so this is my guess). Angel was beginning to follow suit, when a ring stopped him.

The phone at the end of the bed rang again. He picked it up gingerly, and greeted the caller.

"Oh, hey Mimi. Listen I can't talk now, I have company…I'll just call you back later, alright?...I'll talk to you later…Goodnight, Mimi." He hung up and phone, and apologized. "Mimi," he explained, "my best friend since forever."

"Marquez?" Collins asked, sitting up. Angel nodded. "Isn't she a freshman?"

"Yeah," he answered, flicking off the light. He climbed into his own bed, and greeted the silence. However, it was soon broken.

"Please don't tell anyone," Collins said quietly.

"Don't tell anyone one what?" Angel asked, confused. About Mimi? He thought.

"That I think I'm gay," came the response. There was a pause, as the host tried to think of what to say, but Collins soon continued. "I don't know," he confided, "I mean, I've never been with another guy. I've dated girls and stuff, but I've never really felt attracted to them like I know I should. But I've never been attracted to any guys, either," he paused again, considereing weather or not to go on. "That is, until now," he added.

Angel was glad that the light was off, so he wouldn't have to hide his broad grin. He laid still and content for a moment, before responding.

"Don't worry," he promised, "I won't tell a soul." Besides Mimi, he added in his head. "But don't freak about it. There's no rush to figure yourself out."

His lasts words made a huge impact on his guest, who couldn't help but blurt, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Angel told him. But that wasn't enough for the anarchist.

"No, really, thank you. For everything. For helping me outside, for getting me cleaned up, for letting me stay the night," he told his new friend. "For letting me confide in you," he added.

"You're more than welcome," Angel said, glad that he could help, "Goodnight, Tom Collins."

"Goodnight," Collins mumbles sleepily, "Angel."