BAZ
I'm still not looking at Snow, but I can see him out of my peripherals dragging his blanket over his lap. Well, at least now I know he doesn't want me looking at him. I can feel the blood from the rats I drained earlier rushing to my face. I grab my pillow from where Snow left it and cover my face again. If only I was alive, then I could suffocate myself. I could still burn myself to death. I am a Pitch after all. Fire magic is our family specialty.
I can hear Snow breathing. I can feel him staring. I want to shrink until I don't exist.
"So who's the bloke?"
Wait what?
I bolt up and snap to look at him. And there he is with that shit-eating grin of his.
"You're not... grossed out?" I ask hesitantly.
"Grossed out? By what? You being gay? I've got no problem with Trixie, I don't see why it'd be a problem for you." He's still grinning at me.
"Because I'm your roommate?" I ask. "Because you've spent the last six years sharing a room with a homosexual? Sleeping in nothing but your pants?"
Now it's Snow's turn to blush. "Okay maybe if I had known you were into blokes I would have invested in a pair of pyjama bottoms."
I smile at him. He's okay with it. With the whole me-being-gay thing. He's not interested in me, but he's not repulsed by me either. And that's good.
I look away again, the rat blood rushing in my cheeks once more. "You'll laugh if I tell you who."
"I promise I won't," he says. He's looking at me with those big blue eyes of his. Ugh.
"It's Dylan," I mumble, hoping he doesn't hear me.
"Who?" Snow asks.
"Dylan! I'm in love with Dylan Carlson!" I shout, hurling my pillow at Snow. When I look at him he's gaping.
"Baz, you know he doesn't have a..." Simon trails off.
"Of course, Wellbelove told you, didn't she?" Now it's my turn to gape.
"Wait, how do you know?" Snow looks taken aback. "And you're gay. You just said so. So wouldn't that make Dylan off the table for you?"
I bury my face in my hands. "Snow, just because he wasn't born a male doesn't make him any less a boy. I like boys, and he happens to be just my type of boy."
Snow ponders this for a bit. "So what's your type?"
I laugh. "Are we really discussing this?"
"Well, yeah, I guess so," Snow laughs with me.
"Okay, fine," I resign. "I like guys who are shorter than me-"
"That's all guys."
"Do you want to know my type or not?" I ask, still laughing. I'm smiling like a teenage schoolgirl. I can't believe I'm laying in bed telling the love of my life what my type is.
Simon doesn't answer. I look over at him and he's staring at me expectantly.
"Alright!" I say. "I like guys who are shorter than me, with, um..." I can't well just say 'messy bronze blond hair and blue eyes with moles everywhere'. I am well and truely fucked.
"You like smart guys, don't you?" Snow offers. Oh, if only he knew. "Dylan's brilliant with magic, and excellent in all of our classes. He's a perfect match for you."
I want to tell him how wrong he is, but I can't stop staring at him. At his bare shoulders. His Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. What a show. I want to reach out and touch him. I keep my hands to myself.
