Tom woke up to his alarm ringing and lackadaisically reached for his phone to turn it off. The boy groaned as he sat up and stretched before laying back down, having to mentally prepare himself for the day. He wasn't excited about anything it had to offer; a math test, a new project in English, his dismissive friends, and– he groaned, Tord. After a drawn-out moment, Tom finally sits up and contemplates for a moment before deciding to pick out an outfit for the day and walk to the bathroom for a shower.
He lingered in the shower longer than he should have, enjoying the warm water flowing down his pale, sparsely freckled skin. It was the only time he felt warmed, like every shower the icy layer around his soul began to melt away, and he could actually enjoy something for once. Tom washed his hair with a cheap 2-in-1 that smelled of cedarwood and sage, before carefully washing his piercings individually.
The boy stepped out of the shower and took a black towel off the rack to dry his hair and face before patting dry his upper body and wrapping the towel around his waist. Tom took a small, blue hand towel from the counter and wiped the condensation off the mirror to take a good look at himself. There's this phenomenon where when you have piercings for a while you get used to them, and feel like you have barely any: also known as a type of dysmorphia. This is what Tom was experiencing. He pinched at the skin at his eyebrow, trying to imagine himself with another piercing, before repeating the same behavior but with the bridge of his nose. He could do this for hours, imagining himself with different piercings to the point where he got tempted to do them himself, but he had half an hour before he had to leave so instead he got dressed and left the bathroom, getting a cup of coffee from the kitchen. He took a long sip of his coffee and ran his fingers through his still-damp hair.
He made his way back to his room and sat on his bed, putting his coffee on his bedside table before getting a pair of socks from his closet and pulling them on; another checkered pair. He continued to drink his coffee on his bed, scrolling through Instagram on his phone, occasionally snickering at a particularly funny reel. He kept scrolling until his mom yelled for them to leave, prompting him to quickly drink the last of his coffee and pull on his checkered vans before rushing downstairs with his backpack, leaving the cup in the sink.
He climbed into the passenger side and fastened his seat belt, going back to his phone once he was settled. After several moments his mom snapped her fingers in front of him to get Tom's attention.
"What?" Tom asked in a half-irritated voice, unable to hide the tone in his voice.
"I heard from Edd's Mom yesterday," she said plainly. "You know you're supposed to ask when people come over." Tom's mom continues to look at the road, not even bothering to catch a chance from Tom.
"What do you mean? Edd didn't come over?" Tom said. He couldn't tell if he was trying to lie or not, his sentence just came out that way even though he knew that she was talking about Tord.
His mom let out a breath, "No I'm talking about that little Norwegian boy, whatever his name is." She waved her hand dismissively before going back to grip the wheel and continue: "Apparently Edd gave him your address for, what? Studying or something?" The light brunette woman seemed to have trouble recalling the details as if she didn't really pay attention to Edd's mom, just getting enough information to get on Tom's ass about it.
Tom crossed his arms and looked out the window, "I don't know why you were talking to Edd's mom anyway," he muttered, not facing his mom.
Tom's mom scoffs, "I talk to Edd's and Matt's mom every day. I've known them just as long as you've known the boys," she said, seeming to grow irritated as if she had a train of thought she wanted to spill out but instead held onto. "What are you doing tutoring that foreign boy anyway? You're barely passing your classes?"
Tom rolled his eyes, "Yeah, because I let Edd and Matt cheat off me and then the teacher thinks I'm the one that cheated off them," he thought to himself but bit his tongue. "I thought you wanted me to get more friends or something, isn't that what you said yesterday?" Tom looked at his mom for the first time the entire drive.
"No, I was telling you to not be a sour puss." she hissed plainly which caused the conversation to halt, neither one of them wanting to contribute to the exchange so the rest of the drive was silent.
Once the car pulled up to the curb Tom got out without saying another word, throwing his backpack over his shoulder without bothering to put it on properly and shut the car door. He could hear the sound of his mom driving away behind him as he walked into the school gates. He made his way to his homeroom and sat down, picking at the peeling sealant on the plywood desk. Slowly, more kids began pouring into the classroom, and then the pair: Edd and Matt, who were snickering to each other before they caught a glance of Tom and walked over.
"How was tutoring the newbie?" Edd said with a sneer causing Tom to groan.
"Yeah! Tell us!" Matt chimed in.
"Fine, you really wanna know?" Tom clenched his fist, there was an ache in his chest which assumed was rage but honestly was none-the-wiser. "That dickhead pretended to not know Algebra just to waste my time!" Tom hissed, the two taller boys glancing behind him before looking back down at him with furrowed brows. "What? Cat got your tongue now?" Tom said as a snide remark which prompted Matt to point behind the shorter boy. When he turned he saw the Norsk standing right behind him, but he didn't seem all that bothered, he Instead smiled: "Yeah, I fake maths, but you tell that you help with English?" Tord said in a heavy accent, almost slurring some of the words but his pronunciation was better than the day before. Tom could tell that Tord had practiced once he had gone home.
Matt cupped his own face with a look of awe while Edd only smiled, "You're helping him learn English?" Matt exclaimed while Tom looked away with a scowl.
Edd elbowed Tom playfully, "And here I thought you were just some asshole. This is out of character for you Tom," the dark brunette teased.
Tom pushed Edd away lightly, the sour look on his pierced face unchanging, "Shut up guys, I was just pissed I couldn't understand the hell he was saying," he pointed at Tord behind him with his thumb.
Tord only smiled, "I thinks Stupid Tom is-" he pauses, as if trying to remember a word, "Hvordan sier du i hemmelighet… hidden nice?"
This prompted Edd and Matt to laugh, "Yeah Tom may be all spikes and chains but secretly he's a softy, huh?" Edd said looking at Matt who returned the laughter.
Tom was unamused, "Don't you ever say that about me again," he deadpanned which caused Tord to join in the laughter, snickering.
The trio continued to tease Tom until the bell rang, the artificial sound over the intercom sounding like a blessing sent from heaven. The snickering and remarks finally died down as the teacher approached the podium. The emo let out a sigh of relief, thankful his torment was over.
It wasn't over for long, however. For the rest of the day during passing period or any class they shared together the shortest boy– Tom would get an earful. The emo grits his teeth in response to his friend's remarks and worst of all was lunch. He was confined to a lunch table with his friends and the now foreign student, listening to them yap about nonsense as Tom tried to tune them out.
"Say something in Norwegian!" Matt exclaimed, intrigued by the idea of a foreign language.
Tord thought for a moment before responding: "Ansiktet ditt er veldig firkantet."
Matt sat there in entertained shock, "Wow!" He exclaimed, "I have no clue what you just said!"
Tord snickered at the response before glancing over at Tom with a snide smirk, "Han er en tispe i fornektelse. Jeg vedder på at jeg kan få ham til å bli forelsket i meg." Tord snickered while gesturing to the emo, knowing they didn't understand a single word he said, especially Tom who just gave him a confused glare.
"What the hell did you say about me?" Tom hissed, side-eyeing Tord who only snickered. "No seriously! What the hell did you say?!" He exclaimed, clearly becoming more heated than he should have.
Tord shrugged, unbothered by the shorter boys' outburst. "I said you good teacher," which earned a scoff from the black-eyed boy.
"Yeah right.." he crossed his arms, practically pouting with a pissed-off look on his face.
Lunch continued with the 3 boys talking, Tom not participating unless it was to interject but even then it was far and few between. When the lunch bell rang, the boys packed up and went in the direction of their classes, the Norsk of course following Tom. When the teacher requested that the students separate into pairs, Tord, of course, immediately went up to Tom before the Brit could even think about partnering with someone else. The emo only rolled his eyes and let the ginger-brunette sit next to him.
"I Didn't think you like.. Ro-bot-ics?" Tord said to the blonde boy next to him.
The teacher put a box on the desk with instructions, Prompting Tom to quickly look at the different components inside, thinking about how they'd fit together, "Yeah well, I guess I'm full of surprises huh?" The comment was meant to come off as sassy and dismissive but the Norsk couldn't find it any more true. Tom was an enigma and although everyone saw him as distant, Tord saw him as someone who just had a lot of walls and in a paradoxical way; used being mean as an alibi for being nice. The entire time he had helped the grey-eyed boy with English Tom was harsh, but that didn't change the nature of his actions. Tom was a nice person, whether he'd admit it or not.
Tord snickered, "Yes, you can be very surprising."
Tom didn't seem to appreciate that comment. He put down the part that he was holding to glare at the new student, "You've known me like, a day. Don't pretend you know me," He snarled, a scowl resting on his face as he went back to the project they had been assigned.
Tord decided to leave it at that and instead took the sheet of paper that listed instructions– the paper that Tom had dismissed and instead decided to jump right into it, confident he didn't need instructions. Tord looked at the pictures on the diagram and began picking out pieces that matched it, mentally mapping out how the pieces of plastic clicked together and where the wires plugged into each other. Slowly, Tord began piecing the project together while Tom was growing frustrated at himself. The two were supposed to be working together, but Tom stayed independent instead, or at least tried to. After several minutes Tom put the components on the table and groaned out in anger before swiping the instructions from his partner and examining them, trying to see where he was going wrong. The ginger-brunette watched him do this, holding back a chuckle as he watched the emo grow irritated. He saw the way his nose scrunched and how over the course of the school day his septum had gone sideways. As Tom read his lips became slightly parted, the horseshoes in his snake bites grabbing Tords attention as he admired the way his piercings complemented his braces. The Brit's face turned red with anger, his freckles persevering through the redness. Tord couldn't deny that the boy was breathtaking, and he had fun pushing his buttons. He wanted to see who the shorter boy really was, beneath his aggressive persona and insults. The Norsk could see there was someone else under it all.
Suddenly Tom tossed the instructions to the side as he went back to fumbling with the pieces he had been previously working with. Tord wanted to give him a chance to work it out on his own but eventually grew antsy and reached over to help. "Here," He pointed to a small slot on the back of a black plastic component with a smooth surface, then turned over the grey piece Tom was holding in his other and pointed to a peg that was folded down on the underside; completely invisible to those who didn't take their time. The brit unfolded the peg on the grey piece before plugging it into the black slot and let out a hum of understanding.
Tord smiled: "You like robotics, but not very good," He teased making the black-eyed boy's face flush with anger.
"Hey! You just got lucky!" He exclaimed perhaps a bit louder than he should have in the class that was full of low conversating. A few people turned their heads but paid no mind, understanding that it was Tom. He was considered a short fuse by classmates so this didn't surprise any of them.
"Yes, yes, I am lucky," Tord rolled his eyes, his words slurring from his accent.
After that Tord and Tom began to work more as partners than two people who just happened to be working on the same project. In sooth, Tom grew a bit envious of the Norsk from him shifting to lead the pair. He never fumbled the pieces and the way he assembled the components, it was like he had done it a million times. He easily clicked the wires into place and before the two boys knew it, they had a little robot on their desk. It was red, black, and grey, similar to a transformer action figure. Tord took the remote that laid on the desk near him and handed it to Tom who gladly accepted it and began inputting commands. Something fluttered in the Norsks's chest and shoulders. He and Tom had made that together, and he liked the idea of that for some odd reason but quickly pushed the thought away as the teacher came up to check their progress, giving them a satisfied nod before writing something on a clipboard and walking to the next table. Tord knew what he was feeling but wanted to justify it as something else, not wanting to accept that he could grow attached that quickly. He'd call it anything else, curiosity, fascination, limerence, admiration. Anything except a crush. He thought himself better than that, but something made him feel drawn to the Emo boy next to him, like fate had him move away from Norway to meet him, although he knew that was just silly.
The bell rang and the two left with their backpacks over their shoulders, making their way to the gym. Tom walked into the locker room first without a second thought. In-fact, it seemed as if he didn't have a thought at all, like he was walking himself through motions until it was over. He walked to the back corner where his locker was and inputted the padlock to open it, pulling out a white t-shirt and a pair of blue jogging shorts. Tord stalled by the door for a moment before entering. The coach had assigned him a locker the day he arrived but the combination lockers were different than the ones from Norway. The boy set down his backpack and stood staring at his locker for a moment, he could see the faint reflection of his horn-curled hair in the steel. He opened his backpack to find a small paper slip that had his combination on it and hesitantly wandered the room to find his friend, trying to tune out the other shirtless boys in just their boxers changing. He found the pierced boy in the midst of taking off his shirt, jumping when he noticed the norsk there.
"How long you been fucking standing there?" He yelped.
Tord didn't respond to his question directly and instead handed him the slip of paper with numbers, asking him to unlock it. Tom let out a heavy sigh and pulled on his grey gym shirt before following the taller boy to his locker and quickly twisting the dial to the numbers corresponding to the note. When the locker didn't open immediately he gave it a small hit and it swung open. He gave the note back to Tord who turned to the now open locker and retrieved his own shirt and shorts.
After several minutes a whistle blew and everyone left the locker room, boys lining up on one side while girls lined up on another. In straight lines, they walked their way out of the building to the track where they were told to run four laps. Everyone lined up at the line. A couple of boys behind Tom bickered about racing before getting in a good runner's position. The coach stalled, purposefully trying to catch everyone off guard when he blew the whistle. The group of kids began running. Tom wasn't exactly the fastest runner but he still put the effort in, letting out a tch sound as Tord passed him effortlessly making him want to run faster to catch up. He tried to balance his breathing as he ran, the cool September air feeling good against his warm skin. He let out heavy breaths as he finished the first lap. Even as he ran faster he was still a meter behind Tord, leaving him unaware of the boy trying to catch up. It wasn't until halfway into the third lap that Tom had to give up on trying to meet Tord's stamina and watched as the boy continued running, almost effortlessly around the track, leaving the blonde in the dust. Sweat dripped down the Brit's face, watching Tord grow further and further away from him. An ache swelled in his chest, a silent acknowledgment that he wasn't good enough. He continued running regardless, he only had one lap left. The pierced boy pushed those thoughts of being inadequate away, knowing they'd resurface later, and finished his lap, meeting up with Tord who stood off at the side.
"How–" Tom caught his breath, his hair sticking to his forehead, skin feeling damp. "How do you run so fast?" He gasped out, earning a modest shrug from the Norsk.
"Workout more intense in Norway," He said as if his talent wasn't a flex. Perhaps it wasn't, but it still rocked the emo to his core. First Robotics, now PE. He felt the need to outperform him at something, besides the English language which he was sure Tord would master eventually. His flush of rage was barely visible under his exhausted complexion and left to get a drink of water. As Tom wiped his mouth of the water he felt a hand playfully pat him on the back.
"Do not feel bad Tom," He smiled, the was a hint of pride in his voice, "Not everyone good like me." He snickered. This made Tom's blood boil like the boy was purposely trying to rile him up.
"Oh hell! Get the fuck off my Tord!" He hissed before realizing that him getting upset was the goal of his antics. Tom just rolled his eyes upon this discovery. He was used to this, that's how Edd and Matt treated him. He was "easy to get a reaction out of" they'd tell him, like that made him feel any better about the teasing. He began to fidget with one of his snakebites with his teeth as a self-soothing behavior. It was an action he tried to avoid because he had always feared his piercings getting stuck in his braces but at the moment he was too irritated to care.
Once everyone finished their laps the students went back inside to play dodgeball, which Tord was impeccable at as well. Tom gripped the foam ball so tightly he thought it might burst. The two were on opposite teams which only fed the Brit's hunger for "revenge" or whatever you'd call his bitter attitude. The boy dodged a well-thrown ball, trying to get the perfect angle to hit the horn-haired boy. He went back and forth for a while, feeling like he had never been so engaged in a game before. Once he was sure he had a good opening and Tord seemed distracted he threw the ball with all his might, prematurely celebrating only to open his black eyes and see that the Norsk had caught that unholy throw from Tom. Tom's eyes turned white from shock and anger and he walked over to the outline, waiting to get tagged back in. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears as he once again lost to the new kid who seemed to enjoy his efforts.
Once the game was over and the students were sent back to the locker rooms to change Tord was called aside by the coach. "Hey new kid, I saw you out there and I need you on my football team. You got the build, you have the talent, I need you out there on the field." the coach explained. Tord happily accepted the offer and was given a form that he put in his backpack once he got in the locker room. He tried to input his dial the way Tom did but it didn't open. As if on queue, Tom walked by, already redressed, and hit his locker, causing it to swing open. He didn't look as he did it, just walking past and out the door leaving Tord to change as the Brit left. After Tord changed he hurried to catch up to Tom who wore a resting bitch-face and stared straight forward. The pair were silent as they walked until Tord spoke up.
"They want me to football," He said, feeling proud of himself.
Tom just rolled his eyes, unimpressed, "I imagine." He stated frankly, clearly not in the mood for a conversation as agitation ate away at his bones.
The two walked into English, their final period, and sat down in the back where Edd and Matt were already sitting. The two Brits greeted Tord but not Tom, as if he wasn't there, and quickly sparked conversation. Tord shared about how he was recruited to play football and they congratulated him. Finally, Tom was included in the conversation.
"So, how's hanging out with this guy going?" Edd asks gesturing to Tord in a teasing tone.
Tom groaned in response, 'Oh bloody terrible! He–" The bell rang, and just like that he was cut short. At this point he just wanted the day to be over. He had never been so grateful that it was last period and he could finally go home after this final 50 minutes of hell. During the class, he had to endure the whispering and snickering of Edd and Tord, even small paper balls occasionally hitting him. He wanted to flip his desk right then and there but instead let his feelings brew inside of him, not even bothering to try to defuse them.
The class felt like it was dragging on forever, perhaps it always does when you're counting down the seconds until you get out. The bell ringing sounded heavenly to Tom, signaling that he could finally pack up and go home. Before he could get out of his seat Tord came up to him.
"You help with more English today?" He asked which prompted Tom to look away, not wanting to even come close to catching his gaze.
"Nah, i don't think so. My mom was pretty upset with me this morning about it," It wasn't a complete lie, his mom had been irritated but in reality, she wouldn't have cared. She's all bark, a hit or miss. She was just in a bad mood this morning for whatever reason and did what she always did; take it out on Tom.
Tord's face dropped from his smile, "Oh, again soon?" He asked which made the Brit shift away.
"Yeah.. I'll let you know.." he said, standing up from his seat and walking past Tord and out of the classroom.
When Tom got to the school gates his Mom was already there waiting for him so Tom got in the car and they drove off. Tom said nothing and stared out the window for the majority of the drive. He was dropped off at home and his mom headed off back to work. He walked through his front door and made his way to his room, setting down his backpack and throwing himself on the bed. Suddenly, his body ached, as if the force of which he threw himself was enough to break the bottle he had been keeping his emotions in. He let out a loud groan, daming himself for his incapability. He had a hard time finding reasons to be proud of himself when there was always someone who could do better than him. He rubbed his hands over his face, mindful of his piercings as his face turned red from fury. He sat up and kicked the air, the skin around his eyes beginning to ache as if he had to cry but fought against it, channeling his sadness into an unmatching rage. He wanted to smash something and watch it break into a million pieces. In this very moment, he wanted to be the cause of destruction, he wanted to punch Tord in his face, he wanted to– he just wanted to prove he could be good at something. Prove that he had some kind of worth outside of just existing as a person. He didn't care if it seemed materialistic, he just wanted to be viewed as capable for the first time in his life. He wanted his friends to be able to say he was good at doing something other than being an asshole. His feelings were going to swallow him whole at this point so he went to the bathroom to try and do something with them.
He looked at himself in the mirror, pinching the same skin he had pinched this morning around his eyebrow, and opened one of the bathroom drawers, digging for a while before finding a piercing needle and curved barbell jewelry with spikes on it. He had pierced himself before and right now he was too angry to really worry about messing up. He got a couple of paper towels and first washed the jewelry itself before pouring rubbing alcohol on a second paper towel and cleaning the area, then washing his hands with rubbing alcohol. After that he peeled the protective plastic off the needle and pinched his eyebrow, mentally marking where he wanted the placement. He positioned the needle and took a shaky breath in before breathing out, piercing it and using his anger as a force. Easily enough, the needle was through so he took the third paper towel and wiped away blood that dripped from his newest puncture hole. He then took off one of the spiked balls of his curved barbell and let part of it slip through the needle and then pulled the needle out of his eyebrow, the jewelry threading through with the help of the needle. He cleaned enough blood to be able to see what he was doing and then screwed the spike on, admiring the placement for cleaning up the blood on his face and on the counter before going into his room to rot, scrolling on Instagram reels.
When dinner rolled around he didn't even try to hide it, he just sat silently at the table and served himself food. Eventually, his mom finally decided to look up at her son and commented with a soft smile.
"You have a new hole."
"Yeah.."