The next morning Tom woke up to the sound of his alarm, per usual. He carried out his typical routine of laying in bed to prepare himself before finally getting up to shower. He didn't typically shower every day and he wasn't sure why he started now, but the showers soothed him, making him wonder why he didn't start before. The warm water ran over his freckled body, the warm water feeling strange against his fresh piercing. He ran his fingers through his wet hair before running a soap bar over his skin. He took a deep breath of the humid air before exhaling. He enjoyed the water a while longer before finally turning off the shower head and stepping out onto the towel he had placed down earlier. He took his bath towel off the rack and dried his hair, wincing when his newest piercing got lightly tugged accidentally and he went down to dry his face gently, then down his body.
He stared at himself in the mirror, taking in his details and how his new piercing fit his face. It had been less than a day but he couldn't imagine himself without it, like it had always been there. He had to pull myself away from the mirror to get dressed. Sometimes he felt as if his reflection wasn't his own and he'd analyze the person in front of him for hours, trying to recognize him. He pulled on a black shirt with a skull and black ripped jeans, his checkered boxers pulled just a bit higher than his pants so the print was visible without him sagging; he always thought sagged pants looked weird.
He left the bathroom and continued his morning routine, getting coffee and scrolling on his phone before slipping on his shoes to head out the door when his mother called. The car ride was typical, quiet. The radio faintly played music that Tom didn't pay attention to. He instead looked out the window, gazing at the cloudy sky and the threats of rain. When the car pulled up to the curb he got out without saying a word and walked to homeroom with his backpack over his shoulders, scrolling on his phone.
He sat down in his usual seat, finding that Tord was already there eating a muffin. When the emo sat down the Norsk turned to face him and his expression immediately lit up.
He pointed to Tom's eyebrow and quickly swallowed the bite he had been chewing. "New jewelry on your face?" He posed it as a question even though the answer was obvious.
"Yeah, I did it last night, I needed something new," Tom responded plainly, going to scroll on his phone.
"Looks good," The taller boy said before he took another bite of his muffin. The Brit just rolled his eyes in response.
"I come over today?" Tord asked after he finished his muffin, wiping his mouth.
"Uh, no, I have.. plans," Tom said, not looking at The boy next to him and instead scrolling on his phone.
Soon Edd and Matt entered the room, the two playfully nudging each other like they typically did. They were still bickering when they sat down near the other two boys.
"Tom! Can you tell Matt he's-" he pauses as he sees Tom's face, an irritated scowl plastered over it. "You have a new piercing," Edd observed, "How much did that set you back?" He asked with a snicker.
"Nothing, did it myself," Tom said blatantly, looking back at his phone.
Edd just rolled his eyes. "You're gonna pierce a nerve one of these days. That's going to be your karma for being an asshole." The brunette teased earning a scoff from the shorter blonde.
"You're just saying that because I did a good job," he said with a sneer.
Matt chimes in, "Yeah! I think it looks good Tom." Matt had a dopey smile on his face, the one he usually had. Tom said nothing in response to his compliment because frankly, Matt's opinion didn't mean anything to him. He's surprised that the boy thought anything at all honestly.
The day continued the same as it did previously, Tord following him until they separated for 3rd period, reuniting at fourth, a painstaking lunch. 5th period had become noticeably less enjoyable for Tom since the Norsk made him feel like he wasn't as adequate as he previously thought, he developed the same period of 6th as well. He already didn't enjoy PE, but Tord made sure he hated it. The Brit could never keep up with the horn-haired boy, and every sport they played, he was superior. It rubbed him in the worst way possible and it was hard for the black-eyed boy to believe how talented he was, especially since he still asked Tom to open his locker, always forgetting to hit it so it would fly open. 7th period wasn't as bad as the others considering they were always busied with work, but he had to deal with a different kind of annoyance considering that instead of one boy, he had to deal with 3 boys who all seemed to be teamed up against him. It was infuriating. Getting home was a relief and he threw himself on his bed with a groan, realizing that this would be his new routine. He wasn't excited one bit, not at all.
He stared up at the ceiling before deciding to actually do something, and this time, he actually could will himself to get up. He turned on his PS4 and scrolled through his games, deciding to play Streetfighter. He played against the bots for a while until he grew bored, having beaten every level on World Tour addition. He decided to text the group chat he was in with Edd and Matt, asking them if they were free. Several minutes later Tom was sent a picture of Edd, Matt, and Tord huddled in for a picture walking down the road. He didn't respond and instead dropped his phone back onto the bed and decided to play Susan.
The boy plucked notes he remembered and tried out a couple of licks before deciding to play Sweater Weather by memory. He moved his fingers in a way that created a vibrato. He hadn't expected to sing but as the mellow continued, he couldn't stop himself.
"All I am, is a man
I want the world, in my hands.
I hate the beach, but I stand
In Califonia with my Toes in the sand."
He didn't sing often enough to know if he enjoyed it, he just knew that at that moment he couldn't stop himself.
For the rest of the week, Tom avoided the Norsk as much as he could, curtailing any attempts he made to come over to the emos' house. He made excuses that Matt and Edd knew weren't true because the boy never did anything. Sitting in his room staring at his walls was the ultimate pastime for him. Every day Tom grew more and more bitter of the foreign student, gritting his teeth as he watched him run track or play dodgeball. On several occasions, it became a standoff between him and Tord, Tom not getting out sooner by pure willpower and luck. He just wanted to prove that he could beat the taller boy at something. The Brit stood near the free throw line while Tord was running to get a dodgeball, smirking at the boy on the other team. Everyone else had been hit and stood on the line, out. The way they moved, it seemed more like a Western dual. The Brit gripped the ball tighter as he saw Tord pick up a yellow foam dodgeball. He should have taken the shot while the boy was running with his back turned but he missed the opportunity. Tom's face turned to a scowl as he saw the norsk run up to the half-court line and threw the ball which Tom dodged. The throw was sloppy compared to his past ones as if he was doing badly on purpose. Tom didn't pick up on that however and instead decided it meant he was tired so while Tord was going back to get another ball the emo ran up and threw his, hoping to catch him off guard. He heard the whistle blow and for a split second he thought he had won the game but Tord was standing there with a smirk, holding the ball he had just thrown. Tom let out a defeated groan, face palming, and wincing as he accidentally pushed against his fresh eyebrow piercing.
Tord laughed victoriously, "You never be good like me, Thomas!" he teased. It Took everything for Tom not to yell "I Know! I know that! Stop reminding me I suck at everything I do! Stop it! I know I suck!" instead he just bit his tongue and walked away, defeated. Every day his chest ached more when he saw the horn-hair boy. Rage, envy, discomfort of all types, like a knife was stabbing into his stomach repeatedly. He was sick of it. In 7th period, English, Tord replayed his win to Edd and Matt who seemed amused the whole story.
"He thinks he won!" Tord snickered, "He did!"
Edd and Matt laughed imagining the scenario and elbowed each other as the blond sat fuming, ignoring the antics. Every time the Norsk said his name his stomach churned more, he wanted to hit him over the head with the desk but instead, he crossed his arms over the wood and laid his head down.
When he got home he was restless but nothing seemed appealing to him. He wanted to do something but couldn't think what. The emo gazed out his window for the first time in what felt like forever and decided to go on a walk, slipping his phone back in his pocket and walking downstairs to the front door, locking it on his way house and shoving the keys in his pocket. The September air nipped at his face as he walked. The leaves on trees had turned shades of yellow, orange, and brown, most of them fallen onto the sidewalk and grass. There was a park near his house which he hadn't been to in what felt like ages. He used to go there with Edd and Matt. In fact, the last time he was there he laughed so hard that water came out of his nose. He wasn't entirely sure what happened, what he said or did, but the three just weren't close anymore. Tom will always be an odd-one-out and he'd have to live with that, that's just his destiny.
He walked on the grass of the public park, making his way to a bench by a tall tree– the place he typically sat. He took a deep breath of the fresh air outside and saw his breath when he exhaled. The cool breeze felt heavenly against his skin even though he occasionally shivered a bit. He was a sucker for the cold. Tom was sure he could die from hypothermia and still enjoy every second of it. The branches from the trees rustled in the wind and faint conversations were carried over the park. "I should come out here more often," he thought, "It's nicer than I remember." Tom took another deep breath, enjoying the sounds of nature around him. For that moment it felt like nothing mattered, so he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
After several moments he heard faint music fill the park, some kind of rock band so quiet he couldn't make out the words of melody, just barely able to perceive the vibrations to know it was there and he could hear it. He opened his eyes to look around and saw a boy in a red hoodie and long black coat approaching him– Tord.
Tom let out a groan in response. He wasn't thrilled to see him at school, let alone out of school. The Norsk had chunky headphones around his neck, blasting music that the emo could now hear more clearly considering the boy was now in front of him. The taller bow was also holding a cigarette between his fingers and seemed to have forgotten his golden retriever attitude at home.
"You don't seem busy today," Tord commented before taking a hit from his cigarette and sitting down next to the Brit.
"I'm busy relaxing in nature, the hell are you here for?" Tom hissed, "Hiding the fact you smoke from your parents out here?"
Tord shook his head in response looking down, he seemed to struggle to find the words, at least in English. "My father.." He takes another moment, "He send me out to… uh… Smoke when he no want me there," He said absently, staring at the cigarette in his hand. He looked as if he wanted to say more but didn't want to struggle to find the words. Tom had never once thought about how the language barrier was just as hard for Tord as it was for him and felt his chest well with shame. There was a notable silence between them, Tom not wanting to push and make it seem like he cared, although deep down he might've, he just didn't take the time to ask himself that yet.
Tom broke the silence: "Got one for me too?" he asked, his toner lighter than it's possibly been the entire time he knew the boy. Tord held the cigarette in his mouth and dug through his pocket, pulling out a half-empty pack and a black lighter, offering them to the Brit. The emo accepted with a chuckle, "I never would have thought I'd be hitting a fag with you," He said softly, which caused the grey-eyed boy to raise a brow, prompting Tom to clarify: "Hitting a fag means smoking a cigarette, it's slang," He paused, "I'll have to teach you that soon." He finished, not even glancing at the Norsk as he took the cigarette in his mouth and shielded the end from the wind as he lit it, taking a good drag before blowing it out away from them.
"Damn this is nice, I can't remember the last time I had a cigarette," Tom said before taking another hit Tord mimicking the action on his already half-smoked stick of tobacco.
"You're talking less than usual," Tom comments.
"You talking more than usual," Tord quips, leaving the blond shocked for a moment before he laughs.
"I suppose we're both out of our element," He wasn't sure why he was being so sociable at the moment, there was just something inside him driving him to talk. Maybe it was to fill the silence, or because he felt like Tord was listening. He didn't know, so instead he took another drag from the cigarette, holding it for a second before exhaling slowly, feeling the buzz of nicotine going to his head as his vision became colorful and static.
"Do you come to this park often?" Tom asked, hating the silence between them.
Tord shrugged, "Found it first day," the boy said plainly, looking down at his nearly finished cigarette and taking a long drag, finishing it in one hit before walking to put it out on the metal lid of a trashcan and throwing it away. Tord sat back down and looked over to the blond Brit, "You? Do come here often?" He asked, positioning his elbow on the top of the backrest and resting his head on the knuckles of his fist.
Tom took a hit of his cigarette that was a little more than half burnt to avoid a nervous smile, "No, I used to. I guess something just told me to come here today. I didn't want to sit in my room any longer."
As the pair fell silent again, Tom could hear the music coming from Tord's headphones.
"What are you listening to?" Tom asked, not sure why he was putting in the effort to talk to the new student.
"Norwegian 'rock' as you put it," Tord responded, all of his answers blatant and lacking emotion as if he was answering questions to a quiz. There was a pause, "You want listen?" he was already taking the headphones off from around his neck and Tom quickly took a hit, finishing the cigarette in a long drag like Tord had previously done, walking up to the same trashcan to put it out and throw it away. When he returned, Tord handed him the headphones and the emo put them on as he sat down. There was a 2 and 4 drum beat and a guitar strumming chords from the g major key. The melody was accompanied by a girl singing in a language he didn't understand– Norwegian. As he listened the key switched to A major and the emo couldn't help but tap his foot.
"It's good, just can't understand a thing she's saying," Tom says as he hands the headphones back.
Tord put the headphones back around his neck, "She feel trapped, that what she sing," he explained, earning a nod in response.
Tom looked down at his checkered shoes and the grass that surrounded them. The grass was a deep green. The Norsk couldn't help but catch a glance. The Brit was quite beautiful when his face wasn't scrunched in a scowl and his voice was calming when he wasn't yelling. His black eyes were fixated on the grounds, although he leaned back against the bench. Tord could see the slight bruise forming around his new eyebrow piercing. From this side he could see his right year, two helix, and double lobes, his first lobe also stretched to 2g. Tord quickly turned his head away as Tom looked up and turned to the Norsk.
"Do you... wanna go back to my place?" He asked softly. Tord only nodded and stood up before Tom even had the chance to. The Brit lifted himself up off the bench and began walking to his house, the taller boy following behind him. Soon the pair made it to the sidewalk and kept walking.
"You.. live near me," Tord said in his thick accent. Tom let out a hum of acknowledgment and pondered for a moment.
"Does your dad kick you out often?" He asked, not turning to face the boy he was talking to. Tord nodded instinctively before realizing his non-verbal answer wasn't seen.
"Yes, most days," he said, looking down at the pavement beneath him. The blonde didn't say anything in response, he just softly bit the inside of his cheek, his braces softly pricking the skin.
After a while, they finally arrived at Tom's house and the Brit opened the door for Tord, walking in after him and closing it. Tord walked around the familiar house before standing in the kitchen.
"Won't yours mother be mad?" He asked, beginning to pull off his long black coat.
"Nah, I may have been overreacting when I said she's upset," Tom replied as he opened the fridge, retrieving a bottle of water before turning to the ginger-brunette. "Want some water?" Tord nodded so the Brit threw him a bottle before getting another and closing the door. The taller boy screwed off the lid to the water bottle and took a drink, washing out the taste of cigarettes in his mouth. The black-eyed boy copied the action, taking a good drink of water before screwing the lid back on and leading the Norsk to his room.
As the pair sat down on the emo's bed, he remembered the notebook he used to help teach the Norsk English, and how he had compulsively written pages of lessons in it the first day he came over, but instead, he pushed the thought away, getting his ps4 controller and pressing the home button to turn it on. As they sat in silence, Tord analyzed the room, noting the cornflower-blue walls that were decorated with posters and banners. He noted a checkered flag along one of the walls near a mirror and a tapestry behind his bed. There was a shelf located in the far corner of his room next to a window that had 4 books scattered on the shelf along with several figurines and a stuffed bear with an X for eyes. The fur was worn down and was visibly "well-loved" when Tom was a kid, considering it had several patches with thinner fur where it was seemingly sewn back together.
"Do you wanna watch a movie? Play video games?" Tord's face lit up when Tom suggested that they should play video games and nodded.
"Ja, video game," He said in his thick accent.
Tom threw him a spare controller and began scrolling through the ones he had. The Brit had expected Tord to want to play something competitive like StreetFighter, or Brawlhalla, but instead, he jumped and pointed as he passed by Minecraft and said that's the one he wanted to play in his broken English. Tom shrugged and selected the game and waited as it started up. He made a new world and pondered what to name it before handing the controller to Tord who quickly typed "Min Kjære og Jeg" into the same slot. The blonde flashed him a confused look, "What does that mean?"
Tord shrugged, "Red and Blue" He lied and turned back to the screen. Tom rolled his eyes, accepting the answer, and turned on coordinates before starting up the world and pushing the button combo on Tords controller so he could join. Tom began collecting wood while Tord immediately bolted, Looking for somewhere to make a house.
"Hey! Don't leave too far," Tom said but Tord didn't respond, he only snickered as he continued running around.
The pair had spawned on an oak forest island with a tall mountain, and by the look of it, that's where Tord wanted to make the house. He climbed up the mountain and quickly began flattening it out enough for a decent-sized house, placing dirt blocks in a way that made the land look natural. The emo continued collecting wood and made a crafting table, making an axe to collect even more. Once he had almost 3 stacks he finally joined the taller boy on the mountain, taking the crafting table with him. Tom had begun building a sloppy base before the Norsk insisted that he give him the wood for him to build. The Brit rolled his eyes and dropped him the stack. The horn-haired boy then told Tom to get cobblestone. "Ordering me around, damn," he teased, but the blonde went to retrieve some anyway after making a pickaxe.
He went to the foot of the mountain and made a 1 wide, 2 tall hole and broke away dirt until he reached stone, switching to his pickaxe and began collecting as much stone as a single wooden pickaxe could get him. By the time it broke, it was a little later than mid-day and he decided to take a detour to get food, killing several cows and sheep, trying to harvest wool. By the time he was heading up the mountain, he only had 4 blocks of wool but he couldn't find any more sheep so he gave up. When he reached the top he saw a beautiful Oak house, made with a mix of logs, planks, and stripped logs. The only thing it was missing was the floor. Tom dropped the stone that he had and the Norsk quickly went to work, filling in the floor. He had just enough to make another floor and used wood to make stairs and doors. While Tord built, Tom made a singular bed and wandered to try and find more wool, the adventure proving fruitless. Before they knew it night came.
Tom was still wandering in the forest, having not made it back in time. His muscles were tense as he continued forward, hating every second of this. He fought off mobs with his fists and bit his lip to stop himself from jumping in surprise. Tord noticed this and left the house trying to find the Brit who'd he'd call a friend, with a stone sword. He wandered around in the forest, effortlessly fighting off zombies and skeletons before finally finding the blonde who had created a congregation of zombies following him. The Norsk let out a chuckle and a sigh before running in to slay the monsters with crit attacks, and once Tom was safe, he led him home. Tord quickly closed the door behind them, "Close call huh?" Tom said nervously, still trying to catch his breath. He wasn't the biggest fan of Minecraft for that very reason.
"Ja," Tord responded with a smile.
They then waited for the night to be over and took that time to talk. They talked,
And talked,
And talked.
And for the first time that day, there were no awkward pauses or spaces of silence between them. They conversed well after the day came and left the house, teasing each other, making jokes, and genuinely enjoying each other's company, for the first time ever.