chapter twenty-one - hug

chapter twenty-one — hug

FRESHMEN WERE AFRAID OF US. They milled around the hallways in tight packs, new backpacks barely broken in. There was almost always one at the center, the control tower giving off the formation signals, who looked smug and far too comfortable. Marco loved attacking them first, looming over them with his own smug grin of seniority until they cracked and the sardine school was dispersed.

I hadn't missed school at all. Not one bit. Not even a little. School could go fuck itself with a rusty corkscrew and then bury itself in a mound of burning shit. Fuck school. Fuck all this bullshit.

"Keke!"

I whipped around quick, feet stuttering when Lukas threw an arm around my shoulder. He looked far too happy, a wide grin plastered on his face and his backpack half-hitched onto his shoulder. Mine matched his, slouching over my arm sadly and gaping at the top where I'd been too lazy to zip it.

"Your backpack is unzipped," He fumbled with my straps, pulling at the zipper until it shut, "Got it"

"Thanks"

He smiled, the ugly fluorescent lights of the halls casting weird shadows across his face. Lukas stood out like a giant in the swarm of underclassmen and they paused to absorb the vibes he gave off as we went through the hallway. He was the one the lost newbies went to for directions, the one they weren't afraid to cry to when he found them alone in bathrooms during lunch. Fucking saint.

"Move"

A sophomore gazed up at me, looking more like an elementary school kid than a high schooler. He was on one of the sports teams, a varsity jacket engulfing him like he was a kid wearing his dad's suit. It didn't fit him and he would probably never fill it up until he was forty with a beer gut and watching television sports thinking of the mistakes he made.

I didn't have a jacket, couldn't afford it, but I had way more mistakes to mull over.

"Think you and your buddies could move over there? Thanks!" Lukas descended like an all-to-cheery guardian angel, coming in between the sophomore and me slowly.

The kid nodded, an unnatural flush building up his neck as he dragged his cronies to a corner. Lukas smiled at me so hard his eyes squinted shut and I rolled my eyes, unable to match his happiness to even a minute percentage.

"C'mon," I sighed, tugging at his belt loop gently.

He nodded, trailing behind me. A few people tried to talk to us, mainly seniors who thought I didn't have better things to do. Some of them went right over my head, asking Lukas about his summer and stuff. I probably know what Lukas did this summer better than he does. Lukas brushed them off easily, his smile dropping a bit whenever they'd prod at me.

"Elisabeth's in your first class, right?"

The hallways finally emptied, most people rushing off to find where their classes were. The cocky few that stayed would remain where they were until the last bell, insistent on seeming cool or some shit. I wasn't really sure what they got out of almost being late to class. I'd either go late, on time or not at all. Almost-late literally achieved nothing.

Idiots.

"I dunno," I shrugged loosely in Lukas' direction and he chuckled.

"Sports medicine, yeah? I think she's in it too"

I hummed, disinterested. My hands started to fidget with my straps, sliding the adjusting belt back and forth so the bag slid up and down my back like a faulty elevator.

"You go to the nurse yet?"

I nodded, looking over my shoulder as people started to enter the class. It was mainly other juniors, their eyes curiously looking over to where Lukas and I were. I wished they'd stop staring at us like aliens. Stop staring at Lukas. Most of them seemed to catch my brainwaves, their eyes widening when my gaze met theirs as they turned away hurriedly.

"Sorry, sorry," Lukas laughed nervously recapturing my attention, "I'm badgering"

I shook my head quickly.

"What class do you have now?" I squinted up at him, nose wrinkling at the shitty neon halo splayed out around his head. I liked it when the sun shone on his head more, it suited him better: fake lighting didn't.

"AP Literature," Lukas sighed, dragging the title out with a frown.

I made a face and he snickered.

"Yeah—"

The bell cut him off and I edged towards the door, shoving at his shoulders.

"You're gonna be late, dumbass"

Dumbass?

"Sorry—"

"—Bye, Keke!"

Lukas just laughed, waving me off as he started to jog through the small crowd of stragglers.

It just kinda slipped out.

Sorry.

I chewed at my lip a little, changing the expression as soon as I got inside. Dropping my bag on the seat closest to the door unceremoniously, I nodded at the teacher when he smiled at me. He was one of the girl's basketball coaches and helped out at our games a few times. He was alright: fairly chill like most gym teachers were.

"Oh," The girl next to my seat looked at me pointedly, "My friend's sitting there"

I sat down.

She kept shooting me nasty glares throughout attendance, nails tapping at her desk in what seemed to be a combination of frustration and anxiety. I didn't give enough shits to understand her and her plastic morse code.

A few soccer players were huddled in the corner of the room, one of them waving a lanky arm at me as I glanced in their direction. I nodded, mouth still set into a grim line. He motioned to an open seat over by them and I shrugged, not really wanting to sit there for two reasons: I was already perfectly comfortable where I was and I had no clue who he was.

"Sorry, I'm late" Elisabeth wooshed through the door like a tornado, giraffe legs knocking into my desk harshly as she slapped a pass down on the teacher's desk. It was wrinkled beyond recognition, the faded color a far shot from the standard main office pass.

He picked it up with a frown, "Ms. Schmitt—"

Elisabeth spotted me, mouth curving up as she tossed me a little wave. I sighed, barely returning it by wiggling the tips of my fingers and going back to pissing off my desk neighbor with my existence.

The teacher's face slacked, "Nevermind, go find a seat"

She nodded, sitting where the soccer dude had been motioned for me to move to. He didn't look too distraught, leaning over his seat to whisper something next to her as the teacher started to hand out curriculum sheets or something. Elisabeth ignored him.

She continued to ignore him when the teacher explained the curriculum.

And when the teacher made our first project groups she was still ignoring him.

Fucking great.

"Hey, Keke," Elisabeth had a shit-eating grin on her face like her ponytail was pulling her cheeks back too tight.

"Shut up, don't call me that"

She ignored me, nudging my desk-neighbor. They struck up a conversation and I briefly wondered if Elisabeth had been the friend the chick had been saving this seat for. Ha.

"—Lukas?"

I zoned back into their conversation, dropping my feet from where they were propped up in front of me.

Elisabeth huffed, unimpressed.

"What?" I scowled, scratching at my hands.

She rolled her eyes, "Lukas hugs you, right?"

I froze. What?

Did he tell? Do they know?

Lukas wouldn't tell.

Would he?

Of course, he wouldn't.

Fuck.

My eyes darted around the classroom nervously, but nobody seemed to have heard. The soccer players that had been partnered up were laughing obnoxiously and everyone else was wrapped up in their own conversations. Did they not hear, or do they just not care?

They don't care that we hugged?

The thoughts grew louder, clanging against my skull like church bells. They were too loud.

Of course, they don't care, you fucking idiot.

I cared, but they didn't.

Is that good? Bad?

"Don't panic, jeez," Elisabeth grabbed at my hand with hers before dropping it just as fast. The maneuver worked and I flushed before clearing my throat. Her hand felt like Lukas' with a few calluses and achingly cool to the touch. Her fingers were spindly though, nails long and lacquered. Lukas' fingers were a little shorter than mine, kinda chubby looking and decorated with various little nicks and burns from his baking experimentation. My hands weren't in the best shape either, but my callouses came from weathered plastic and gravel, not hours of kneading and car grease.

"Yeah, um," My foot kicked against the leg of her desk accidentally, "a few times"

She nodded before looking at her nameless friend emphatically, "See? Told you, my brother is a hugger"

The nameless friend nodded, surprised, and I found myself copying her motion. There were little strands of loose hair framing her face, and they swayed a little as she breathed out harshly.

"He's a hugger?" I echoed. My head was starting to hurt, it was too early for all this thinking and feeling crap. My eyebrows were screwed up tight, mouth set into a scowl that Elisabeth mimicked when she rolled her eyes.

Elisabeth sighed, "Always has been. He loves hugs, even when he was a baby—"

—I like hugs too—

"—He's so weird"

My mouth quirked up a little, "Yeah, he is"

"That doesn't sound like sports medicine," The gym teacher sighed in our direction, not bothering to look up from his laptop. He probably had more pressing things to figure out, like plays and rookie analysis for the girl's basketball team.

Maybe I can help.

I mulled the idea over.

Fuck that.

Elisabeth's friend giggled nervously when I caught her eye. I didn't drop my gaze until she did, awkwardly flushed as she picked through a ratty notebook. It, like mine, didn't look new. I rarely got new notebooks and I usually just ripped the few pages out from the ones I'd used the year before. I wasn't big on notes anyway.

"You friends with Lukas?" She attempted small talk, nails no longer tapping annoyingly. She regretted the question immediately, her face betraying any emotion she felt in the least. It was a dumb question— everyone knew that Lukas and I were friends.

I started tapping mine, but let my fingertips pad against the table instead, my nails nowhere near scary enough to serve as drumsticks.

"Yeah," I swallowed, "He's my best friend"

She nodded hastily, her eyebrows warping and mouth popping open with a cheery emotion that left her flushed. Nameless stared at me with a poorly-hidden smile. What am I a fucking puppy? She stopped as soon as I shot her a hard, questioning look.

Was being best friends weird?

I looked around, the kid from the soccer team catching my eye again as he waved. I ignored him.

Nobody cares.

They were all wrapped up in their own shit. Seeing people being self-absorbed shouldn't have made me happy, but...

Elisabeth's friend looked at me nervously and I met her stare blandly. Elisabeth shielded her from my scowl, Nameless Chick trying to resume conversation as she pointed at our curriculum with gaudy interest. She looked a bit panicked and I frowned. Sure, I knew I could intimidate people, but it was a bit unsettling to see fear plastered so obviously over someone's face.

Lukas isn't afraid of me.

We're best friends.

Plus a little more.

And nobody cares except us.

My lips pulled up of their own accord.

Wait. Except us?

Except me?

"Kieran, stop scowling, you're scaring her"

I hummed a noncommittal noise, my fingers ceasing their drum solo.

Δ     Δ     Δ     Δ     Δ     Δ     Δ

"—and remember kids: murder gone messy? Cold water for the clothes, bleach for the floorboards, and alcohol for the mind"

"Marco," DJ groaned, passing a hand over his face slowly, "this is an intervention. Not an interview."

"In short," Roger smiled innocently, "Shut up and sit down"

Marco's face screwed up with confusion, his eyes not-so-subtly glazed over. We'd been at this for a solid ten minutes already, DJ's master plan falling apart before it'd even begun.

"It's an intervention," he'd explained, Roger and I huddled with him in the corner of Mr. Rodriguez' classroom, "He's practically addicted to vaping, and we need to make him stop"

Mr. Rodriguez didn't look too thrilled when we'd all traipsed in when the bell for lunch rang, grumbling to himself as he pulled out a little Tupperware box and some chips. Roger had smiled sheepishly, pushing some of his projects aside so we could all sit at the workbench as DJ tried explaining how he'd envisioned the intervention to go.

"We just gotta enlighten him, you know?" He'd rubbed at the back of his neck nervously, but he looked more determined than I'd seen him in a while. Maybe it was the sketches of naked people surrounding this part of the classroom like a nudist museum, but DJ looked a little flushed, nervous and fidgety. I'd never pegged DJ to be the sensitive type, but the way he'd drilled the plan into our heads was a little excessive.

"It'll be fine," Roger had patted DJ's hand comfortingly, ever calm, "Kieran and I got your back"

I wasn't even sure what they were talking about at this point.

Where's Lukas?

I frowned, glancing around the room for any hint of him, barely catching his shadow in the sunlight filtering through the windows. He wasn't here. Where...?

"— Kieran?"

Three heads turned to look at me and I met them, panicked. Roger looked at me quizzically, DJ with desperation plastered all over his face. Marco looked perfectly content like he had no clue what we were even doing. What are we doing again?

Intervention, yeah.

"Um, yeah," My eyes darted towards the door, nerves kicking up a notch when Lukas still didn't appear, "Vape bad. Drugs bad. Make you bad at basketball. Should stop. Idiot."

DJ looked close to tears as Roger shook his head, disappointed. We turned to look at Marco and I felt relief flood me as he nodded sagely, eyes murky and contemplative.

"Yes, bad" He hummed and DJ slapped his forehead so hard Mr. Rodriguez flinched, dropping his fork on the other side of the room.

"Good thing I gave my vape stuff away this morning," Marco grinned, launching himself at DJ with a peppy grin. I didn't stay to watch how exactly DJ outmaneuvered Marco's residual drug-fueled affection, slipping out of the classroom hurriedly.

What was Lukas' class before lunch?

Gym?

I jogged through the hallway, barely nodding as Rocco waved at me over by the exit doors. He always stood guard there in case a kid tried leaving during lunch since we had a closed campus or something. I didn't really bother to look into the school rules too much. As long as I didn't kill anyone I figured I'd be fine.

The locker rooms smelled like sweat, the aisles empty as I slowly walked past each of them. Lukas' locker was somewhere... towards the end? His gym locker was different from the one we used for basketball, that I knew.

"Lukas?"

He was in the last aisle, body awkwardly draped over himself as he folded in. He was sitting on the bench, half-changed and his head in his hands.

"Kieran?"

Lukas didn't answer me, Arrigo-or-Henry-whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is peering at me from beside my friend. He had one hand around Lukas, the other curling into a tight fist on his lap.

Something didn't look quite right.

"W-what," I frowned, taking a step closer and stopping when Lukas rubbed at his face, still turned away from me— Was he crying?

"What happened?" I took a seat across from Lukas, angling my head so I could see his face. He didn't let up, curling up even tighter, the bottom of his palms digging into his eyes. I could see the tip of his nose, all red and runny, and tear tracks raced to his chin like ley lines. A low, unsettling feeling weighted my gut. I forgot how to breathe, turning to Arrigo, unsure of what exactly— what?

I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen Lukas cry.

He was fine this morning...right?

Arrigo looked everywhere but my eyes, his arm sliding off Lukas' shoulder to join his other hand bunching at his shirt. He bit at his lip and my mind stuttered, failing to recognize him. Arrigo?

Since when was he relevant?

The last time Lukas and I had seen him was at the gym, outside of school.

At least, that was the last time I'd seen him.

"Um," He coughed, fumbling with his fingers, his voice low and hesitant, "I'm gonna go"

He nodded, making his mind up on the spot. Arrigo reached a burly hand out to his stuff sitting in an unorganized pile at his feet. My feet shot out, stepping out on his strap before he could pull it up.

"'S fine," He dropped his bag like he'd tasted fire, hastily patting Lukas' back like Lukas was a kid, "Feel better man, sorry"

It didn't even look like he knew what he was apologizing about. He looked at me, running a hand through his still-sweaty hair and bowing it a bit.

"Imma just—"

"— You do this?" My foot ground his strap down, dragging the bag across the floor which was admittedly stained with years of unidentifiable gunk.

Arrigo shook his head, his neck tensing so his shoulders bunched up into taut, nervous muscles under his shirt. Lukas made an ugly sniffing sound, breathing an unintelligible response.

"Hmm?" I got up, kicking Arrigo's bag over to him and sitting where he'd been next to Lukas. Lukas' thigh brushed against mine and he shifted away from me. I slid closer, pressing our legs up together as I gently grabbed at his wrists.

Was this how he felt when I cried?

It felt terrible. I felt like I was watching him drown and I couldn't do shit. I'm useless.

He can't possibly feel this bad when I cry.

"Arrigo didn't do 'nything. Just-just helping me," Lukas hiccuped quietly, his eyes rubbing fiercely as his face. I heard Arrigo say something through the fog, his footsteps fading as Lukas slowly began to straighten up. He looked fucking terrible, his face red and splotchy, his eyes near the same, a lone stray tear following a track down his cheek were it finally dropped off at his chin.

My hands fisted in my lap the way Arrigo's had.

But I'm not Arrigo, I'm his best friend.

And more.

His bestest friend.

"All good," Lukas offered me a little smile, lips wobbling pathetically as his attempt didn't even register to the rest of his face, not to mention his eyes.

"I'm good." He breathed in deeply, arching his back in a half-stretch, "Good, good."

Is he trying to convince himself?

My fingers unclenched, cautiously moving towards him as he focused on his feet. His hair was growing a little longer, blond strands hanging limply over his forehead.

"Sorry—"

Hugging was fucking weird to start off with. It was two people just holding each other. It wasn't supposed to be intimate, I'd seen fucking five-year-olds hug before, but to me, it was unbearably close. It was too warm, too close. It should've been too much.

But it wasn't.

It should've been even fucking weirder initiating the hug. Lukas' face was still damp and kinda sticky. It should've made me uncomfortable to feel his head drop into the crook of my neck, the feeling of another's tears unknown to the skin by my collarbone. Hell, the thought of his snot rubbing all over my shirt should've made me pull back a little, only loosely wrapping my arm around his shoulders. I couldn't walk around in a snotty shirt for the rest of the day. I should've pulled back.

But it didn't.

What? My mind felt foggy again, another feeling pooling in my gut just as foreign as the one still there from seeing Lukas cry. It made me nauseous, my head light and heavy at the same time.

Lukas' arms moved to wrap around my shoulders, my own dropping to wrap around his middle so I wouldn't hurt him by pulling him down too far. If it was uncomfortable, which it fucking was, we didn't let each other know. Our knees bumped awkwardly, one arm stretching a little too much to reach the other, spines contorted a little too much as we tried to make hugging on a fucking gym bench work.

Fuck, I wanted it to work.

Lukas buried his head a little further, the collar of my shirt lifting a bit as he breathed in deeply. Shit, do I smell weird? I did the same, hesitantly, the scent of Lukas' sweat not as nice as I'd been hoping it would be. But it was sweat, it was tears— they weren't supposed to smell good, feel good.

But hugging felt good.

Lukas is a hugger.

I held him a little tighter, my head tilting to the side as he practically pulled me into his lap. Would that make this easier? I contemplated the idea before refocusing on just rubbing the spot between Lukas' shoulder blades. Mum used to do that for me when I was little. I cried a lot when I was little.

"Sorry," Lukas' lips breathed the apology into my skin and I shook my head minutely, my chin propped up on his stiff, sloping shoulders.

"Sorry," I let him apologize again, shifting as my spine started to scream at the weird contortion the bench was making us do. Shut the fuck up and suffer a little longer.

"What happ—"

"—Everything," He sighed, relaxing his hold on me, "Grandma's sick. We sent her to my aunt's 'cause the hospital is better. Rooster just started refusing food for no fucking reason yesterday. Nadine had a panic attack too, and I couldn't—"

He hiccuped, pulling me back closer and I let myself lose oxygen.

"—I couldn't calm her down. Now the triplets are scarred, Dad's having a nervous breakdown, and Mum's just always fucking sleeping. I know she works nights and she needs to sleep but I can't fucking do it by myself. F-fuck."

"You don't have to, dumbass" I wheezed letting the insult slip out without meaning to. I pushed back a little but kept my grip around him snug, "Sorry, but it's not your job to—"

"—but it feels like I have to."

We unraveled around each other and Lukas peered at me, utterly exhausted. My gut jerked again and I fought off the need to wrap myself back around him. I wanna help him. How can I...

"Sorry," He chuckled, wiping at his face again.

"I don't mind you calling me names by the way. It's you. I—"

The bell cut him off and neither of us moved for a few seconds, my stomach filling the silence with a proud grumble. Shit.

"Fuck, did you eat, Keke?" Lukas jerked off the bench, pawing through his things.

"You're supposed to buy today, right? Here, I think I have some snacks—"

I draped myself around him again figuring that it was the only way to shut him up. It worked and we settled into a more comfortable position, splayed out on the floor, our arms half-wrapped around each other.

The locker room started to fill with more noise, the usual metal clanging and screaming sophomores crowding the former silence.

"I'll be fine," I patted Lukas awkwardly on the head, unsure of how else I could calm him down, one arm already sacrificed to the tight space between his broad shoulders and the bench.

"I'll steal your granola"

Lukas giggled weakly and I smiled. Good.

"Sorry about this, I—" Lukas sighed, the smile dropping off his face as he breathed heavily and ran a hand through his hair.

"—you're coming over to dinner today. Tell your family. Or Mum and I will come over," I squeezed his shoulders, meeting his still-watery gaze directly.

"You don't have to," He breathed, but I heard the relief in his voice. I smiled, following the flush on his cheeks down to his lips.

"Man, fuck gym. Why do we even need—"

Lukas and I froze, still quite obviously wrapped around each other in a weird human-knot on the floor of the locker room. Ew, the floor. A group of freshmen paused, identifiable by their weird stilt legs, fine facial hair dusting their chins and babyfaces. Their voices were still high, so they always spoke louder, practically yelling.

"The fuck?" One of them cackled, blissfully ignorant of the warning-looks his friends shot him.

"You guys gay or some shit?"

"Some shit," I answered before Lukas could, "and if you don't leave in the next three seconds I'll make sure you never see the ending half of puberty, motherfucker"

"Dude, that's the basketball dude. The junior"

Lukas nudged me with a smile as one of their strained whispers carried. I flushed, rolling my eyes before glaring at the loudmouth freshie front and center.

"Fuck outta here"

They scattered like bowling pins.

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4131 words

Holy shit, this was a long-ass chapter. I try to keep chapter lengths consistent, but this one kinda ran away from me a bit and I didn't have to heart to crop much out. I'm sorry for those of you who didn't like the change and I should be back to normal-length chapters in the future! I just got a new laptop and finally graduated high school so I was a bit too excited haha.

How did you like this (veryyyy long) chapter?

Part of me wants to just get Kieran and Lukas together already, but I have a few plot events I really want to get through first. We'll see how it goes since I'm not the best at sticking to or making plans. I'm hoping to finish BWBBv.2 soon and start editing/finalizing it and also starting up DJ and Marco's spin-off Kissing Boys. It will most likely be a full-length book like this one whereas my planned spin-offs for Caoimhe (Kieran's mom) and Roger will be short-stories. I'm still unsure about Michael's book, though I have a comfortable idea of what I want his story to be.

Anyways, sorry for the ranting/rambling! I'm in an oddly good mood :)

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you all have a beautiful week! <3