chapter three â nothing
MARCO LOOKED LIKE A DEMON. He was wearing that creepy smile I knew too well, face flushed and eyes dilated from the combination of weed and whiskey. DJ was right behind him, sober as always, arms outstretched ready for any shit Marco stirred up. Marco was too good at thatâ pissing people off. I wasn't sure anybody trusted him with anything, excluding DJ, but for some strange reason, everyone told him everything. Marco knew more about what happened in other people's lives than the CIA, and that shit was mad scary.
"What's up, Lukas? Why're you sober, man?" Marco laughed loudly, the small crowd in the kitchen parting like the Red Sea for a boozy Moses.
"Don't need alcohol to have fun, crackhead," I answered, eyebrow raised.
"Bullshit," Marco slurred but relenting with a smile. He brushed past me, pulling me down so he could whisper in my ear.
"You wanna know where Kieran is? I bet you do."
I flushed, shoving him back and away from me. Marco grinned stupidly, offering me a sly wink. I looked at DJ for help and he nodded at me from over the drunken idiot's shoulder. He sighed, hand reaching out to pull Marco back by his shoulder. Marco tensed, then relaxed when he saw DJ behind him.
"DJ? Man, when did you get here?" Marco grinned, thoroughly wasted but ecstatic at seeing his best friend behind him. It was almost as if DJ hadn't been behind him the whole night.
"Been here," DJ answered quietly, his deep voice still managing to be heard even as a random girl screamed from the other room.
"Let's go find Roger," DJ steered Marco out of the kitchen, shooting me a look. I smiled weakly at him, chuckling when Marco began talking animatedly, eyes determinedly focusing on DJ and not watching where he was going.
"Kieran's by the stairs, loverboy" Marco crooned, leaning heavily against DJ. DJ just tightened his grip on Marco's shoulder, and they disappeared past the door frame.
Marco loved to give me shit about being gay. He also liked to joke around that I had a Kardashian-ass sized crush on Kieran, but we were just friends and my crush on him was a thing of the past. Nothing more. Besides, Kieran would have an aneurysm if I ever came out as gay. He wasn't the most flexible or understanding of people, so I was pretty adamant about staying in the closet. Besides, my closet was pretty damn comfortable.
"Hey man, looking for Mogan?"
I was startled back into reality by none other than Roger Lee himself. He wasn't big on parties (his parents never let him out past 10 o'clock), so him even being here was still taking some getting used to. My eyes flit to the red solo cup in his hand, lips forming a half-smile when I saw little Sharpie drawings all over it.
That's one way to mark your cup.
"Fuck off, Lee."
Roger just laughed, nudging me with his shoulder good-naturedly. His drink, some weird combination of beer and water from the looks of it, sloshed around a little, threatening to fall out. Roger was the only one I knew who could drink diluted alcohol willingly.
"Sorry, sorry. You just look lost whenever he's not around"
He smiled coyly, bringing the cup up to his mouth to hide his smirk. I rolled my eyes, unable to find a decent enough rebuttal.
"There's nothing going on between me and Kieran, Roger"
"Kieran and I, " Roger breezily corrected me, smirk still playing on his lips. I eyed the shallow dimple on the right side of his face venomously.
"Literally fuck off" I groaned.
Why was it that all of my friends insisted on me being in love with Kieran? There wasn't even anything to love about him. He was a homophobic, egotistic asshole. I could do so much better than him. Yeah, he was fucking gorgeous. Yeah, he was fucking hilarious. Yeah, his mere existence made me happy, butâfuck.
"Lukas, you've been in love with the kid since freshman year. I'm not telling you who you like, I'm just telling you to pay more attention to your emotions instead of brushing them aside." Roger put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. I turned my head, refusing to meet his gaze.
I heard him sigh, the hand on my shoulder lifting as he left the kitchen.
I do not like Kieran Mogan. Not anymore. That's old news. Roger's just stuck in the past.
I bit down on my lip, hard, spinning around to scan the table Paisley Roberts had set up in the kitchen. She was a bit of a try-hard, organizing the drinks alphabetically. Some kid had taken over the table, completely out of it, pretending he was a bartender. André did that at every party though, so it wasn't an issue. Usually.
I neared the table, hands shoved in my pockets. I hadn't planned on drinking tonight, but seeing as none of my friends wanted to party with me I didn't really have a choice. It was either drink or find Kieran and be a clingy bitch. Or I could leave, but what kind of a loser leaves parties at nine? Me, actually, but I'd only ever left parties to hang out with Kieran. Kieran wasn't in the game plan for tonight.
He's probably busy anyway.
Kieran wasn't shy about his party activities, and I was willing to bet my week's allowance that he had his tongue down a girl's throat right now. I pushed the image to the back of my mind, hands casually pressing down on the table as I smiled at André, friendly.
"Hey, André? Got anyâ"
"Lukas, my bro!" André cheered, spilling a bit of whatever his drink was on the floor. I grimaced, smile turning ugly for a second. He didn't seem to notice though and snatched a can off the table before rounding the table. He slung his arm around me and I quickly slipped out from under it, scratching the back of my neck uncomfortably.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
"I've been waiting for you all night, bro," André nursed his drink close to his chest, the can cradled in his other arm.
"You need a White Claws, bro," He nodded seriously, holding the can out to me. I took it hesitantly.
"Ain't no laws when it comes to claws, bro"
"Thanks, bro?" I tried the word out, hating it instantly.
Kieran was quite possibly the only one who could say that word that wouldn't make me cringe.
Fuck. Don't think about Kieran.
I eyed the can, unsure if I could trust André's recommendation.
"What's this, vodka soda?" I couldn't find out what type of alcohol it was, instead noting it was only 5% alcohol. Relatively light.
"Nah, bro. It's an FMB" André nodded sagely and I mimicked him, paranoia increasing when I realized how dangerously close the word FMB was to SMG. If this shit blew up in my mouth I was gonna kill André.
"Trust me, bro. It's good. Doesn't even burn down your throat. Tastes damn good. I know everything about White Claws. I follow all its fan pages on Insta. Clawdaddycentral, whiteclawbitches, you name it" André popped my can for me, a surprisingly non-alcoholic smell emanating from it.
I nervously looked at the table, spotting my usual Budlight sitting lonely in the corner.
"It's Mango, bro" André grinned, half-lidded smile widening when I tossed my head back and drank half the can's contents.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, not feeling shitty in the least. It was light. I could handle a couple, no problem. I didn't want to get wasted, but tipsy was a road I had no qualms about.
"Shit bro, I'll get a couple more lined up for you"
Î Î Î Î Î Î Î
"Kieran, I'm gay"
I blinked, shaking my head so I could see him more clearly. We were outside, the warm summer evening doing nothing to cease my nausea. It was well into the night, the only light that from the naked lamps inside the house. Nearly all of the lampshades were on people's heads now, the party approaching that hour, the one where people did things they would regret. My palms were sweaty, knees weak, and I was craving spaghetti. Not my mother's though since she added vegetables and that was inexcusable.
"Lukasâ" He tried interrupting me, hand reaching for my forearm.
I interrupted him, pressing my finger against his lips in a hushing motion. His lips were more chapped than I'd imagined them to be, and I blamed it on the alcohol for messing with my sense of touch. Kieran's lips were undoubtedly phenomenal, it was my fingers that couldn't comprehend their beauty.
"I'm not done, Keke. I'm gay for you" I paused hesitantly, unsure of his reaction. I still couldn't make out his face in the terrible lighting and I staggered forward, wrapping my arms around him in a hug. He only came up to my chest and I frowned. Kieran was shorter than me, yeah, but I'd never know he was that much shorter.
It's ok, I still love him. Short legs and all.
"I'm like super gay for you, y-you don't even know, bro"
He struggled against me, palms pressing flat against my chest to push me back. I let him go with a sigh, looking down at my feet. I knew what was coming next. I liked him so goddamn much, it was unnatural. It wasn't fair how life could twist emotions like that and make me fall for a straight guy. My best friend too, of course. It was a fucked-up game love played, one I firmly wanted no part in, but love didn't listen to its pawns.
It was like Jumanji in a way: couldn't take no for an answer.
Kinda like Kieran too.
"You're so pretty," I mumbled, lips feeling heavy as I slurred over each word, looking at each thread on the frayed end of my laces. I counted the freckles on Kieran's face from memory, connecting them to make constellations in my head. Kieran hated his freckles, said they made him feel like a pansy, but I loved them. Loved his face. Loved him.
"And I'm so stupid," I smiled sadly, finally looking up to see if Kieran had even bothered to stay after I poured my heart out for him.
Except, it wasn't Kieran standing there, the light finally falling on his face.
"You're not stupid, Lukas" Michael smiled, eyes squinting from the stretch. His sleeves fell over his hands, hiding the way he played with fingers when he was nervous. The last time I'd talked to him was a little over a year ago, yet I could still list off his habits like I'd known him a lifetime.
Even with that knowledge, I had no idea who Michael really was. He was a familiar stranger, nothing more, nothing less.
"Michael? Where's Kieran?" My tone changed, smile fading quickly. I didn't pour my heart out to strangers, hell, I could barely open up to friends.
"Kieran's somewhere, not here though" Michael answered with a shrug, looking down at his shoes shyly. His Converse were dirty and scuffed up, the white band of the sole colored in with markers to make a rainbow. Michael was the only out-and-proud gay in our school, and nearly all of his clothes alluded to it.
"I-I don't understand?" Sobriety hit me like a freight train. I straightened my back unconsciously, mouth straining into a thin line as I stared Michael down.
"Lukas, what you said wasâ"
"âNot meant for you to hear" I snapped, disliking how Michael's lips pulled into a frown. It didn't suit him, the expression ugly on his rounded face.
"I know," He answered calmly, evidently unfazed.
"But you need to tell Kieran what you told me"
"I didn't tell you," I scowled, "I thought you were Kieran"
Michael laughed lightly, hand flying up to tug at his earring. He had ticks like that, constantly fidgeting whenever he was uncomfortable.
"Yeah, I know."
He took a step towards me and I shoved my hands into my pockets, suddenly realizing how dry my mouth felt. How much did I drink?
"You're gonna have to tell him eventually"
"Yeah, I know" I relaxed, sliding my back against the wall of the house so I could sit on the floor. Michael hesitated before coming over next to me, sitting a little farther away than he would've before.
"You love him?" He nudged the toe of my shoes with his own.
"I don't know. Maybe." I chewed on my lip, hands reaching up to rake through my hair.
I could picture Kieran in front of me, disgust in eyes as I curled up against the side of the house. I couldn't like him. I couldn't love him. It would just hurt me, and I didn't want to hurt.
"He's such an asshole, Michael. Like, he really doesn't give a shit about anyone. Except for his Mum."
"And you. He gives a shit about you, Lukas"
"Shut up, Michael"
"Sorry," Michael murmured quietly.
We sat there in silence, the sounds of the party muted by drywall and stucco. Every few minutes or so, a car would drive by, slowly assessing the wreckage on the lawn. A couple flew by Michael and me, giggling, apparently high off of each other. They fumbled with each other's clothes before finally unlocking a car and getting in. Their headlights had barely flickered into existence before they took off.
Michael snickered beside me and my own smile spread across my face, tiredly.
"Lukas? That you?" My head snapped to the side, watching as the front door opened. Kieran stepped out, a little unstable on his feet. He grinned widely, walking over to me as I shot up, dusting off my pants.
Michael stood up next to me, distracting Kieran briefly. The grin slipped from his face, Kieran's blue eyes zeroing in on Michael's earring, the rainbow on his shoes. They narrowed, piercing in the warm evening, turning the air frigid.
"Who're you?" His lips curved into his beautiful frown. He walked around Michael carefully, leaning against the porch railing so he was next to me. I shuffled on my feet, putting more distance between Michael and me.
"Michael, Lukas' friend" Michael held his hand out for a formal introduction, cheery smile on his face.
"That true?" Kieran looked over at me, eyebrows raised incredulously.
I looked over at Michael, watching as he brought his hand back to his side awkwardly. He started to pick at his nails, eyes flitting down to his shoes.
"Yeah."
Kieran hummed in response, eyes momentarily unfocusing. His eyes flit to my chin and I rubbed at it self-consciously, wondering if I had spilled anything on it.
"Wanna go to mine? I rented COD Modern Warfare." Kieran wasn't really asking, his hand wrapping around my wrist to pull me off the porch.
"Yeah," I followed him blindly, not looking back.
Kieran turned his head slightly, crappy street lights drowning him in yellow light. Even then, I could make out the blue in his eyes, the constellations in his freckles, and the way he smiled at me crookedly. His hand was still wrapped tightly around my wrist and I reveled in his touch, struggling not to blush. I can't love him.
"What are you looking at?" He huffed, semi-serious. He still had a breathtaking smile on his face and I couldn't stop looking at the small curves his mouth made.
"Nothing."
"You're so fucking weird" He rolled his eyes, finally letting go of my hand as we settled into our stride. Kieran kicked at a rock, eyes following it determinedly. He chased after it, speeding up as he went. I watched him go, meeting his eyes when he looked back at me sheepishly.
I kicked the rock to him, giddy smile growing on my face. He watched it roll by, both of us frowning when it disappeared into the lawn of a random person's house.
"We're so fucking weird," He shook his head, waiting for me to catch up with him.
"Yeah, we are."
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2732 words
*unedited* sorry :(
What do you guys think?
I changed it up a little bit from version one. Lukas is going to be less accepting of his crush, and Kieran's going to be a little harder to deal with. Michael is also going to be a little more involved.
Thank you for reading, and have a beautiful day! â¤ï¸