Nightlife ✓

14 | raincheck

This morning, I had purposefully put more effort into my appearance even though I knew Quen did not care at all what I wore. After the first time he saw me in my influencer clothes, he never again paid much attention to my outfits. He was the same with me if I wore stilettos and latex or sweatpants and glasses.

But I wanted to switch it up today for myself. Putting effort into my appearance could feel immensely rewarding precisely because I didn't make it routine. I was still comfortable in wide-legged black jeans and a cream-coloured sweater, but I felt markedly prettier because I let my hair down from its usual practical topknot.

If Quen noticed, he didn't say a thing.

"Yeah, about that," he began hesitantly. He was rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe we should raincheck it."

I felt my hopeful smile freeze on my face. I had not expected that. Disappointment bloomed in my stomach like a fungus, but I was nothing if not adaptable—and great at masking my emotions.

I gave Quen a reassuring smile, and asked lightheartedly, "Do you have badminton practise soon? Or band practise?"

"No, it's, um..." Quen dropped his head. His voice had become hushed and tremulous, and it seemed like he couldn't even meet my eyes anymore. "Raincheck is probably not the word. I think... we should cancel it."

"Oh."

That disappointment thickened.

It acidified and it gnawed at me until I felt a near palpable pain in my stomach.

I tried to breathe through it, but that introduced the sour taste into my mouth. I probably was silent for a beat too long, which meant that I might give away how much I had been looking forward to the lunch, which might then reveal my feelings and complicate our friendship. Plus, Quen would worry excessively.

With a sure, steady lilt to my voice, I said, "That's fine, Quen. Don't worry about it."

"It's because, well, I feel like it wouldn't be totally innocent," Quen tried to explain anyway. "And I don't— it's just—"

He didn't need to say it.

He didn't feel the same way about me as I did about him.

It was better that he didn't say it, actually, because then we could both pretend the prospect of more had never existed between us. Perhaps, to him, it never had. I interrupted before he could speak my rejection into reality. Better to have my disappointment exist only in my gut, rather than in the air and in Quen's memories.

"Chill out, dude," I chuckled airily. "I don't need your whole internal monologue. Just make sure you do feed yourself today, yeah? Elite athletes need their carbohydrates."

"Of course," Quen rolled his eyes and smiled. That smile chased away the foulness within me, just enough that I could pretend it didn't exist.

Operation Pride & Prejudice. Abort.

I turned my head to my notebook on the desk. Most of the questions I had figured out, so I concentrated on the two that were proving hard to complete. Grant had seen about four students by now, and I planned to be the next. Some minutes later, I realised Quen was neither working on his assignment or a coding project of his.

I glanced over to him, meeting his dark, hesitant eyes already trained on me.

"I forgot to say something," he murmured. "I got you this. As compensation."

With mounting curiosity, I watched as Quen lifted a shopping bag from the floor and pushed it towards me. I hadn't noticed it coming in because it had been resting by the table leg and mostly obscured by his backpack.

"Compensation?" I arched a suspicious eyebrow at the bag, not yet touching it. "You sound like a paralegal."

A faint blush appeared on Quen's cheeks. "Okay, compensation's not the word either. It's a thank you. For looking after me every time I get myself embarrassingly drunk. And for my friends, all at your expense. I thought you deserved something in return."

I gently opened the bag and reached in. My fingers brushed against something soft and fluffy. When I pulled it out and held it before me, my heart clenched with gratitude.

It was a Kylo Ren teddy bear. His black and silver helm looked way cuter on a face with chubby cheeks and a button nose — and it even had a stuffed, red, crossguard lightsaber accessory velcroed to its hand! I was so touched by Quen's gift. I had received enough jewellery and makeup and other typical feminine luxury items for a lifetime from a wide range of sponsors, but I was sorely lacking in fandom merchandise.

I hugged the teddy bear to my chest, burrowing my nose into its head. It smelt faintly of chocolate chip cookies, and I wondered if Quen had also scented it. "If this is what I get for a cancelled lunch, I never want to eat out again. He's adorable, Quen, I really appreciate this. Thank you."

When he saw that I loved it, his brow smoothened out and his smile ramped up several notches in brightness. "You're welcome, Krista."

"I shall name him Kylo Bear," I announced, holding Kylo Bear up to the light of the morning. "What do you think?"

Quen glanced at the teddy, and then fixed me with that calm, sweet, dazzling smile of his. The smile that used to light my insides up. The smile into which, from this day onwards, I would force myself to not read too much.

It was just a smile. He was just a friend.

He said, "Kylo Bear is perfect."