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clay glances at him from where he's standing, casually leaned against the row of lockers. he gesticulates wildly as he speaks. nick isn't sure what it is that he's rambling about this time. clay tends to go off on tangents about anything and everything; video games, schoolwork, politics, and nick tends to be a good listener. but today he isn't in the mood. the truth is that he hasn't been in the mood for days.

he sticks his hand back into his locker, desperately digging around for a pencil. it's so cluttered with useless trash that one could probably fill up an entire shopping cart if they cleaned it out. trying to find anything inside is like going treasure hunting in a dark, damp cave.

first you need to get past the endless unfinished homework papers, then the empty soda cans and candy wrappers, and maybe some lost blunt wraps too. it's a whole quest between every class. not to mention the unpleasant smell coming from the hellish, unknown depths.

"so, what do you think?"

the line catches his attention.

"what?" he mumbles, finally looking over at clay who just rolls his eyes.

"were you even listening?"

his disappointed stare makes nick feel guilty. he's being a bad friend again. he's stuck in his thoughts, inattentive. he's letting stupid things get to his head.

"no...?"

"come on, what's up with you?" clay questions, "you've been so absent lately."

he sounds annoyed, but nick can't tell if it's genuine or not. he hopes that it isn't. he doesn't need to have another person against him. he's already alone in this mess, lost with no one to guide him. it's enough.

he wishes people would stop asking such intrusive questions. 'why are you so quiet?' cause he doesn't have anything to say. 'are you alright?' no he isn't, but that's no one's business. not even clay's. he can't know. no one can know.

sadie wasn't meant to know either, but the control slipped from his hands. he can't let it do that again. at least she doesn't know the full extent of the train wreck. she doesn't know who's got him held down in shackles, who's got his feelings on a tight leash.

"what do you mean?"

he plays dumb.

"i don't know, you're-" clay pauses, as if he's choosing his next words carefully, "you've just been kinda quiet lately, i don't know."

there it is again.

"you're usually all bouncy, energetic, you know? you're all over the place all the time."

he reaches out to put a hand on nick's shoulder, but it's quickly dodged.

"maybe i just grew up, have you ever thought about that?" nick hisses, "i'm a senior, i'm not a kid anymore."

clay frowns. he clearly didn't expect such an aggressive response. his best friend looks at him with tired, displeased eyes, but there's something else lurking in them too. a foreign emotion that is unrecognizable. he wants to question it, but he's already walking on eggshells and he knows it's pointless. nick won't open up more now.

the conversation dies out. clay glances at his schedule, pretending to have forgotten what class he's got next. nick keeps digging around in his locker even though he already found the chipped pencil that he was looking for. the tip is broken off, rendering the piece of stationery useless. he sighs.

soft chatter echoes throughout the school hallway. neither of the boys pay much mind to it at first; but when new, confident voices start to overtake the mellow ones, their attention is captured. clay turns his head out of curiosity when footsteps near them from behind. nick just rolls his eyes, uninterested, until a familiar laugh suddenly rips through the room.

that laugh. that sweet, giggly laugh that he always used to mock. he tenses up. he could recognize that laugh from miles away. he's heard it so many times, whether it was triggered by a bad joke or a mistake of his. he clutches onto the locker door so hard that his knuckles go white.

he doesn't want to turn around and look. he wants to do anything but turn around and look. yet he falls victim to the creeping temptation only seconds later.

it's hard to hear what they're saying when they all talk at the same time. dylan, luke, and that girl. that girl with the bleached hair and the pink eyeshadow, the one that nick now recognizes as lucy. lucy, and luke's new girlfriend.

his arm is loosely wrapped around her tiny waist, proving to the whole school that they're a thing. nick wants to throw up.

it's as if he can feel that arm around himself, feel that hand that's usually so rough ghost over his side. it makes him shiver. it makes him want to cry.

he tries to look away, but it's impossible. his body is frozen in place. he watches them come closer and closer, watches them as they talk and laugh about god knows what. luke runs his fingers through his hair like he always does. that thick, fluffy hair...

nick can feel his heart doing stupid flips. he's in too deep. and as if it couldn't any get worse, a pair of icy blues suddenly catch him gawking. they make him feel so cold, so vulnerable. they freeze time.

luke's expression is unreadable. it's not one of hatred or disgust, but it doesn't seem happy either. nick knows that his own is riddled with guilt and regret. he must look like an idiot. a pathetic lovesick idiot.

images of forbidden lust play on loop in his mind. they're like a plague; no matter how hard he tries to shake them out they stubbornly stay. how could he act normal when luke's presence takes him right back to the old days? the better days, even though he's ashamed to admit it.

how could he ever move on, knowing what the gorgeous boy smells like, tastes like, feels like? he's stuck. stuck in that loop.

their eye contact doesn't last for more than a second or two, yet it feels to nick like an eternity has passed. his chest remains tight as he watches the trio make their way further down the corridor. eventually they disappear around a corner, leaving him feeling empty once more.

his hands are empty too. he wishes that soft blond strands could brush against the skin, his fingertips, run across every little crease in his palms. but it's only a futile dream.

"don't you think it's a little weird that lucy is dating him?"

clay sports a puzzled look, continuing when he gets no response.

"i mean, i don't think her parents would approve of... that."

nick slowly closes his locker, biting his lip. his whole demeanor is dull, like he's not entirely present.

"he's rich," he mutters, lacking better words, "they won't care."

"he just doesn't seem like her type," clay comments, "she seems too neat to date a stoner like-"

"luke is everyone's type."

his tone is short and blunt. for the first time in a while he dares to look his friend straight in the eyes.

"everyone wants him. 's just how it is."

clay doesn't reply. instead he shrugs his shoulders, fiddles with a loose thread hanging from his shirt. nick begins to walk away in silence, not caring if the blond boy follows after him or not. he needs time to think.

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