trash star - punznap

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"prom?" he mutters, raising an eyebrow, "i'm not going to prom."

"what? come on! you're not gonna go to prom now that you've got a girl and everything?"

clay pats his back in some futile attempt to encourage him.

"prom is stupid anyway. it's just overhyped bullshit."

"it's a once in a lifetime thing! don't say that!"

he pushes clay's hand away, sick of the constant reminders of his failed love life.

"yeah, yeah.. whatever."

"you could be prom king! and sadie-"

"dude, you really think i would be prom king? out of everyone in this school?" he scoffs.

"well..."

"i don't wanna wear an ugly crown anyway."

sam is giggling at them from across the table, enjoying the show. his face is red because he's tried so hard to hold back his laughter.

"what's so funny?" nick asks him, "prom is just some dumb, pretentious shit invented by rich people. i'm literally not going."

"what if sadie wants to go then?" sam wonders, still grinning like an idiot.

nick falls silent. he bites his lip, taking a moment to think before replying. how far is he willing to go to keep this act up? he doesn't want to raise any suspicion. and sometimes you have to make sacrifices...

"okay, you know what," he starts, clearing his throat, "if sadie wants to go really bad, i might consider it. i don't wanna ruin anything for her."

his words are met with a collective awwing. he cringes, reaching over and nipple twisting them both when they're not paying attention. clay squeals and sam slaps him in retaliation. his pencil rolls off the table, only to be forgotten there on the floor.

the librarian hushes them for the second time, probably more than tired of the boys' shenanigans. nick always manages to get thrown out somehow, no matter how well he thinks he's behaving. it's like he's destined to be a troublemaker, a no-good rebel.

"you didn't have to do that!" sam whisper-shouts, his arms crossed over his chest as protection.

"then shut up," nick mouths back, "i'm not a simp."

he can feel the entertained looks he's getting from both of the boys, but he doesn't care. the paper in front of him is just as blank as it was fifteen minutes ago, yet he chooses to keep staring at it. just another piece of undone homework. what's new?

"who are you going with, sam?" clay asks, diverting his attention.

"shit, i wish i knew. i'll see if i can find someone i guess."

"you two should go together as a couple, i know for a fact that neither of you are getting any pussy," nick proudly comments.

sam glares at him, offended.

"you're getting all cocky just cause you have a girl now, what the fuck dude? you weren't any better a few months ago."

and he's still not any better. he's a fraud. a loser kid in love with the popular guy. his life is a cliche. but they don't know that, and they will never know that.

"whatever," he mumbles, shrugging them off.

once again his thoughts have been the catalyst for his downfall. they keep racing, jumping from disaster to disaster. sometimes it feels like they race against each other, to see which one can beat him down the fastest.

just one wrong move and they're spiraling, and all of a sudden he's going down a never-ending rabbit hole of guilt and anxiety. it can ruin his mood and a whole conversation in a matter of minutes.

usually he'd have some snappy response ready for situations like these. he's never afraid to bite back around his friends. but this time he stays quiet, too busy with his pointless overthinking. neither clay nor sam comments on his odd behavior, but he can tell by their expressions that they know something's up. they're not dumb.

nick wants to hit himself for making it so obvious. he's supposed to be keeping a straight face, he's supposed to keep the lies afloat. he knew what he was getting into when he started this whole thing. or at least he thought he did.

sometimes it feels like he's doing it to trick himself, rather than the people around him. he's pretending that sadie is his girlfriend to try and stave off the truth. he may have accepted it, but that doesn't mean he'll let it capture him and hold him back. he has to make the feelings disappear, no matter what it takes. no matter the cost.

luke will never be the death of him. he's stronger than that. he won't get caught in his traps, won't be fooled by his little games.

but despite that he feels his knees going weak when sweet wafts of bubblegum fill his nose. he looks up from the table and there he is; dressed in that iconic white hoodie, his chin scruff a little longer than usual, like he skipped shaving a few mornings in a row. he's stronger than that.

he isn't. his heart starts to race and he isn't. it feels like he's melting, like his brain is melting and his thoughts are melting and his whole body is melting. it's more intense than ever. and luke hasn't even said a word yet.

"do any of you have a pencil?"

and he's fucked.

sam and clay look at each other, like they're confused as to why luke would ask them out of all people. nick just tries to stop his hands from shaking and his cheeks from turning a deep red. then he remembers the pencil on the floor.

"u-uh, i.. have one. it's- it's on the floor, uhm..."

he couldn't have messed that up more.

he pushes his chair out a bit, reaching down to grab it. for a second he thinks he's gonna fall and make everything even worse, but by the grace of god he manages to retrieve the piece of stationery unharmed.

luke takes it from his hand immediately. it's the closest they've been since the last time in the bathroom. they're so close that their fingers almost touch. nick shivers. his pupils are probably blown, staring at the beautiful boy. he hopes it isn't noticeable.

"thanks," luke mutters. his voice is cold and emotionless, yet there seems to be a sparkle in those baby blue eyes.

he gazes at nick for seconds. he looks at him like he's special. maybe it's just an illusion, his own mind playing tricks on him - but no, he swears that luke is acting funny. it's real, it has to be. he wants it to be real so bad, that he forgets all about his goal. to lose these damn feelings.

blondie is gone just as fast as he came. nick is left with sweaty palms and a lump in his throat. sam huffs, scratching his head before speaking.

"you're never gonna get that pencil back bro."

but he doesn't care. his thoughts have spun away to different places.

one month left until prom.

°. •. 。