Paper Hearts [Brallon-ish]

The day after

I think I woke up first, and after that I started an accidental chain reaction of confused screeching and Spencer pounding his fist against the door even louder than he already was. He swung it open without warning, Pete scrambling to pull the lone sheet over his chest like he was naked. Which he wasn't, thankfully. That would've been disgusting. I probably would've left, or maybe used the built up anger punch I'd saved from last night.

This is it, I scolded myself when Spencer crossed his arms over his chest like he was mad. I didn't see his face though, so it was just an assumption that he was angry at us. Per usual though. He always seemed to be upset over something, but none of us could tell what or why. It was probably because we caused so much ruckus he wasn't able to contain. That was plausible.

I bet we'd had too many drinks. One of cats we'd released weeks ago gave it away. Pesto snuck out without Brendon to tuck him into bed last night. The suspension letters took our prank too far. The firecrackers led right back to us. We were going to get expelled right here right now, and Brendon wasn't here so he wouldn't be caught. I'd never ever see him again.

Then everything came flooding back; his lips on mine and the tired smile across his face and the 'To be continued', then the confusing yelling too late at night, the "I'll see you tomorrow", and the flutter of his white tank top in the parking lot. I didn't want to be expelled in the much too realistic fear of never seeing him again.

And then my mind told me, he only said what he'd said because he was drunk. You really don't even know him at all, at this point.

Don't, I told myself, one of the only times I'd bothered to argue back, I've just begun to know him.

As if answering my nervous prayers, Spencer uncrossed his arms lazily and said, "you guys aren't in trouble. Just come down to the gym. Take all the time you need."

"What happened?" Ryan mumbled, barely awake from sleep. Patrick grunted in confusion next to him.

Spencer turned away, like he was afraid to look at us. And before he shut the door, muttered something under his breath I wasn't able to make out.

I turned to Pete and he turned to me, and I realized the suspense in my chest was gone. For better or for worse, I couldn't tell. All that mattered was that it was gone, and nobody was dead.

..:..::..:::..::..:..

"This happened last year," Pete grumbled in annoyance he had to get dressed so early, still half asleep and trying to button up the only remaining clean shirt that he owned "when one of the history teachers died. I would say I missed him if he wasn't such an asshole."

"You failed that history test for a reason-" Ryan reminded Pete of the story of how he got 22/80 questions right because he'd taught himself to make baskets from the palm fronds outside instead of studying like a 'responsible student', as Patrick loosely phrased it. He'd especially gotten angry over one of the questions with an easily disputable answer that left it open between 3 options.

"The answer to question 22 was right and everybody fucking knew it."

"If you ask me," Ryan sighed and started changing his socks to a pair that wasn't green from grass stains "it's totally the asshole Spanish teacher we had last year that bit the bullet. It's the only explanation I've got for right now."

"You guys are the assholes." Patrick laughed and ushered us all out of the room, assuming we'd meet Brendon there since he hadn't returned home yet. We'd probably meet him there. If my suspicions were correct, he had camped out somewhere for the remainder of the night, and we'd see him again in a bit and get the answer as to why he'd left in such a hurry.