BLUE [BXB]

EIGHT

   "He's coming over tomorrow, Macey! Don't put dumb ideas in my head!" he shouted. She lightened up.

   "Coming over? To your house? Where you'll be completely alone?" she pointed out, her tone oh-so suggestive.

   "Fuck off. Nothing's gonna happen," he retorted.

   "I'll bet you twenty dollars something will," she challenged, eyes sparkling with amusement.

   "You're on, bitch, I could use the extra money."

   "Poor Vincent. Poor, naive, little Vincent." Said boy rolled his eyes at her. "Anyways, does your dad mind if I stay over? Don't really feel like driving all the way back."

   "No, he doesn't," Vincent looked thoughtful for a minute. "But I do."

   Macey looked unbothered, fishing out the extra mattress she'd known was under the bed. "Well, it's a good thing I didn't ask you."

   "Remind me why I'm friends with you?" he asked irritatedly.

   "Because I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Vincent."

   Vincent didn't have the energy to retort, so he just settled for mumbling a goodnight. He rested his head on the pillow, anxious anticipation bubbling in his stomach for the following day.

   And boy, did he hope he would lose the bet.

***
   The next day, after Vincent had finished his private painting session and packed his belongings in his locker, all he could do was stare back at himself in the mirror of the boys' bathroom.

   He'd been in there for roughly twenty minutes. At first, he'd just been paranoid that Ethan wouldn't be done with practice yet, and he'd end up waiting for him at his car. That would just make him look desperate.

   But after a while of looking at his reflection, he felt incredibly self-conscious. His clothes were wrinkled from the amount of times he had pulled at them, and his hair almost fell out from the amount of times he'd ran his fingers through it.

   Had the bags under his eyes always been this bad?

   Then, Vincent panicked, realizing that he'd probably kept Ethan waiting. Great, now he just looked like a jerk.

   He practically sprinted down the stairs, only stopping when he reached the school doors.

   Wouldn't wanna look desperate, remember?

   When Vincent stepped outside, Ethan had already been inside his black Audi, which was parked right at the entrance.

   Vincent didn't have time to react, because Ethan had already exited the car and was gripping the other boy's shoulders frantically.

   Ethan's eyes were wide, a panicked expression making them look darker. "Where the hell were you? I've been waiting out here forever. I went upstairs to look for you, and you weren't in the classroom. Do you know how fucking worried I was? I called Mason and asked him to call Macey. That's your friend, right? Oh my god, Vincent. Why do you have to be so stupid?" 

   To say Vincent was shocked at the outburst would be an understatement. On one hand, he felt so bad for making Ethan worry that he wanted to cry. On the other, watching Ethan so hysterical made him want to laugh.

   Other than that, a tiny part of him wanted to just hug the life out of Ethan because he couldn't believe he actually cared so much.

   But, of course, Vincent didn't do any of those things. Instead, he settled for smiling sheepishly. "I'm really sorry, Ethan. I didn't know when practice would be over so I hung out in the library and read a little bit. Guess I got carried away?"

   Of course Vincent wasn't going to tell him he'd spent the whole time in the bathroom. That would just be weird.

   Ethan's eyes softened, and his shoulders visibly relaxed. As if not meaning to look so worried, Ethan's demeanor instantly shifted.

   They got into the car, but before Vincent could even fasten his seatbelt, Ethan was shoving a smartphone in his face.

   "Give me your number," he demanded.

   Vincent raised an eyebrow. "At least buy me dinner first."

   Ethan rolled his eyes. "Just do it, will you? I need to have your number so I can call you if something like this happens again. I don't need to be having a major freak out every time you decide to be irresponsible and stupid."

   Vincent couldn't find it in him to take offense, so he just shrugged and punched his number into the phone.

   Ethan took it from him, scoffing as he scanned the screen. "You seriously set your contact as Van Gogh?" he tried to keep the amusement out of his tone, but failed miserably.

   Vincent grinned. "Well, it's all your ever call me, so I figured you'd like it," he teased.

   Ethan smirked, rolling his eyes.

   "That's cute, Van Gogh."