It'd been a long day of studying, made even longer by the anticipation. Four thirty rolled around, and found Lucas slumped over his third economics essay. He'd been practicing writing them under timed conditions, but he didn't know how much good it was doing him. He kept getting distracted. He'd resorted to chewing on the end of his pen, and it was now a mangled, twisted mess.
Lucas glanced at his phone. The bus would be there in seven minutes. Six, now. He stood up, brushing non-existent dust off his shirt. Twitchy, slightly nervous movement. It was time.
Walking down the stairs, he tried to look as casual as he possibly could. Casually heading out to see some casual friends on a casual day. Down the stairs, through the living room, into the hallway, towards the front door on his very casual time leaving the house.
"Lucas?"
He froze, hand on the doorknob.
"Yes, Mom?"
"Where are you going?" She didn't sound suspicious, did she? Lucas couldn't tell.
"Out." That was too vague. He hurried to add detail. "To see Alex. And Mona. We're doing a thing."
Lucas hardly ever lied to his parents, which was probably why he was so bad at it. He'd never really had to. If anything, they probably would've wanted him to rebel a little. Sneak out. Drink, even. But 'I'm going to invite my boyfriend over to hopefully have sex with him' certainly wasn't a conversation he wanted to have with his parents. Maybe he should've practiced a lie.
"A thing? That sounds riveting." His mother laughed, and Lucas rolled his eyes. "When are you getting back?"
Lucas paused to consider it. He certainly couldn't bring Damien over while his parents were still there. "I won't be out long. When are you guys leaving?"
That wasn't subtle at all, but his mother didn't seem to notice. "In half an hour."
"Oh...uh, damn. I won't be back by then." Did he sound convincing? "What a shame."
"Have fun!" His mother called, just as the door closed behind him.
He would. Wouldn't he?
***
It wasn't hard to spot Damien and his friends. The football field was bigger than he'd remembered, a wide, green expanse that felt as vast as a lake underneath his feet, especially with Damien on the other side. They were in a tight knit little group, several guys and what looked like a girl or two. Even from this distance, he could hear laughter.
As he drew closer, he could make them out. Most of the guys he'd seen at the cliff were there, including Leon, the one who'd asked him if he was gay like he was asking about a terminal illness. Christina, April, and a long-legged girl dressed in baggy clothes he didn't recognise. He hoped April wouldn't try to set him up with someone again. It'd been a little awkward the first time, despite her good intentions, and with Damien, his boyfriend (he never got tired of calling him that), right there, it'd only be worse.
The new girl was talking to Damien, looking up at him, and even Lucas could see that she was into him. Something in her wide eyes, the laugh that lasted a little too long, the way she nudged her shoulder against his arm. Or maybe he was overthinking it.
"Your hands are so big! Look, look, mine are so much smaller."
Okay, he wasn't overthinking it. The girl looked so hopeful, too, holding up a hand with nails she'd painted with alternating pale blue and silver. Lucas felt a little flare of something, something a little sharp, a little angry, a little he's mine, back off, but he couldn't blame her. She didn't know. And Damien was very attractive, in his (definitely unbiased) opinion.
"They are." Damien said, but made no move to press his palm against her waiting hand, much to Lucas' relief.
The girl looked a little put out. But before she could try again, Lucas cleared his throat.
All eyes turned to him. He hated how they did that, heads moving as one, like a pack of wolves that had spied something particularly vulnerable. At least April was smiling.
"Lucas! Hi!" She waved, and Lucas gave her an awkward little wave in return.
"Hey." He turned to Damien. He'd promised Lucas wouldn't have to spend any time with them, and although he knew they were his friends, and hoped they weren't as bad as he feared, he couldn't help but feel uneasy around them. Maybe he was just worrying, like always. It got difficult to discern between gut instinct and his own brain tying himself in knots. "Ready to go?"
But before Damien could respond, Leon cut in. "You're going? Dude, you just got here."
"I told you I had plans." Damien said, still smiling, stepping back to stand beside Lucas.
"Yeah, but I thought you meant...y'know, with a girl. Like plans." Leon raised an eyebrow, then glanced to Lucas. "Not with him."
It was weird, being spoken about like he wasn't there. Lucas decided he didn't like it very much.
"Well, sorry to disappoint." He wasn't sorry, and he made sure it didn't sound like he was.
Leon didn't acknowledge him. "Damien, are you serious? You're leaving us to go hang out with this guy?"
Damien nodded, completely unperturbed. "Yep, pretty much. He's a good friend, I told you. What's the problem?"
Leon sucked in a breath, looking displeased. Thick, dark eyebrows were drawn down into a frown. "Dude. Come on. You know."
All of a sudden, the atmosphere shifted. Everyone seemed to be looking anywhere that wasn't Damien and Leon. Damien himself looked as at ease as ever, arms crossed, head tilted to one side, but Lucas noticed April was fidgeting, twisting the hem of her skirt in her hands.
"No, I don't know. Want to explain it?"
But Lucas knew. This was chillingly familiar.
"If you keep hanging out with him..." Leon gave Damien a very pointed look, "...alone, people are going to...think things."
Damien seemed to have realised too, because even though his smile was still firmly in place, it didn't look happy any more. It looked almost dangerous, waiting for Leon to make the wrong move.
"They're going to think what, Leon? Come on. Spit it out. I know you're not that smart, but surely even you can fucking finish a sente—"
"They're going to think you're gay."
There it was. Lucas knew it'd been coming, but it still hurt. Because Leon said it like it was an insult, because to him it probably was, and even though he didn't know Leon and didn't care what he thought of him it still made him feel slightly sick, something ugly and twisted curling in the pit of his stomach. They were watching him again. Eight pairs of eyes felt like a thousand.
And Damien would have to play along. He was closeted, he couldn't blow it. So Lucas braced himself for hearing Damien agree, laugh along with Leon, make some joke about it. Even though it'd just be a lie, a cover, it'd still hurt. Just a little.
"Okay." Damien said, looking completely unperturbed. "And?"
That wasn't what Lucas had expected. Neither had Leon.
"What do you mean, and? You've gotta realise how it looks, Damien. Like, I know you're not gay, we all know you're not gay, but it's kind of fucking weird that you're leaving us to go hang out with a gay guy. Alone."
If Lucas had been a braver man, and if Damien hadn't been closeted, he would've contemplated telling Leon it was because he wanted Damien to fuck him, if only to see the look of horror on his face. But Lucas knew that really, it was just one of those things you really wished you'd say in an argument, but never actually would. Especially because he wasn't sure how safe he would've been if Leon got angry. It wouldn't get violent, would it? But wasn't there always that possibility? Wasn't there always something behind those words, the barest hint of what could happen if he was too loud, too obvious, said too much, told the wrong person? The hint of what had happened, countless times before?
"Jesus Christ, Leon. I told you, he's a friend. You're the only one who gives a shit about this."
"Nah, I'm just the only one who'll say it." And Lucas saw something flicker across Damien's face, something too close to fear, as he glanced to the others in the group. How many of them felt this way, Lucas wondered. Was Leon a lone outsider? Or saying what they were all too afraid to say? "And he's not even, like, subtle about it. It's weird, y'know?"
"Leon, seriously, this isn't—"
"It's fine, April." She fell silent as Damien waved her defence away. "No, Leon, I don't fucking know. Because you're talking out of your fucking ass. So drop it."
It sounded like a warning. A warning Leon ignored.
"It's weird because he's obviously got some gay little crush on you, or something, and if you're not careful he'll..." Leon glanced down, looking slightly uncomfortable. "...do something."
"I'll what?" Lucas had had enough. "You know I can hear you, right? I'm standing right here. If you're going to be homophobic, you might as well say it to my face. Tell me how I'm the goddamn predatory gay man, because that's so incredibly original. Nobody's ever tried that one before." He was speaking far louder than he'd meant to. Even Damien looked a little surprised.
"Woah, hold on. I'm not being homophobic. I'm not homophobic. You can do your own...thing, I'm just saying it'll look like he's gay if he hangs out with you. That's a fact. And it's kind of weird that he even wants to hang out with you, because you're—"
"I'm what?" Lucas felt so angry. Angry enough that there were tears pricking his eyes, but he couldn't let them fall. He couldn't cry, not in front of them, because tears of rage would still be tears, would leave him seeming weak and hysterical. Exactly what Leon already thought, no doubt. "Are you going to call me a slur? Is that it?"
For the first time, Leon turned his full attention on Lucas. "Fucking hell, do you ever just shut the fuck up?"
"Don't talk to him like that." Damien cut in. He sounded calm again. Too calm. "I think you should leave, okay? Before you get hurt." He was still smiling. It was unnerving. Like the eerie silence before the chaos of the storm.
"Leon." Someone else said. Lucas didn't glance to see who it was. "Not now, yeah? This isn't what we meant."
Leon didn't listen. His pale blue eyes were fixed on Damien's face. "Are you threatening me? Over him?" And then Leon's eyes widened. And Lucas could see it, as if it'd been scrawled across his forehead. He knew. "Oh my god. No fucking way, are you actually...?"
He moved towards Damien, and without thinking, Lucas stepped between them. It was a bad idea. Leon was a good deal bigger than him, and wore a curdling mix of disgust and anger that meant that even as Lucas stepped forward he knew he was in danger, knew that this wouldn't end well. His heart was beating very fast. He felt a little light-headed. This wasn't a plan. He didn't have a plan. All he knew was that Leon might hurt Damien, was hurting Damien, and that he had to stop that. He couldn't let Damien face this alone.
"Get out of the way."
"No."
He's going to hit me. Something panicked screamed in the back of his mind. Everything was simultaneously too fast and too slow. He should run. He didn't.
"I said, get out of my fucking way."
"No." He was having trouble finding the right words. Finding any words. "Go fuck yourself."
Well, those were certainly some words.
Leon's face twisted into a snarl. He drew his fist back.
"Leon, no!" A voice. He didn't know who.
Lucas could hear his own heartbeat. He'd never been punched before. He hoped it wouldn't hurt too badly. It would.
"Fine, you little fucking fa—"
Smack.
Leon's head snapped back. A spray of blood flew upwards in a crimson arc as he stumbled, feet scrambling for purchase on the grassy field. Before he could recover, Damien was on him. He punched him again. And again. And again. When his fist connected, Lucas heard something give a sickening crunch, bone and blood and flesh crumpling under Damien's fist. Leon's hair had fallen over his eyes, but he struck out wildly, and Lucas saw Damien recoil, clutching his face. It was all happening too fast, a blur of movement Lucas was too stunned to follow. Someone – April, Lucas thought, but couldn't be sure – screamed.
"Get him off! Oh, god, Vinnie, get him off!"
Eventually, they were pulled apart. Leon was breathing hard, blood trickling in a slow, sticky rivulet from his nose. Damien shoved the boy who'd pulled him away, and wiped a smear of lurid red blood from his lip. His hair hung over his face.
"I'm leaving." He said. His voice was low and rough, but in the silence that surrounded the group it was loud and clear. "Does anyone else have a problem with that? Or with Lucas?" The silence held. Even the air was still. Damien huffed out something like a laugh, though there was no humour in it. "I didn't fucking think so."