"AVERY RAMOS DOES NOT REGRET HIS ACTIONS."
That is a nice start to introduce most of my experience. That I do not regret my actions. And it is not the case that I am the person who only does the right things, little mister perfect. No, that was my crush from seventh grade and we are not going to talk about him. I make mistakes and I am a certified asshole for more than a few things. But I own the consequences of my actions. And normally, the risk of a particular action is pretty calculated. For example, if I cheat on a test and the teachers call my mom when I get caught, my older sister will make up an excuse and guilt the teachers into pitying me. Or if I come home drunk and late at night, my sister will let me off with a few scoldings and probably cut pizza for a week, which is fair.
My sister does a lot for me. She might be just nine years older than me, but she has taken care of me more than our mother has. I do not even think it is fair to say "our" but whatever. Val, aka Vanilla, aka Valerie, aka my lovely older sister, asks me to be pleasant to mom for dropping in-between months to check if we are alive or not. And also she threatens to cut off my monthly pocket money and it is not like I get paid well from the part-time job I have. She cooks food on my demand every day even though as a junior resident, she is overtired most of the time. She helps me with my homework, listens to me complain about school and people without showing any form of irritation. And trust me, I am one of the most annoying guys in the town. I will not stop bragging or talking, it is one of my favourite things about myself.
Of course, there are times when my strength becomes my weakness and I accidentally tell my sister about how I sneaked to a party and she was snoring so loud that she did not even notice. Things did not end well for me that day, but I deserved it. She gave me a glare for two days and kissed my forehead, pulled my ears hard before telling me to take care of myself. Then asks me about the hickeys on my neck. (For which I specifically tell my hookups to not give me marks where people can see). No one can be as sweet as her. Vanilla Valeria has also sneaked to loads of parties before when dad was with us and not in wherever he is now. So even if she sees me sneaking out, she does not say much.
Again, the coolest sister ever. Even if she might look like the most boring person alive.
Here is something that is pretty usual after sneaking out and I almost regret it every time. But it is my human tendency to fuck things up, stir drama or the school will be too boring. Mostly I know what I do, I know the shit and I know the side effects to it but sometimes alcohol does not prefer to give me enough time to calculate the risk. Sometimes at the moment, I drink a little more than I can handle. Like one time I threw up all over Ashley and she made me pay for dry cleaning or when I accidentally kissed my best friend's ex-boyfriend or when I almost skinny-dipped in Nolan Santiago's pool and threw the cake into it as an apology to my best friend.
But regret punches my stomach like a school bully at an ungodly hour of four in the morning. Like everyone needs someone to blame a situation they created on their own, the blame of all this mess goes to Sierra who made me play beer pong even though she knew I would lose. God, this has got to be a joke because I do not plan to wake up next to Kamil Qureshi. He lays beside me so peacefully, with velvet red hickeys showing off on his neck and fuck I messed up this time. The dim light coming from the yellow light in the passage makes me squint my eyes. Even though, in twenty per cent brightness from the wall and my phone's flashlight, Kamil's olive back glows. What the hell is wrong with me?
I am not freaking out that I did whatever I do with a boy, I have been with a handful of boys and I like it even. But it's Kamil Qureshi. A silent unspoken deal is between us from the beginning of freshman year, and it is to hate with the same passion and cut each other off in between everything. It annoys the hell out of me, and Kamil Qureshi loves that. He and his entire group of friends has a weird hobby to act as an almighty cliché high school group of preps and jocks and trust me I hate this so much.
The clothes are still on my back, and he is only shirtless. We did not do much more than make out and I need to run home before he woke up. For very fucked up reasons, I have school tomorrow and how much I know Kamil, he is going to find me from the hell hole and interrogate me about the night. Kamil Qureshi is not the type of guy to drink till alcohol fills his veins, and spend the night with the guy he dislikes. I did not expect him to surprise me like so.
Avery Ramos might not regret his action but he knows that he fucks up from time to time.
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NO, BECAUSE WHO THE FUCK GAVE PERMISSION TO KAMIL TO BURN HOLES IN MY SOUL. And in history lecture, it is quite iconic for him to judge me. It is clear he does not use the whole dialectics method over my character, but he is not the only one to think from one perspective. He sits behind me and clicks his pen continuously. His long nails scratch the desk in a very annoying manner, and if it was not for Elliot holding my hand, I would have punched his face in.
I squeeze Elliot's hand in anger, she rolls her eyes in frustration. Wow. Elliot might be my friend but she sides with every single person except me. Name one time that she agreed that I was right. Let it be seventh-grade bullying or the reason I do not have many friends like her. It is always my fault. Elliot might be the most judgemental person in the entire room, a hypocrite but at the end of the day, my best friend. She tells me it is stupid to fight him, that it will only cause a scene. (Sometimes, Elliot is right.) She leans back in her chair and politely asks Kamil to stop clicking his pen. For god's sake, he stops muttering a small sorry.
His voice brings back memories and it becomes harder to ignore him. Shut the hell up and kiss me. (He said.) Kamil Qureshi was very fucked up last night. I remembered tasting bitter alcohol and it surprises me that he drank so much. Kamil is a good boy who completes his notes on time, he is always prepared for a quiz, writes extra questions during exams, a teacher's pet twenty-four by seven and for extra points, he plays lacrosse with me. And he is good. We have disliked each from the freshman year when we were asked to be lab partners and I burned his hand accidentally after he poured water all over me. Even in lacrosse, we do not play as a team, and last time we lost because of his ego.
Then how the fuck did we end up making out last night?
"Avery." He whispers with the same distaste as if saying my name is calling himself an insult and crushing his dignity. But his grey eyes look desperate, great. I already know what this is going to be.
Tell someone about last night and I will skin you alive.
Or.
Don't tell anyone what happened last night, but do you want to do it again?
I cannot tell which one is worse.
But to my surprise, he rather says, "What happened last night?"
I smirk, it is a perfect opportunity to get on his nerves. It is not easy to irritate him when his entire pack is with him, because his entire group bare their canines ready to bite anyone. But alone, he is harmless. I drop Elliot's hand and wink at her. Ms Blatt is busy writing on the blackboard as I turn to face him, "You don't remember." It is more of a statement than a question but his face turns red nonetheless.
"Most of it." His eyes dart everywhere except my face. Come on Kamil, I am not that ugly. I notice that he is wearing a turtle neck when he rubs the back of his neck. "Did we—"
"No, we did not sleep together. You can chill."
The colours on his face drain, "How are you be so calm about this?"
"Because it is not a big deal. I will not tell this to anyone, don't get so worked up. It is not like you have a partner or anything."
With a flicker of annoyance on his face, I have done it again. "Oh, of course, it is not a big deal to you. You do it every other week."
"Excuse me?"
He knows he got a reaction he wanted. Kamil smirks, "You heard what I said."
"If you have a problem, then go put it up with your friends. I fuck one each month." I add a little wink in the end for the dramatic effect.
Qureshi rests his elbows, "Keep your fuck—"
"Boy."
"Keep your fuck boy tendencies away from my friends. There are plenty of people for you to mess with."
"But what if I only like yours? Not all of them get down on their knees and beg as yours do." It is all a lie, but the way Kamil reacts I am positive he thinks I am saying the truth. I would rather be nice to my mom than even go close to his friends.
"You are such a wh—" He cuts himself short but the damage is done.
"Whore?" I scoff, "Says the guy who wears a turtleneck to hide all the hickeys I gave him." And that's the moment when I realise that I have said this too loud and every single person is staring at us. Elliot is stuffing a laugh beside me. Of course, she is amused by the entire scene.
I slowly turn to the front of the class where Ms Blatt calls out our name, "Kamil Qureshi and Avery Ramos. Meet me after the lecture."
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