"Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asked. "This isn't for everyone and I never thought you as the type of guy to use this."
"What else do I have?" I asked. "I can't keep going back to Oliver with the same bullshit like I'm going through a midlife crisis. I can't go to my parents... and Tori just isn't enough anymore..."
His eyes reflected how broken my patience was, how the little shards were the very thing keeping me together. Keeping my sanity and calmness intact. "You have Thomas... he's there for you." They now reflected the light of hope I had, another being comparable to my sister. After all, he was her true twin.
A whole story untouched by his ears made the simple gesture of looking in my guy's eyes difficult every time. "And yet I still can't bring myself to tell him. I don't know how. I just need..." I breathed. "A relaxant. College is stressful enough with midterms being over and exams starting – I just came from the library because I needed a book for one of my Psychology classes. My father thought it was a good fucking idea adding Shane to our father-son Saturdays... I couldn't tell him how uncomfortable I was. I couldn't go back so I lied straight to his face yet again."
For the past couple of weeks back in November, stress had been burning the walls of not just my patience, but my anger. It'd been burning it down for quite some time and nothing out there eased the pain. Yeah, not even Thomas or Tori or Chris could. Migraines for two days. Headaches the next. Strained muscles clenching. Where else could I turn?
"Now he goes with Shane without knowing the real reason I quit going. And my friends... their pissing me off because I can't just have a single minute alone with my guy. We haven't even gone on our first real date yet so I don't know when that's happening or if I'm stressing for no god damn reason," I added. He seemed to contemplate all my stress thrown his way. "With every day practices for Football now... you're the only person I got right now..."
I vented a lot of my stress and anger out to him and the first time I saw him use it, I knew he had something to help me cope with my anger. Just back in October he and I met. Now here we were and how our relationship formed a bond.
An uncomfortable shift wafted through him and his lips stuttered. "... Didn't Thomas hate when Leone did this? Why would you risk that?"
Was it a risk if he knew nothing of it? "He hated how Kayla forced him to do it. Thomas knows the pros far outweigh the cons and even if he hated it... then... then I don't fucking care because I need it," I said. No damn risk here. Nothing the doctors would prescribe me would work; they failed all before. "It's not like he's ever going to know. So, come on, don't give me shitty lectures. Do this for me, Andrew..."
A slow breath at first, he met my eyes again. "... Okay. Whatever you need, man. I'm here for you."
So ever since my first puff... all the gutter my mind hoarded cleared. Things brightened through my vision, the outlook in mind more open, the flaws vacant. Then the second time around, peace felt more align with me and being relaxed never felt more satisfying than I've been around Thomas or my annoying friends.
The third time... this hit the spot. This worked. A relaxant and it sure did its fucking job. What was Andrew so worried about? I've been cleaning my clothes, ridden the smell for when I'd be around Thomas and the guys. Since the vigorous winter air came into play, masking the horrid scent came easy as if I was doing Archery.
A free mind, nothing on my nerves. My love for it had no words.
A whisper of a siren drew from the distance and I checked my rear-view mirror and spotted the patterned blue and red lights. Closer and closer the sound blared and reverberated through the car, assaulting my ears. Here came the damn headaches now.
As the cop car pulled up behind me, my eyes questioned the act through the mirror. Why the hell was I being pulled over? Aside from that I obliged and pulled off to the side, watching the cop car park close behind. In anticipation and expectance, I rolled my window down and heard the faint cracks of rocks behind me. Every step it got louder and louder and when uniform arms crossed my gaze, I looked out and up at... Leone?
"Figured," he first said, a hushed tone. "I didn't think it'd actually be you – thought it was someone else's car." Looked like he got his dream job or was still in straining. This late, at that. Good for him he accomplished something in life.
"So are you gonna tell me why you pulled me over?"
"First you could stop with the smug look and attitude," he replied. "Second, I need you to get out of the car, please." Obedient, I listened. "Have you been drinking? Smoking? Can you show me some ID, please?" Wow, hearing him talk all professional with a demanding voice took me back. But the questions, they perplexed me.
"What?"
"Chance... have you been drinking and smoking? You were speeding."
I wasn't speeding. "I wasn't speeding and I'm not drunk or high."
A soft hum came from him as his eyes studied me, as if assuring his thoughts. "You are high. I think I'd know and yes you were speeding. A 90 over 60 on a one way street," he explained. "I need to you please put your hands up and over the back of your head and face your car."
"So you could cuff me and throw me in a cell for something I wasn't doing? Fuck that." What a bastard. "Just ticket me for speeding."
His nose started flaring, those eyebrows dwindled in an arc and his right hand reached to his side. "Chance... don't make it hard. C'mon. Cooperate." So what did he think he was gonna do? This is what was called a privilege; overthrown for those above the law. The same ones enforcing it.
A simple object gave him a privilege over me. Retarded.
His persistent presence boiled my veins and reddened my face from the way it felt. Was this what Thomas had to deal with? Shit. "Tell me what I really did then I'll cooperate," I said. "I bet you're just doing this to spite me.
A heavy huff left his lips before he approached me, latching onto my hand and spun me around and over my hood. Strong he was but I didn't do any wrong. Considering it was Leone himself and I've wanted to knock the bastard for a long while, I kicked him back, turned and flew a strong, balled fist at his temple.
He staggered back but regained a few seconds of consciousness and stood two feet steady on the ground. He reached to his side and pulled his gun on me, simple privilege, like he viewed me as one of those savages behind bars. The fear and readiness to pull the damn trigger were shown in his eyes. Talk about a league out for their people, serving their people, seeing all as innocent until the first crime.
A part of me, deep down inside, wished he did.
"Hey!" a deep voice drawled from the shadows, behind the open driver's side of the cop car. He edged out in front of the lights, a bigger guy than Leone. "Guns are not used on stubborn, disobedient high men. Do you understand?" It should never be used on the innocent, either. But a fucking drunk? I'd think I'd know if I was and high.
Leone withdrew the gun back in his duty rig and there went up my hands. A complete dumbass I'd make of myself if I messed with his partner who could take me out with those powerhouse arms of his. So as Leone cuffed me over my car hood, he did wonder one thing. A string of curiosity evident in his voice and there wasn't an answer I could give him. If there was, I wouldn't explain it.
"What happened to you?"
Stress bit pieces, larger by the day, out of Chance, carving out individual coils in his mind. Stabbed his patience a couple of times too until he had enough. Till the frustration and anger built up and clogged most of his thoughts. Only after the pain of his stress eased and the migraines ended. It got far worse and just two weekends ago we were at Vice Beach, all giddy and enjoying our time in peace. In happiness.
Aside from a few tense moments, everything was great. Though not our date as planned, he kept it together for the sake of his mental stability. As the days went on, it looked harder for him to do so. There he sat across from me, books wide open on a mess of my bed, highlighting a few points here and there in his notebook. Though short, his hair appeared ragged and unwashed a bit. His face drained from most emotions, exact to how Tori described him as before College.
Something irked all the wrong spots in me watching him. Majority of our time we were in solitude, lending our voices for when we needed clarification on some topic like the science on Psychology, or how one's influential status had the potential to shape a person. Like how the media played a key part in what we thought as opposed to how we think.
Peaceful, yeah. Helpful, yes, but not quite right here. The uncomfortableness coiling inside was never due to the fears or the insecurities, and rather how much this hurt him mentally.
Maybe he wasn't cut out for College just yet.
My eyes peered over towards the door that began opening and through the gap came my dad. A sly smile on his face and here came more eye rolls. An arm hid itself behind his back and no questions asked did I believe it to be another condom. Yes, another condom. How right I was when he barked out his laugh, handing it to Chance who chuckled in return.
The fifteenth condom. Dad was on a roll.
"In all seriousness, I honestly came here to ask you something," he said, eyes on Chance. Chance nodded, a curious face on. "I heard you quite going with your dad to Arrow. Why?" he asked. "I kind of wanted to go again with Thomas."
Unnoticeable to my dad, Chance's shoulders tensed and his bottom lip quivered. The history between Shane and him was still a mystery and I overheard how he was invited by Arthur last weekend.
"There's just a lot going on," Chance answered. His voice an unusual soft pitch. "With school and all."
"Oh, okay." He nodded. "Understandable. I'll leave you boys to it then. Just don't make any loud noises, son, if you guys decide to throw away the books," and he left back downstairs.
Well, gee, thanks dad.
Chance's lie intrigued me, however, and got me curious on if he'd tell me the truth. "What's the real reason?"
Studying and his notebook kept his attention. "That was the real reason."
"Really?"
"Why does it matter?" His attention snapped on me now.
I sighed. "I'm just curious. Sorry."
He ran tense fingers through his hair, a little fidgety by the looks of it. "N-no... I'm sorry. "I'm just... really tense." Evident enough through how moved, acted, looked. Tense like anxiety crawled up his back, pumped his veins with small doses of adrenaline and waited for the right moment to unleash its devastating glory. And I'd be there. Helping him, coping with the fact this stress would damage him physically, emotionally and mentally as it had been building on top of another.
I understood a fraction of him... I should be glad. I had something to work with. But so much he's been through; a whole story untouched by my ears. So much anger and stress and regressed patience... I didn't know how he did it. Living through life like this and yet here he was with friends, family. With me.
Who knows what our relationship would look like in the future. Who knows how he'd be if he and Shane's unknown history were rewritten and if Bentley was alive today.
Imagine like that, where also Leone and I's history were rewritten... that... always washed through my mind...
Then there was the performance Mr. Wilson wanted to put on in school, in Henrick's theatre room. We had lines to memorize and Tori, being one of the two directors, were very strict on us learning them. I saw how annoyed with her Chance looked and yet kept himself composed.
"I don't even wanna fucking do practice..." he said, groaning quite loud. "Some type of fan game is also happening or something, I don't even know..."
A quiet sigh left my lips as I thought of my next words. "Can't you take a day off?"
"No. There's a game Friday and Coach wants us on the field, every day by 6. Who the fuck does this?" Anger dawned his eyes when they met mine, a sort of annoyed look Leone carried. I felt bad and it wasn't like I pitied him. I empathized with him even when all my stress was far less comparable to his.
Made me fell horrible for all those times I thought my life was terrible. Especially back in Midlife Crisis High School.
"He's gonna kill us any day now. All three will," he added. "Don't we have a test Monday in Social? Or is that next Tuesday?"
"Monday." My voice fell quiet. I had no words left, nothing to help him. I wasn't Tori or even Chris. I gave horrible advice and while I said I empathized with him, I wasn't close to in his shoes, knowing his pain and feelings and emotions. I understood but didn't know and a lot of people on this world didn't know the difference.
Unfortunately.
He groaned and buried his face in the palm on his hands, slouching against the bed frame. A natural feeling, a relation to instinct wafted over and my mind no longer controlled what I thought of next. A very sweet, natural feeling that I closed our books, pushed them aside and reached for him. Removing those sorrow hands and another pound of his patience readying to break. A bit dazed, he gaze intensified in mine, a calm baby clue, and his eyebrows arched in question. When he fixed himself up, sitting straight against the backboard, I leaned in for the sweet, soft seal between our lips. Baby bottom lips – that might get weird saying.
The heavenly seal bristled the little hair on my body and shivered my skin in his warmth as I cradled his lap and his hands hugged my waist. Mind laid soft touches on his face and sure did my cheeks burn.
I figured I might've had a lot of medical problems lately. Wondered when I'd get that checked out. Hopefully soon.
But as the kiss lingered on, the feelings of his stress relieved. A curve to his lips assured it. The moan in my ears realized it. I couldn't even explain why it felt like instinct, why I did it. I knew for a fact I couldn't stand watching him beat himself up over all the stress, and so quick, too.
I craved for a smile, a damning grin on his face, a dash of intimacy. We've done not more than kiss in his car or in my room – both rooms. This first real make-out session left me breathless, as cliché as it was.
This was the kind of privacy he wanted for us.
The shudder of his phone, the loud, reverberating sound snapped us out of the kiss. His sigh carried a heavy weight and his groans were low and baritone when he reached it and checked the lock screen. A notification from Tori.
"See what I mean?" he asked. "We never get peace together like this. But thank you for that... thank you."
A weak, awkward smile flashed him before I pulled myself off and sat off to the side. Watching his face contort reading the message fascinated me. Peeked an intense interest in what I never thought I was curious over. Emotions showed from the actions of the face, of our body movements. Psychology, somehow, related to that. Thinly, I think. But there were relationship, especially in Cognitive Psychology.
Wonder went through his mind. "Tori wants us back at my house," he said and well there was my answer. "She wants us to practice for the play in December."
And of course...
Rehearsing that damn play killed me. We've done too much in such a short time. Let us have a break. Please.
But of course Chance and I obliged and left, saying our byes to my family, with my dad and his ridiculous shenanigans again. Condom number sixteen, everybody. I doubted we'd have sex that many sex, I wasn't so sure when I'd be ready for it again and where did he keep those condoms? In his pockets the whole time? Did that mean him and mom...?
Aside from that, we reached the house and Tori's immediate greeting shocked us. Shooing us into the living room thereafter where the rest of our class loitered.
Nothing eye opening or ear popping happened in the next three, four hours besides the fact Tori felt the pressure of Chance's stress and beaten patience. All we've done were go over our lines, follow the directors' cues and small talk broke out a few times here and there. Jokes were prevalent, of course, but aside from that, the air pretty much mucked with tension, dread of tediousness and some form of anxiety.
Chance left into the kitchen to grab a drink and my mind mustered over whether I should've bothered him or not. Chris insisted in order to calm his nerves. That's what first popped into my mind but come on, we knew Chance better. Did I really want to push his boundaries that were obvious? No. However, I went in anyways, grabbing a drink myself because I made stupid choices.
Juice, mind you. I drank some juice.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
He leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest and a Buzlighter nipped to his lips. "Yeah, I'm fine." Those eyes panned the room and not once landed on mind. Bet they'd conveyed what they did earlier.
I went in closer and rested my head against his shoulder, practically cuddling against his side. My eyes peered up and saw a smirk brighten his dreaded look and contempt settled well with me.
"We're called it quits for now," a voice called from the entrance. Levy.
We nodded in reply and he left.
Chance's body shifted and I soon realized a warmth encased me whole. A hard chest rested against my head, so there was that. This warmth settled quite nicely and the low baritone of his laugh conveyed a level of calmness. My eyes closed, my ears trained on the collected, rhythmic beats of his heart and the serene solitude we stood in eased previous stress.
We didn't back away, not even when he asked something. "I'll walk you home, if you want?" The nod against his chest gave him my answer. Slowly, we pulled away and our bodies were still close and while mine reacted in such an awkward way, confused on whether or not this relationship would help me, I enjoyed it. My insecurities were dwindling each day. "And what are you doing Saturday? I thought we could go out. An actual date this time." He chuckled.
He planned on not enjoying himself with Arthur anymore with the inclusion of Shane and right now, I hadn't anything planned either. So why not? It'd be nice to take a day off from all the stress, from an uneventful Tuesday aside from the tests and rehearsals. Lightening up was much needed in our lives and peace together, alone, was long overdue. At least, to him it was.
Just another four days left and I prayed he lived through it. I prayed more that I lived through these damn assignments, tests and College as a whole. Can't imagine how in debt students felt. The struggle must've been too real.