"Jesus Christ, Tommo, would it kill you to smile," I muttered, scrolling through the photos April had taken from my birthday party last week.
"I had just burned my arm on the grill, be glad I wasn't cursing," he said, directing a glare my way as he collected his phone from me.
"Hey!" I yelled, attempting to retrieve the device only to earn a weirded out look from him. "I was using that."
"You have your own phone, which has almost buzzed itself off the table by the way," Tommo offered a pointed look at my phone which chose that exact moment to vibrate again and drop onto the grass below us. It was study period and I had convinced Tommo to spend it outside, purely due to it being something I was coming to realize I never did and completely unrelated to avoiding Spencer.
Who was currently attempting to call me.
The closer we came to opening night, the more frantic his messages and general behavior had become. We had been kicked out of the library on Tuesday when he shook his legs hard enough to rattle a screw loose on the shelf behind him, resulting in a tidal wave of encyclopedia's hitting the ground and startling everyone in a forty-foot radius.
"I'm sure it's unimportant, most likely telemarketers," I waved it off, ducking to collect my phone and ignoring Tommo's eye roll as he uncapped a highlighter with his teeth and went on studying. "But serious, smiling in one photo won't kill you."
Tommo grunted back.
"I get it, you caveman. You no like flash." I deadpanned, going so far as to slam my chest with my fists.
"You stupid. Will get us both suspended if keep making noise." Tommo parroted back, checking his phone with a grimace.
"What's up?" I asked and he huffed, flashing the screen my way quickly then tucking it into his hoodie's pocket.
"Mom's reminding me I still haven't picked up my shirt for the dance from the dry cleaners."
I stared back at him in surprise. "Oh, you're actually going to that?"
"Yeah, kind of have to. Guys on the team will roast the shit out of me if I flake. Plus I promised Clark I'd streak with him since Jameson broke his ankle last week."
"You've got a date to the dance?" I asked, ignoring his mention of Clark, who was another reason I was avoiding my phone. The guy had grown nostalgic since the party, his texts flashback's to memories both good and bad, as if trying to prove that this 'hiccup' in our friendship was not the mountain I was making it out to be.
"If this is your way of asking me to the dance, I am extremely flattered but will kindly decline the offer," Tommo responded, slamming shut his textbook. "And like always I don't think I can get anything done. You are the worst influence."
"Is it my sunny demeanor or devastatingly good looks?"
"I'll pass on answering that one," he responded drily, packing his things. "I'll see you tomorrow. Wish you luck before the performance since I probably won't see you till Monday."
I went to respond when a pair of hands landed on my shoulders. I jolted, swiveling my head back to make out grey eyes and black hair. Looked like avoiding Spencer wasn't in the cards.
"Just the boys I was looking for." He said, dropping his hands as he threw a warm grin at Tommo.
"I promised Julius we'd meet up before lunch. You two try not to get into any more trouble," Tommo warned, hoisting his bag over his shoulder as he stood up.
"Me, trouble? Never," Spencer bluffed, slipping onto the bench beside me as Tommo walked away. Tugging his bag onto his lap, he pulled out a delightful smelling sandwich and began slowly unwrapping it.
"I'll give you half, don't worry," he promised as he caught me eyeing the thing.
"Fair trade for the way you've been filling my phone's memory capacity. I had to delete my kitten gifs because of you," I feigned annoyance, scooping up my half of the sandwich. Biting into it I blushed at the groan I let out.
"That was downright indecent," Spencer remarked, swallowing his own bite gracelessly. "But sorry about the kittens. Just been a little nervous. Gillian's friends convinced her to come to the dance so I've been running around all day trying to get tickets. Managed to, thank god, but now I owe Vanessa Myers a favor."
"Tough break," I winced in sympathy, forcing my eyes to stay on my food as Spencer's tongue darted out to wet his lips.
Lips I would be kissing in just over twenty-four hours.
I shut my eyes.
God, give me strength since you won't let me avoid the guy until curtain call.
"You've got mayo on your face," Spencer commented, gesturing vaguely to a spot on his face. I swiped a hand on my cheek and he chuckled. "Jesus, you have no hand-eye coordination."
I sputtered when Spencer swiped a finger down my chin, flicking a blow of mayo to the grass in a way that did not make my mind go to dark places. Dark, sensual places that made me sure God hated me.
"You good?" Spencer asked through a mouthful of bread and I nodded, dropping my gaze to the wooden table before me.
Okay, let's not think about wood, time to stare at the trees.
Still wood.
Jesus Christ, brain, what the fuck was wrong with you?
"Bella called me yesterday, said she sold out tomorrow's show. All her theatre friends are coming along since apparently the promise of me in tights is hilarious enough to sit through two hours of bad acting," Spencer scoffed, though it was undermined by the psychotic way his leg started to spasm under the table.
"You saying my acting's bad?" I gasped, faking offense and Spencer rolled his eyes, butting my shoulder.
"Next to Astrid, you're practically Robert DeNiro."
"Still offended," I said, returning to my sandwich but when Spencer's shaking skirted my elbow off the table and resulted in the thing becoming a heap on the ground I turned to him with a sigh.
"You need to chill out," I told him, grabbing his thigh in an attempt to stop the shaking.
"Sorry, it's just the dance and the play and the kiss and exams coming up. It's just a lot all at once. And I'm really trying to be cool with it, but... it doesn't matter." Spencer said, a wall going up so quickly I would've missed it had it not been for the sudden shock of blue in his eyes.
"What's Gillian wearing to the dance by the way?" I asked, redirecting the topic and stopping myself from asking yet again why kissing another guy triggered Spencer so heavily. Part of me wanted to ask Bella, but that meant breaking Spencer's trust and I couldn't do that.
"Fuchsia," Spencer answered, tone as relieved as his smile was. I let my eyes linger on the quirked end of his lip for a little longer than I should've before meeting his eyes as he continued talking. "That's as much as she told me. Made me promise to wear a matching tie."
"No one dresses to theme do they?" I chuckled, flexing my hand only to realize it was still gripping Spencer's leg.
"Sorry," I muttered, flustered.
"Don't worry about it," Spencer said, off-handed as he reached down to squeeze my wrist and I felt a shock go down my spine at the contact. "I asked if she wanted to but she said the last thing she wanted were cheesy photos. But then again, I say there's nothing more cheesy than photos from a school dance. And I told her as much, but that just made her angry since her school doesn't do dances and this was important to her, so that was a fun phone call, getting torn a new one while on break. Meanwhile, I returned to find Debbie had dropped an entire tray of cold cuts in the middle of the store... and I'm rambling again. Sorry. Stress... and I downed four cans of Monster this morning in an attempt to stay awake during Lit. Lolita is way less interesting when a seventy-four-year-old man is analyzing it at a glacial pace."
"Right," I said in the beat of silence that followed, not entirely sure what just happened but somewhat aware I was witnessing Spencer having a nervous breakdown. I took the pause as a chance to finally moving my hand back to my side, noting the immediate chill that fell over it. "You're hot."
"What?" Spencer said, voice alarmed and my eyes widened when I realized the implication of my words.
"I meant, temperature-wise," I explained, groaning to myself when Spencer's face turned mildly concerned at how flustered the words came across. "You run hot. I didn't notice until now. My hand's sweating."
"Oh," Spencer said, placing a hand to his forehead, chuckling. "I think it's the energy drinks. I normally run cold, my feet like icebergs. I think I should head to the Nurse, starting to get a bit woozy and when I'm woozy I talk a lot. Mom uses it as a sign to know when I'm about to pass out."
"The more I get to know you the less you match up with the guy I first met," I told him, shaking my head as he looked over at me, head tilted in confusion. "You seemed so cold and callous, with your iron grip and refusal to smile, when really you're a giant puppy who continuous trips over its own paws."
"I'm mildly offended. I'm not a puppy," he frowned, puffing out his chest in a display of dominance. "I'm a lion. A deadly, callous lion."
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Spencer. You are a sexy, callous lion."
"Deadly," he corrected, smirking as my face grew red, and swung around on his seat in order to get up. "But I was serious about the Nurses' office. Right now there are four of you and only three bodies."
"You sure you only drank energy drinks?" I asked, packing my things. "I'll walk you there."
The bell rang then, signaling the end of the period and Spencer waved me off.
"Enjoy your lunch. I'm gonna lay down, hopefully, get my head on straight by fifth period. I'll catch you Friday, Beau, unless you decide to crash the dance."
"If I do, look for the guy in bell-bottoms and a bad wig," I promised and he chuckled.
"Good, then we'll be matching," he said, staggering back to the front doors. I waited until they clapped shut behind him before slamming my head onto the tabletop.
"Why can't you have one normal conversation." I scolded myself, sitting up to finish packing then headed to the cafeteria.
Spotting Julius and Tommo I dumped my bag at their table before entering the line to get food. I grabbed a pack of chips that I knew Tommo was most likely going to swipe, a bottle of water, and the least offensive looking pre-packed meal that happened to be a chicken salad. Dumping my tray onto the table I didn't even blink before Tommo's hand darted out, swiping the chips.
"They didn't have the barbecue ones?" He asked, popping the packet open.
I fixed him a look. "I don't think you get to be picky since they were mine first."
"Whatever," Tommo shrugged.
"Coach told me to warn you scouts will be swinging by the race on Monday," Julius said, stabbing at a carton filled with greasy pasta as he addressed Tommo. My stomach roiled as he brought the red sauce covered strings to his mouth and I made a mental note to text Mom later to check what was for dinner.
"Shit," Tommo replied, a flash of panic in his eyes. "You free to practice this weekend?"
"I can on Sunday. Saturday I promised Mitchell I'd help him with a restoration project. He says if I do well I might be able to get a job at the garage part-time after graduation."
"Even the thought of graduation makes my guts tense up," Tommo shuddered, flicking me a look. "You send in your college applications yet?"
I shook my head, pushing my food around when Tommo's face grew concerned.
"The deadline's coming up man. You'll get waitlisted if you put it off any longer." Julius added, earning a nudge from Tommo.
"Let's see if I even make it through exams first, then I'll worry about college," I said, shrugging it off. The pair exchanged a glance before redirecting the conversation to the dance.
"Bummer you can't make it, man. You're breaking tradition," Julius claimed, throwing a wadded up tissue at me.
I batted it away, laughing. "Fuck off. All I ever did was play lookout for you and Clark, never even got to dance."
"And what a fine lookout you made," Julius raised his can to me in a toast. "No finer man for the job."
"I'm sure you guys will manage to get people drunk without me," I remarked, slamming the lid back on my salad. "This stuff is terrible."
"Wanna skip last period, head down to Diana's? The half-off breakfast menu is still running," Julius offered, throwing a grin to Tommo who pursed his lips.
"I'm not ditching," he said firmly, returning his attention to the near-empty bag of chips.
"Why am I not surprised?" Julius said through an eye roll, running a finger along his mustache as he checked his phone. It had grown out some, matched by a patchy beard that clashed with the olive tone of his skin. "Clark and Romeo are already on their way there. What do you say, Beau?"
I shook my head, unscrewing the top of my water bottle. "I can't afford to fall behind at this point. Raincheck?"
Standing up, Julius stretched before leaving the table. "I'll hold you to that."
Ignoring the feeling of Tommo boring holes into my head, I finished off my bottle of water and we both mutually agreed to ignore the elephant in the room until the bell rang. Cruising through my last class I biked home quickly, ignoring April who waited by the front door, and immediately went to my room. I glanced at the calendar and blanched when I saw graduation was less than three months away. I ran my eyes over the cluster of college brochures that had begun to collect dust. Gathering them in my hands I left my room, walking directly into the living room.
Flemming laid across the end of the main couch, head bobbing to whatever music he had blaring from his headphones as he leisurely read. Dropping down next to him I ignored his confused look, dumping the brochures onto his chest and muttering two words I never thought I'd ever say to him.
"Help me."