Lucas
The screen of his new phone was shiny. He'd put his old phone case on it, just a plain clear case, and left it on his desk. The electronics store was stressful, even though it was more empty that it would have been had he waited until the weekend. He'd waited in the corner while one of the employees switched the SIM card, his shoulders pressed against the wall, the corner of a table digging into his leg. He'd focused on it, the pain of it, trying to ground himself, and although it didn't work that well, it was better than nothing.
Walking home, he scrolled through his photos, looking at the pictures he'd thought about while he didn't have a phone, looking at the ones he'd forgotten about.
He didn't have any new messages from Jens.
He did have messages from Kes and Jayden, messages asking him what was up and when he'd be down to hang out. (All of them were sent before Kes came by.) He had messages from Isa, similar to the ones from the guys. He had messages from Ralph, asking if he was okay, telling Lucas that he was coming back to Utrecht, asking if he needed anything, telling him Jens was worried. (Lucas's heart hurt.) He even had a message from Zoë, asking if he was okay.
When he got home, he messaged them all back, variations of I'm okay, thanks for checking on me, and smiley faces, even though he was tearing up as he pressed send. An I'll get back to you to the guys about hanging out, a love you too to Isa. An I just need some time to Ralph.
And not a single message to Jens.
But paper after paper after paper after paper filled with Jens. His face, his eyes, his hair, his nose and mouth. There were even drawing of his hands, from pictures Jens had taken as a joke after the comment Lucas made over their call. Some of the drawing he went over with pen, hearing the gentle scratching against the paper between the loud songs he listened to, some with pastels, using his finger to blend the colours messily. Some he went over with paint, soft colours washed over Jens, accidentally spilling the cup of water next to him, sticking paintbrushes behind his ear and in his hair, which he tied into a tiny ponytail to keep out of his face.
He taped some drawings to his wall above his desk, rays of light shining across them, the sunlight catching bits of metallic paint he used in Jens's eyes and earring. There were dried and dead flowers scattered in the wall, as well, flowers Lucas had been collecting for a project long forgotten, flowers that just accumulated on his desk from a habit of picking flowers and carefully placing them in whatever book he had with him in his backpack.
Other drawings were scattered across the floor, around his desk and bed, and he was careful not to step on them.
Others were crushed into balls and thrown away, into a bin, or around it if he didn't care to look at where he was throwing.
There was a softness on his face while he worked.
---
Jens
"So he hasn't texted you at all?" Aaron asked, his mouth full of food.
Jens shook his head, looking down at his own food, feeling Robbe's hand run over his back before withdrawing.
"It's okay," he said, looking back up at Aaron, "Ralph said something happened with his mom. He probably wants to be with her."
"But he hasn't say anything to you? I feel like he would still shoot you a text or something explaining," Moyo said.
"I-" Jens shrugged, sighing. "Last time--"
"Last time?" Moyo's jaw dropped and Jens cringed in disgust, seeing his food half-chewed, and reached out to push his chin up, closing his mouth.
"Yeah, he just... needed some time." He looked at them, all three of them staring back at him. "I think he might... something might be up." He didn't know how to explain it exactly, what he thought. That he thought maybe Lucas might struggle with it all, with being gay. "I don't want to push, though, you know? Let his tell me himself when he's able to."
"Yeah, but you have to push a little bit right?" Aaron said between bites. "I mean, for a relationship to work. You don't have to know everything but something that's like... I don't know, putting your relationship on hold, I feel like you should know," he finished. He shoved another forkful into his mouth.
"I agree,"Moyo said, twisting his mouth sympathetically.
Jens looked at Robbe, who nodded.
"I get why you aren't asking, the whole 'let him tell you' on his own terms and everything, but, I mean," he paused, shrugging. "He did talk to you after last time, right?"
Jens paused before, "Yeah."
"What did he say?"
"He said he panicked." Jens kicked the ground, looking out over the water, making eye contact with the Robbe staring intensely at him from the brick wall.
"Panicked..." Robbe said slowly.
They sat in silence, the sloshing of the water next to them, the scrape of plastic forks against plastic bowls.
"He's not out to his friend, except Ralph," Jens said abruptly. "Do you think that might have something to do with it?"
"Yeah, it definitely could." Robbe said, pulling his leg up and turning to look at Jens. "I mean, maybe not with his mom's situation, but... needing time? Maybe."