Roland met Aspen at her locker after school, his thumbs hooked through his backpack straps. Aspen perked her eyebrows as she entered her combination. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked in amusement, her eyes focused on the books she was shoving into her locker.
Roland scrunched his face up as he held onto the bottom of her locker's door, absentmindedly pushing it back and forth. "You may not be calling it a pleasure in ten seconds." There was a bitterness to his tone that was unnatural and somewhat alarmed Aspen.
"What makes you say that?" she asked as she took a small step back. Seeing that she was finished, Roland pushed the door closed with an open palm. His movements were jittery and gentle, reminding Aspen of a small child. When he remained quiet, Aspen snapped her fingers under his nose. "Roland. You're gonna have to talk to me here, buddy."
Roland made a face at her before allowing a small smile to unfold onto his lips. He tugged on his backpack straps anxiously. "This is kinda embarrassing but... you know that English assignment we got today?" he asked with a lopsided smile. When Aspen nodded, he sucked a deep breath in through gritted teeth. "Yeah. Uh, I kinda don't know what rhetorical devices are or how we're supposed to apply them to poetry."
Aspen couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her as she examined his innocent expression. Her laughter made him smile, but he quickly covered his amusement with feigned anger. "If you could not laugh at my struggles, that would be great," he joked.
"Sorry, sorry," Aspen mumbled through giggles. When she contained herself, she sent him an apologetic smile. She was somewhat expecting him to be genuinely upset, but she was instead met with his doting smile. "So what does your rhetorical device trouble have to do with me?" she asked, though she felt that she knew the answer.
He gave her a blank look, as if he couldn't tell if she were joking or not. "Uh, I mean, you're kind of an English wizard, and also every single essay you've ever written has been a perfect paper," he complimented, chuckling when she rolled her eyes. "And also you're my friend and I need your help?" he finally tried.
Aspen smiled at that, giving him a nod. "There you go. See how easy it is to get right to the point?" she teased, nearly grinning when she noticed the embarrassed blush that reddened his face. It was rare for Roland to get flustered, so his friends took great pride in every single blundering moment. Peter was never successful, seeing as how Roland had been dealing with his idiocy for far too long to be surprised by anything. Aspen, however, found that teasing her handsome friend was far easier than she expected.
"Whatever," Roland huffed. He was clearly trying to act offended, but the grin on his lips betrayed him. He bit his lower lip, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. "So? Will you help me?" he asked eagerly.
Aspen studied his anticipation for an elongated moment, allowing his question to hang in the air. She had no intention of turning him down, but she was getting quite the kick out of watching him bounce on the balls of his feet like an excited child. She finally reached over to nudge his arm. "Of course I'll help you, you idiot," she assured with a smile.
The grin on his face widened -- something that Aspen didn't think was possible. "You're the best, Asp," he declared gratefully.
Aspen shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, I know," she teased smugly. Roland rolled his eyes, but his smile didn't waver.
After a short moment, a new expression fell onto Roland's face. He looked as though he had something else to say, but his lips remained pressed together. Before he got a chance to really decide if he wanted to speak, someone cleared their throat. Both Aspen and Roland turned, their eyes finding an awkward-looking Charlie Conway. Charlie scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, uh..." he held up the notebook that he held in his hand, "Elle asked if I would hand this off to you before practice."
He held the notebook out to Aspen, who paused for a moment before she realized what it was. "Oh God, obviously," she chuckled, more at her own absentmindedness than anything. She gratefully took the notebook out of Charlie's hands. "I totally forgot that I lent her my French work. Some day I've had, geez," she muttered, shaking her head exasperatedly.
Both of the boys beside her gave her reassuring smiles. It wasn't until she felt her gaze flicker between them that she realized they may have not met. "Oh! Charlie, this is Roland," she introduced with a smile.
Charlie nodded at the boy, who awkwardly gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Rick's brother, right?" Charlie asked, one eyebrow perked. He was doing his very best to remain indifferent, though the resemblance between the two was almost all he could focus on.
After a moment of hesitation, Roland nodded. He cleared his throat, "Yeah, yeah."
"You don't play hockey?" Charlie asked innocently. When Roland's face reddened, he backtracked. "I just figured, since Rick is so into it-"
"Lacrosse," Roland interrupted nonchalantly. For a split second, his gaze wavered between Charlie and Aspen. A forced smile appeared on his lips as he gave Charlie his attention once more. "I've always liked lacrosse more."
Charlie nodded, a seemingly sincere smile on his face. "Cool. That's cool," he tittered neutrally. Aspen couldn't tell if she was imagining things or if the atmosphere around them had genuinely thickened tenfold. It was hard to wrap her mind around the two most nonchalant boys she knew being awkward, but that situation was without a doubt unfolding directly in front of her. She never once thought that she would have to be the mediator between Roland Riley and Charlie Conway.
Aspen's fingers absentmindedly picked at the spiral of her notebook as she scoured her brain for something to say that would alleviate the tension. When she couldn't think of anything, she turned her attention to Charlie. "Um, did Elle say why she couldn't just give this to me herself?" she asked, holding the notebook up for clarification.
Charlie's cheeks adopted a light flush as he scratched at an imaginary itch on his jawline. "She was in a rush," he said, "but she didn't really explain why. She kinda just shoved it into my arms and told me to give it to you."
A scoff escaped Aspen's lips. "Of course she did," she muttered, shaking her head at a thought that neither of the two boys understood. "She never seems to have time for us anymore." As the sentence left her mouth, she seemed to be struck by realization. She suddenly turned her attention back to Roland. "Time. What time is it?" she asked.
Roland raised his eyebrows at her for a second before glancing at the watch on his wrist. "3:23. Why?"
His response didn't at all put her to ease. Her eyes widened as her grip on her notebook tensed. "He's going to kill me," she whispered, eliciting alarmed looks from both Roland and Charlie. She gave them a grimace. "I was supposed to meet Jay like, ten minutes ago. This also may or may not be the third time this week that I've been late."
Charlie still didn't seem to understand the gravity of the situation, but Roland sent her an empathetic frown. He knew exactly how frustrated Jay got when any one of them was late to anything. It had apparently become his biggest pet peeve. "You should probably go," Roland advised. A smile appeared on his lips, "After all, if Jay kills you, who's gonna help me with my English homework?"
Aspen rolled her eyes, but smiled. "You'd survive. But you're right, I've gotta go." She sent Charlie a wide smile, her eyes shimmering in gratitude. "Thanks for the notebook. I totally would've forgotten all about it if it weren't for you," she doted.
"Of course," he answered modestly. He caught a glimpse of Roland in his peripherals and suddenly felt the urge to stand a little taller. His lips quirked upwards. "I mean, I'll take any excuse I can get to come see you."
Aspen's face immediately reddened, his comment stopping her in her tracks. He had refrained from flirting with her all week, but now here he was. She didn't dare a glance at Roland, who she was certain probably felt out of place. She also couldn't deny the fact that Charlie's comment had her heart fluttering in her chest. She couldn't decide between smiling and rolling her eyes, so she did both. "Right," she breathed, giving Charlie a pointed look that made him grin.
She patted Roland's shoulder as she slid past him. "I'll talk to you about that assignment tomorrow, Rollie," she promised. He just nodded and smiled as she walked away, leaving the two boys standing awkwardly beside each other in front of her locker.
After a brief moment of silence, Roland cleared his throat. "Uh, I know this probably doesn't mean much, but I am sorry for whatever Rick's been doing to you guys," he offered sheepishly.
Charlie's face was expressionless as he met the other boy's gaze. He stuck his tongue in his cheek as he contemplated his answer. After a moment, he shrugged. "You're right. It doesn't mean much," he said coldly.
Roland had been expecting the abrasive tone, but it didn't make him any less bothered. Every junior varsity player he had met treated him the same way. Russ wasted no time in telling him off, Luis had casted him several dirty looks, and Julie didn't seem to be very comfortable around him in class. He was honestly anticipating Charlie being the worst. He let out a sigh, "Look, I'm not Rick. I don't even talk to Rick. Whatever grudge you have with him doesn't include me."
The look on Charlie's face didn't change. "You're his brother," he deadpanned, fighting back an eye roll when confusion washed over the other boy's face. Charlie gave him a dismissive look, his distaste apparent. "I'm sure the apple can't fall far from the tree. You lost your scholarship when Buckley offered them to us, right?" Roland didn't have to answer his question -- the embarrassed flush to his cheeks spoke volumes. Charlie nodded, "Right. So I'm sure you're just as enthusiastic to see us fail as your brother is."
An exasperated breath forced its way from Roland's lips. Roland shook his head, "Man, I'm not gonna argue with you. I don't have anything against you or any of your friends. I don't need hockey in my life. But I also don't need your drama. So please, whatever fight you're fighting, leave me out of it."
Charlie scoffed lightly. "Don't worry. I wouldn't have anything to do with you if Aspen and Elle weren't so fond of you."
Roland's expression wavered for a moment. Charlie had stammered through the sentence, tacking "and Elle" onto it as though she were an afterthought -- as though Aspen was all he had really being thinking of. Realization washed over Roland as he stared at the boy across from him. A feeling that was reminiscent of seasickness settled into his stomach, forcing beads of an anxious cold sweat to prickle on his skin. He swallowed the lump that had risen into his throat. "I see. I'm sorry if us having mutual friends upsets you," he said stoically.
Charlie sucked on his teeth for a moment, his gaze studying the taller boy. He seemed to size him up considerably. He finally just shrugged nonchalantly, seemingly placated by something. "Nah. I don't think it'll be an issue," he responded blandly.
A discomfort sparked inside of Roland. All he could think about was his desire for their conversation to end. He felt as though Charlie knew far too much about him -- or at least thought he did -- and he didn't like it. He attempted to appear as collected as he possibly could. "Cool," he said calmly. He offered the boy a small nod, "I have no interest in being your enemy."
Charlie returned his nod, but didn't say anything else. Roland gave him a tight-lipped smile before stepping around him and heading down the hallway. He didn't bother glancing back at his peer, there was no need. Part of him felt that he had learned all he needed to, but a vaster part of him was left uneasy. His heart was beating unevenly, that same nausea still stuck in his stomach. Charlie's easy flirtation with Aspen had been his first hint, honestly, and their private conversation away from the girl had just solidified his assumption. He hadn't even bothered denying his feelings for her, and that perturbed Roland.
Here Charlie was, brazenly flirting with Aspen as though it was second nature. It wasn't hardly fair. Not when Roland had been going to great extents to disguise his own attraction for her in efforts to avoid an awkward ending to their friendship. He could never bring himself to do much more than offer her his undivided attention or pass along a sincere smile, and he was going to pay for it. After all that time, she was going to slip through his fingers. And he wasn't bold enough to do anything about it.
His mind clouded over as he wandered towards the back parking lot. He had made Rick wait, meaning that he would either be facing the older boy's wrath or walking home, but that was the least of his worries. He was just focused on steadying his stomach. He didn't want to have to deal with the gossip of anyone seeing him hurling behind the school.