A/N: ah I don't even know what to say about this chapter tbh. I just finished reading John Green's Paper Towns. I feel like I channelled a bit of John Green at some point, you'll probably know what I mean if you've read a few of his books. It was subconscious, sorry :o
When I was twelve years old, I fell in love with this boy in school that I barely ever talked to which was strange, because how could you fall for someone that you'd never really met? But he was this kid that everyone adored in class. He made people laugh and he had this adorable smile and I loved him despite not knowing him.
He was all I used to think about at twelve. I don't really think about him any more. At least, not his face. Just, sort of, the memory of him. The echo. The feelings. How strange it was. And then I think about Tyler and compare the two of them. I loved the boy in school because others loved him; I love Tyler because he can't love himself.
I stubbed the cigarette out on the pavement and fell back against the wall with a sigh. It had been two days since the fire, and I now stood outside the apartment in the cold chill of the air, thinking it all over.
It was just gone 3 a.m and I could hear a dog barking in the distance, it made the city feel a lot crueller. There was something about 3 a.m air that felt calm, and you weren't supposed to disturb that calm. The dog was disturbing it. Eventually it quietened down.
“Mitch,” I heard on my left, from the doorway of the flat. I knew it was Tyler, although I didn't look at him. I stared ahead at the wall and buried my hands in my pockets. From the corner of my eye, I saw him hop down from the step and prop himself beside me against the wall.
“Do you remember school?” I asked. I heard the flick of a lighter as Tyler lit up a cigarette. “You know, do you remember anyone specifically that you miss or something?”
“Tha' kid tha' got run over,” Tyler said, “dunno if ye saw it in th' newspapers? He wa' funny. Then he got run o'er down on south-side by some supermarket van,”
“Shit,” I said, nodding, “I remember that. You knew him?” Tyler nodded. “That's so fucked up.”
“Th' world's so fucked up,”
Four years on, and we were talking about that kid's death. I wondered if any of his friends from school still thought about him, or if they'd completely moved on and forgotten about it all, now. It was just a cycle. You're born, you're known, you die, you're forgotten and maybe, if you're lucky, you're occasionally remembered in the 3 a.m recollections of sad minds.
But I didn't think I could ever forget Tyler. It seemed impossible. And it felt like I could never die, because if I did, who would remember him? Who would fill up their entire days and nights thinking of him? Sometimes I liked to think that Tyler and I were eternal. We weren't.
“Do you think we'd have been friends if we knew each other in school?”
Tyler scoffed, “No,”
“Why?” I shot back, only now deciding to look at him, with a face of offended interest.
He smirked around his cigarette. “ 'Cause yer a bit of a geek, Mitch. An', well, am not,”
I rolled my eyes, “You think too much of yourself, you know that?” that was a lie. He didn't think enough of himself, but in moments like these it was best to leave that opinion in the dark and replace it with banter.
“I got excluded fo' smokin' weed on-site,” he grinned, proud of himself. I hated the fact that I grinned right back at him, thinking about him in a school uniform––shirt untucked and his tie askew––getting high behind buildings. The young Tyler in my mind was a lot happier than the one standing beside me. But then again, the Tyler in my mind wasn't yet a whore.
And then I looked over to my right, towards the entrance of the alley, and couldn't believe my eyes that Finn had showed up, which was something I hadn't been expecting at all.
But there he was, angrily swaying towards us with squared shoulders, as if he were ready for a fight. I didn't have the energy or the patience for him, and thinking that had me wondering what kind of a person I had become if I didn't have the patience for someone that I'd been an absolute dick to.
I owed him a few words, at least.
I felt Tyler tense beside me as Finn stopped in front of the two of us. He flexed his jaw and glanced Tyler up and down, sneering at him in the most hateful way. I exchanged an odd look with Tyler that felt a lot like I was asking for permission. Tyler licked his lips and slowly relaxed his fists that had been balled up by his sides. Permission granted, I guess.
“Finn?” I said, questioning his motives.
“Mitch,” he responded, spitting at the floor. He looked a bit on the drunk side. “Just thought I'd drop by to tell you that I'm so fucking over it all,”
“Over it all?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, stumbling slightly, “over you and your fucking drama. Fucking over feeling like a worthless fucking twat, because I can't compare with this piece of fucking shit,” he gestured towards Tyler who tensed up again beside me. I could practically hear his teeth grinding.
“You need to go home, Finn,”
“Don't tell me what I fucking need, you have no idea what I fucking need,”
I sighed. Tyler stepped forward. Instinctively, my hand reached out to grab him with the image of a fight breaking out in the forefront of my mind. Tyler spoke with a tight jaw, “If yer so fuckin' over it, then why th' fuck ar' ye here?” which was a fair point, really. I awaited Finn's answer eagerly. My chest felt like a knot of emotions winding tighter each second.
“Because...because,” Finn stumbled around, blinking away his tears and clearing his throat, he went on to say, “fuck,” and that was it. His head dropped, hanging low and he swayed so much so that Tyler––almost looking worried––reached out and caught him before he tumbled over to the ground. He manoeuvred Finn until he was against the wall, and then gently let him slump to the floor. I sat beside him. Tyler sat up on the step.
“You need to go home and sleep this off, Finn,” I said, softly.
Finn shook his head and sniffled, “I don't want to go home,” he whispered, “it's not a fucking home there. I don't want to go back.”
I looked up at Tyler, who stared back at me with an easy gaze. He didn't look angry or disgusted by Finn's presence any more. He looked like Ash. Diplomatic and calm. Compassionate. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, refocused on Finn instead. Nothing seemed right any more.
“Is it because I lied to you?” Finn whispered, burying his hands in his hair as if he'd grown shy with the question. “Cause I didn't mean to lie to you. It's like second nature, you know? Is that why you don't want me?”
This time, I didn't dare look up at Tyler. I put my hand on Finn's shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze, lowering my voice and leaning in closer to him to say, “It's got nothing to do with that, Finn. It's not that I don't want you, it's just that it isn't fair to lead you on. Especially since I can't stop thinking about you-know-who,”
“Your forbidden lover,” he muffled beneath his arms and I felt his shoulders shake with a laugh. I smirked down at the small space of concrete between us, as a blush burned up through my skin. I could feel Tyler's eyes on me. I still didn't look at him.
“Yeah,” I said.
Finn's head rose from beneath his arms and fell back against the wall, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He smirked in that adorable way of his before saying, in mock, “Guess we'll always have Paris,” and I couldn't hold back my amusement, nor the ache of sadness in my chest.
Tyler headed inside and left me and Finn to have a talk that went a little like this: “So my nose is still in tact, that's an improvement right?” he said, referring to Tyler's non-existent anger problems.
“Major improvement,” I nodded.
“Is he okay?”
“I'm not really sure. He's acting weird,”
“Weird?”
“Yeah, you know. It sort of seems like he cares. It isn't right,”
“No, that doesn't sound right. Hey, can I stay here tonight?”
“Are you kidding me, Finn?”
“Totally being serious right now,”
“You're a twat,”
“You dumped me,”
“We weren't even together,”
“You still dumped me,”
“Okay fine. One night only,”
“Thanks babe,”
“Shut up,”
And then we headed inside, bracing ourselves for Tyler's reaction. Which went a little like this: “Finn's staying the night,” and then...nothing. Nothing but a nod of the head, as he sat himself down on the sofa and lit up a cigarette. That was it. There was no disagreement. I didn't have to try and bribe him into letting Finn stay. He just nodded his head, and smoked his cigarette.
Finn raised his eyebrows at me in shock and then said, “I really need a piss,” so I pointed him towards the bathroom and he headed straight for it. Tony stirred in his sleep from where he lay in his sleeping bag. I'd switched the lights on, which was probably what disturbed him.
“What's going on?” he mumbled, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head, ruffling up his fluffy brown locks as he did.
“Finn's staying the night,” I replied. Tony was bolt upright in a second.
“What do you mean Finn's staying the night? Didn't you guys get into a fight?”
“Yeah, but we've worked it out,”
“So you're back together?”
“We were never together in the first place. We're just friends and he's just staying for one night, okay? Go back to sleep,” he didn't go back to sleep. He got up and threw himself into the sofa beside Tyler, going halves on the cigarette he was smoking.
When Finn returned from the bathroom, we sat together on my sleeping bag, side by side against the wall. It wasn't big enough for the both of us to sit on, so we had one leg outstretched along the sleeping bag, and the other on the carpet. There was a cold chill in the air, so I gave Finn one of my sweaters to pull over his t-shirt.
I would have expected it to feel awkward, but it didn't. We all sat there in a serene silence that didn't need breaking. It was calming. Although Tyler was smoking more than he usually did. Tyler wasn't a chain-smoker, but if a stranger were to walk in right now, he'd probably be assumed one.
I wondered if it bothered him. Tyler, I mean. If the proximity of mine and Finn's bodies bothered him. We were leant against each other, the right of my body in line with Finn's left, pressed up against each other at every possible point; from elbows; to hips; to knees; to ankles. I wondered if it bothered Tyler, but it probably didn't.
“Did something happen with you and your mum?” I asked Finn in a whisper, once I was sure he'd sobered up a bit. Finn rolled his bottom lip between his teeth and shook his head.
“No, I just really hate it there. Constantly listening to her and Maleek shagging on the sofa. It isn't fair on Carter, and it isn't fair on me,” I nodded, trying to show that I understood despite the fact that I didn't. “Maleek's an ass. I wish he'd fuck off,”
“Doesn't your mum love him?”
“No,” Finn scoffed, “she's only with him because sometimes she can get money off him. But I guess now that he's got her pregnant, he isn't going to be leaving any time soon,”
“Shit, yeah, I forgot about that,”
“Another half-sibling to take care of,” he feigned enthusiasm. “God, I need to move out of there. I need my own life. I'm eighteen, I can't be stuck living with my mum forever, you know?”
I almost suggested it. I almost said: you could live here! But I didn't. I held it in. Tyler might be playing nice now, but if I suggested that, well, I doubt he'd be too thrilled with the idea. Thinking about it, could I really live with Finn if it came to that? If he did end up sticking around? I had feelings for him, sure, they just weren't as strong as the feelings I had for Tyler.
Living with the two of them in such a small apartment. Shit, imagine the fights and the arguments and the sex. There was an entirely different brand of excitement flooding through me at the thought of shagging Finn while Tyler was in the apartment. It was so messed up, but I still couldn't stop thinking about it. The different scenarios. They usually ended up in a threesome due to my wishful thinking.
In reality, it would probably end up with blood pouring from noses and Finn being thrown out the apartment in just his underwear. Or maybe purely naked, depending on the scenario. Maybe I was expecting too much of Tyler. Maybe if Tyler did walk in on me and Finn going at it, he wouldn't even care. Maybe he'd just turn around and forget he ever saw it.
I was bored with how things were turning out, so I did it. I went ahead and said, “You could stay here,” and Finn's face lit up at the idea of it, as if he'd been waiting for me to suggest it all along.
“Did I just hear you correctly?” Tony questioned from the sofa, across from us. “Did you just tell him he could live with us?” I smiled coyly and shrugged. Tyler didn't look the least bit impressed but he said nothing, lighting up yet another cigarette that he'd just finished rolling.
“Why? Do you have a problem with Finn?” I asked Tony directly. His cheeks reddened a little.
“It's just a bit awkward considering, you know, I've shagged him, you've shagged him, Tyler hates the little prick and all you can think about is shagging Tyler. I don't know, it's just a bit complicated, isn't it? It's a bit, uh, how can I put this, daring,”
“Daring?” I chuckled, avoiding eye contact with Tyler and instead glancing at Finn who shrugged at me with a humoured look on his face.
“Daring.” Tony finalised. “I feel like we're setting ourselves up for a murder plot. Finn will be the victim, obviously, and Tyler the murderer,”
“Obviously,” I said.
Tony smirked, “I'm the guy that comes back to find Tyler murdering Finn,”
“And I'm the motive,” I said, feeling slightly full of myself. We all shared a mutual expression of amusement––spare for Tyler, who acted like he was more interested in his cigarette––before settling back into that strangely comfortable silence. Maybe Finn living with us wouldn't be so bad. It might liven things up a little. We definitely needed a bit of that.