Chapter Text
In the ridiculous computer engineering course at the university where Zanka Nijiku studied, there was a filthy subject called ‘calculus III’ that was, in all honesty, a joke.
When the freshmen just arrived at their first year and thought, ‘Oh God, calculus and physics are going to kill me,’ or, in the following semester, after surviving all those hellish courses, ‘Oh God, linear algebra and statics are going to kill me,’—what they did not know yet was that in the third semester it would get worse. And what a third-semester student should already know, if they had even a little bit of sense, is that, regardless of the suffering in the third semester, the fourth semester will definitely be worse.
In the end, the only option was to throw yourself off a building. In Zanka's case, with his gingerly siblings and his very nice family, the only way was to sit on his square butt and endure the painful life of studying so much. It was much better to endure studying as if the rent was due in the capital than be forced to go back home. Close to his siblings, Jabber didn't even seem like such a bad roommate.
That's why, while he had his headphones on at full volume playing the greatest metal band ever seen, Calcinha Preta, he completely ignored his yapper and just replied with a few “Hm. Uhum. Ahhh. Aham. Uh’kay.” And, as always, the man talked practically to himself. Jabber had enough breath and topics for both of them, it was quite impressive. And yet, just as Zanka had gotten used to the guy, at a certain cost, Jabber had also gotten used to him. When he really wanted an answer, he just came over and tapped him on the shoulder, taking one of the headphones out of his ear. Nijiku squealed and frowned, but looked at him.
“What?!”
Jabber wasn't bothered in the least by his moody behaviour; on the contrary, he beamed, almost amused.
“There's going to be a frat party today, let's go!”
The response? A roll of the eyes.
He put the headphones back on and sighed, returning his gaze to the slides the professor had sended. Jabber, however, did not give up. This time, he was determined to get the ‘Average Joe’ away from his studies. After all, everyone knows that studying too much gets you nowhere! Even God rested on the seventh day, for fucks’ sake!
In fact, he even used that argument, but Zanka wasn't religious enough to be convinced by that type of argument. Jabber said it would be fun and that he would pay for drinks, but his roommate replied that he didn't like to drink and that noisy parties with bad music and ugly people weren't his thing. So, he asked what was his thing, and Zanka remained silent, looked at the computer screen, looked at the ceiling, and finally shrugged. As far as he was concerned, the conversation shouldn't even have started. Unfortunately, Jabber Wonger never thought for more than two minutes.
“Man, for God's sake, your life can't be all about studying! You need to have fun too, get out of this room, come on, Zanka, come on!” he insisted. He couldn't say he was surprised.
“Man, for God's sake,” Zanka repeated, doing a slightly pathetic imitation of his voice. “Leave me alone, ‘kay? I have a calculus three test on Tuesday, I need to study.”
“Damn, but today’s Friday, dude!” And all he could do was snort, and then everything was just a mess.
For a guy who was a year older and studying chemical engineering, he was way too childish. Jabber threw himself on the bed, kicked his feet, tormented him, repeated the request over and over again, even tried bribery, tried to convince him in every way possible, and when his patience was at its limit, he resorted to lying.
“I'll get you the old exams, I'm sure the professor just reuses ‘em, they're all lazy, let's go, Zanka!” This time, he just looked him up and down and sighed.
“I'm no genius, Jabber, but I know yer haven't taken this class yet.”
“Unlike you, I leave my room and meet people,” he argued. “Besides, if this class is so difficult, why haven't you talked to the TA yet?”
Nijiku tapped his fingers on the wooden desk, preferring to remain silent on the matter. Wonger saw the tips of his ears turn red and was about to completely forget about the supposed party, screw the chemistry department frat party, his roommate with pink ears and a lost puppy face? Oh, he just needed to know! But even if he had to force the information out of him, he would find out!
It turns out that ADHD is a difficult thing to deal with on a daily basis, but Zanka was more than used to it.
“Let's go to this friggin’ party, there's no theme, right?”
Well, the party was indeed themed. The 2000s, what a joke, huh...
Zanka didn't have any clothes that resembled the general aesthetic of that time, so he ended up looking like an emo, which was the closest he could get. Jabber blended in very well, though, with his lively manner and the vibrant colors of his clothes, one would wonder if he had come out of Disney Channel or any MTV music videos of that time. In any case, he was certainly much more in character than Zanka was.
Before leaving his room, he sent a message to Riyo, asking if she was going, especially since his friend was a regular at parties. Nevertheless, her response was a succinct, “obviously, duh” followed by a disbelieving mockery that he would be going. They agreed to meet at the entrance, and there she was. Reaper was wearing very tiny black shorts, a white belt, a cropped top, fishnet stockings, combat boots, red hair on pigtails, and really heavy makeup.
“Do you like it? I did it to match you!” she laughed. Zanka rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. He had applied black eyeliner to his waterline and was happy to see the detail on her.
Jabber, nosy as ever, stepped between them, put his hands on their shoulders, and began dragging them along, talking about the music and asking silly questions. Riyo was much more talkative and, thus, Nijiku managed to avoid the subject and stayed just as a passive listener. Apparently, her friend had come with a particular interest this time—a blonde senior from the physics department. Wonger knew her and said he would introduce the two of them. Riyo was excited, and Zanka was holding back from sighing with joy. If he was lucky, he could escape back to the dorms very quickly.
Especially because, as soon as they arrived in the middle of the crowd, he wanted to return to the comfort of his room asap.
First, there were too many people. Second, the music was too loud. Third, he was wrong, the songs were good this time, long live the theme party! Fourth... Zanka has terrible luck. It's a chronic case, he swears.
Imagine who was standing next to the blonde physics major? Obviously, there it was the calculus three monitor.
Tamsy Caines.
“Oh, shit, fuck me!”
When he first met the boy, Zanka was in his first semester of college, a lost freshman and, to be honest, a little scared of the academic environment and the fact that he had to take six different courses, none of which were exactly easy.
For someone like him, having just left high school, seeing someone like Tamsy Caines was like seeing an angel.
During one of the worst classes of the week, the infamous Calculus I class, there was a knock on the door, the professor interrupted the class, let a blond student in, and, luckily for everyone, they had a couple of minutes to breathe peacefully and not think about numbers. He wrote his email address on the board, said that if they needed anything, they could talk to him and he would respond as soon as he saw it. He exchanged a few words with the teacher, giggled at a silly joke, and she put her hand on his shoulder, boasting that the boy had been her student two years ago and was now a teaching assistant for the course.
Before leaving the room and saying goodbye, he added that calculus was no big deal. With a friendly smile and a very melodious, cheerful voice, he said: “There are several other courses that are worse, don't be scared right away, leave room for despair in the following years, okay?” The professor laughed, some students followed suit, and Zanka, who was already worried, became even more so.
Well, Tamsy was right. There were much worse classes, but in his first semester of college, he thought calculus and physics were going to end him.
Even before the first test, studying absurdly in advance, he was already begging for mercy and writing a desperate email to the nice angel looking guy and going to physics tutoring sessions during lunch break with absurd regularity—not that they did any good, the tutor was a weird idiot who didn't make any sense and spent more time annoying two girls than anything else. He felt a little sorry for them. Thankfully, they would say some absurd things sometimes, and every single time they left the room, they would laugh and mock the guy.
Zanka just prayed and hoped that the guy from the email would be normal, because physics was going more or less okay. Jabber Wonger, his roommate, helped him with some of the more difficult content. He was more concerned because, in his calculus class, there was a guy who was repeating that single course and, according to him, it was the worst subject in the first semester.
Zanka Nijiku didn't know if that was true or just drama, but, in fact, with the exam less than two weeks away, calculus really did seem like the worst thing in the world.
After rereading the email one last time as if he were sending it to a professor and not just a mere student, Zanka took a deep breath, sighed, entered the classroom, then, he waited.
His reply arrived as soon as he picked up his phone while walking to the university cafeteria.
Attached are the professor's slides, the homework assignments, and the exams from the last two years. Unfortunately, she changes the test every semester. If you need to ask questions in person, I can help you after 6 p.m. Good luck with your studies!
Zanka thanked him and, despite trying to do everything on his own, he only had to open one of the tests and get stuck on the second question to realize that, well, he really needed help. The date was approaching, and with so many problems with other subjects so close as well, he couldn't afford to worry about just that one.
On a random Thursday, Zanka wondered how a person's eyelashes could be so long and how a face could be so beautiful. And he was tall and blond too... It was kind of unfair.
“Hmm... I think your biggest problem is logarithms,” he said, holding his chin with his thumb and forefinger, Zanka’s notebook on the table, and the TA was looking at it, trying to find where the calculation had gone wrong.
“Word...” was the great and very intelligent answer Zanka managed to give.
Tamsy chuckled softly, got up from the chair in front of him, and, in what he thought was a malicious attack on his heart, sat down next to him, returned his notebook, and told him to redo the question from the beginning. The monitor kept an eye on him, interrupted him at the first mistake he made, and told him to continue from there after correcting it and explaining why it was wrong.
In less than an hour, Zanka had finished solving the first test perfectly and smiled almost proudly at the two pages full of shaky numbers. Next to him, the blond smirked, chuckled, apparently amused by his impressed expression, as if this was some kind of miracle. Nijiku felt his ears burn immediately and was quickly reminded that next to him was a stupidly handsome and intelligent boy. Worse, he was also older.
Call Zanka whatever you want, but that was exactly his type. And, knowing himself, and specifically knowing his luck, there was something very wrong with that boy.
Not that it mattered when Caines was so close and kept a short smile on those full lips. Zanka was only human, no one could blame him if that damn piercing begged for attention.
“It’s easier now?” Tamsy asked. Zanka stiffened his posture, nodded immediately, but then he realised the actual question, widened his eyes, and shook his head. “No?”
“I'll be alone durin’ the test, it won't be so easy without yer help, I'm sure.”
The monitor put his hand on his chin again, and from what he could tell, it was a habit of his. “Would an earpiece work? Like a spy mission!”
“But how would ‘ya see my test, then?” he joined in the joke, still a little embarrassed, but more relaxed.
Tamsy seemed to genuinely consider the idea, grimaced, “Those stupid glasses, from the Facebook guy, maybe? Y’know, if they actually work.” and Zanka chuckled. “What? I don't trust ugly people!”
Nijiku had to put his hand on his stomach, this time, Caines ended up following suit, chuckling too. When the giggles were dying down, Zanka realized that blondie's hand was resting on his shoulder and the two of them were stupidly close. If they were in a movie, the next step would be a kiss. But unfortunately, this wasn't a romantic comedy. Adam Sandler wasn’t playing any role. Tamsy slowly removed his hand and apologized, but the place where he had been holding seemed to tingle from the lack of warmth.
Zanka thanked him for his help, and the TA said he was being paid for it, but he would still accept extra compensation. It was his tiny smirk that gave away the silly joke, and, although he usually found this kind of joke unfunny, when it was a handsome guy who made it, he could just smile. It's easy, that thing, right? The pretty privilege. It must be great to be so handsome.
In his case, it seemed unfair. Tamsy was clearly very intelligent, polite, handsome, charming, and, on top of that, very thoughtful.
“Try to solve the other test and send me your answers, okay? If you need anything, we can meet here again.”
Yeah. There was definitely something wrong with him. And the guy was blond… something just had to be off.
Sorry, Zanka. I won't be able to make it to college at that time, but, if you don't mind, we can meet at the mall near the station. It's close to my internship. Only if that's okay with you, of course.
One thing Tamsy didn't seem to realize, however, was that it was not okay with Zanka. That is, maybe it was the voices or perhaps he was just getting crazy from listening to Jabber's litanies, but... meeting the calculus I monitor off campus was, well, different.
The first test was okay.
Zanka wasn't stupid enough to expect to get a ten in that subject; he was no genius, and everything he did, everything he achieved, was purely through hard work and dedication. After that study session, he did what the tutor said, solved the second test, sent a picture with his calculations, and, luckily for him and his rosy cheeks, he was alone when he received the answer. A compliment. Apparently, he did everything right, and for Tamsy, that was something that deserved a “Amazing, Zanka! Well done, I think you're gonna get a good grade on your test!”, followed by a heart emoji. It was ridiculous how just that made him feel embarrassed and walk slightly faster and giddy like a fool. The power of a compliment...
On the test, he got an eight. A great grade, but with a twist of his lips, he thought, “It's not enough.” His brother would have aced the test, his sister wouldn't even have needed help.
And yet, when Tamsy found him in the hallway of the math department, he smiled at the freshman, approached him, “So, how did the test go?” and Zanka grinned politely, just a little crookedly. “I got an eight!” And Caines’ sand-colored eyes widened, beaming widely, once again, his hand rested on his shoulder, he squeezed lightly, “That’s great! Eight, huh? I'm proud of you, see how we don't need any ridiculous glasses?” His hand remained on his shoulder for a while longer, but then he said goodbye, mentioning he had a hydrology class, sighed, shook his head, and left. Once again, the gracefulness with which he moved and the warmth of his touch were really pleasant.
It had been a long time since that day, which was also the last time he had seen him. So, combined with the idea of being in a place that wasn't strictly educational, Zanka was a little too concerned about his outfits’ choices. That's why he resorted to absurd ideas.
He grabbed his cell phone after entering the first bathroom he saw in the mall, but even if he received a negative opinion, there was no time to change clothes. He took a photo and sent it to Riyo, who at that moment was still in Akuta, in her last year of high school, so she always had time for his stupid questions. In less than two minutes, she had replied, sent a sticker, and shared the selfie in a group chat with Eishia, Follo, Gris, and, to make matters worse, Enjin. Convincing himself that it could be worse, he thought Tomme could’ve still been in that group.
Riyo: look at your fav student all dolled up for a date!
But the text couldn't be worse! Zanka wasn't so easygoing to the point that he wouldn’t want to freak out about something like this, and while muttering a thousand and one things, he sat down on a bench in the middle of the passageway and decided to wait there. It was near the station entrance, so Tamsy would probably pass by at some point, right? That was simply easier than sending another email. He should have planned this more carefully... Well, too late now, right?!
It's not a date! I already told you!
Enjin: handsome, huh! who’s the girl?
Gris: For God's sake, Enjin, he's your student!
Enjin: *WAS! i’m not his teacher anymore
Riyo: comon, comon, gris, give us a score for the look!
Follo: Seriously, what do you guys mean, date, A GIRL, and Zanka in the same conversation? That's just absurd
Fuck you, Follo.
Riyo: he has a point tho whos your new boyfriend?
Shit, I already told you I'm just going to meet the TA at the mall! I just want help with Calculus I!
Gris: Man, it's hard for me to defend you… Tomme is dying here, honestly.
Zanka wanted to die. But what could he expect from the school secretary's staff? Tomme and Gris were always together. How the hell had they created that group chat anyway? It started with a science project, a trip to present at the state fair, Gris saying that Enjin couldn't go alone and Tomme accompanying them to document their participation for the school, Enjin being the “responsible” teacher. How awful!
Follo, stop typing, you're not even supposed to be here, you left school a long time ago.
Enjin: uhhhhhh, he called you dumb
Riyo: omg omg answer now or ur a chicken
You guys are horrible.
Gris: They really are. *Tomme
Gris: But you look really good, Zanka! Are you sure it's not a date? *Tomme
Riyo: definitely not, but he sure wished it was
Follo: He's been quiet for two minutes, Riyo was right.
Enjin: is this boy older? he's a monitor, right?
Yes, he must be the same age as August.
Riyo: you have a thing for older guys, im seeing
Follo: Is he blond?
Piss off.
Enjin: i'm gonna die lmao
Riyo: and he's a blondieeeeeeeee
Riyo: pic pic pic
Follo: Pic pic pic
Gris: We're curious too, Zanka. We want pictures!
Enjin: if he looks like me, i'll laugh and worry about your mental health.
Damn you, Enjin.
Riyo: yeah, enjin, go fuck yourself!
I didn't say that.
Riyo: nah, but i did
Enjin: girl, you still have class with me tomorrow?!
Riyo: yea, but were not at school now!!!
He doesn't look like Enjin. He showers. He doesn’t smell.
Riyo: I'M GONNA DIE LOL
Gris: Serves you right, Enjin.
Follo: LOL
Zanka sighed, but couldn't help smiling. Luckily, none of them were there, so he didn't have to pretend that these stupid, petty conversations weren't funny. He missed high school and the people he knew there, even Follo, who had left before him, but always found a way to keep in touch. He would be lying if he said he didn't miss all that madness, but, well, he had to deal with his roommate now, and that guy was maybe five times worse than all of them together. In the end, the conversation served to distract him, and if Tomme said he looked good, then it must be because he really looked good. Then, before he could have a little rest, he thought about the possibility that Tamsy might think it was very strange for him to look so well-dressed.
Looking down at his feet, he saw the usual pair of sneakers he wore every day, straight gray jeans, a blue printed shirt, the same earrings as always, a jacket—it was chilly, and he knew it damn well he’d shiver from the tiniest breeze—a bracelet, and, yeah, he had indeed combed his hair, spending a good amount of time in front of the mirror looking at his face and cataloging everything that was wrong with it. Still, luckily for him, he wasn't wearing any makeup, nor did he know how to use it. At most, Zanka could put on a black eyeliner and use the chapstick Riyo had given him as a joke for his chapped lips. He had nothing against makeup, actually, he would like to know how to draw a cat eye, but he did not have any and nor know how. Imagine if he had put foundation on his face... thankfully, he didn't have any pimples, at the very least. Nijiku sighed, he couldn't say which was worse, being too dressed up or not dressed up enough.
Then, when he looked at his phone again, they were already on another subject—still insulting Enjin, though. Zanka chuckled at that. He was about to contribute with his own insult, just to joke around too, when Eishia appeared in the conversation, tagging his bathroom’s selfie.
Eishia: You look charming, Zanka! Are you going out with someone? Is it a date? Good luck!
First, she was sweet. So unlike her older brother and grandmother. Second, his ears immediately burned when he saw that, and unfortunately, the subject came back to him. Third, Riyo had a big mouth, and Enjin was clearly to blame for that. If someone said they were father and daughter, he wouldn't doubt it.
He was about to reply to Eishia, thank her first, then send a tasteless sticker to Riyo, but Nijiku was stupidly unlucky.
“‘He’s meeting his new blondie boyfriend...?’” Zanka froze for about ten seconds, completely motionless, until he turned in utter terror and came face to face with sandy eyes, pale blonde hair mixed with dark blue strands wrapped in a messy bun on top of his head, an upturned nose, and a damn piercing under his lower lip. He wanted to die right then and there. “They're still typing, by the way.” And Zanka looked at his phone, even more worried. Now he wanted to kill himself, preferably in front of every one of them. Behind him, he heard a giggle, and soon Tamsy was sitting on the bench, but facing him and, fortunately, without access to his phone screen. Also, why was that bastard reading the messages on his phone? He closed the device, swallowed hard, and looked at the boy, who had a mischievous smirk and a twinkle of amusement in his clear eyes. He didn't seem the least bit embarrassed and, luckily for Zanka, something it could easily be noticed, he didn't seem bothered either. Nijiku could breathe again; he wouldn't be kicked down the mall stairs. “You like blonds, then?”
And there went any ounce of calmness he had regained. The high of his cheeks and, for sure, the tips of his ears were blushing now. Damn it, that cute monitor had a way of making him blush that was just so infuriating—beautiful people are hell. The privilege exists.
“I hate blondies!” he replied suddenly. It was the best answer he could think of, pretty much out of despair.
Tamsy's eyes widened and he practically burst out laughing. And the bastard had a melodic laugh—he was so gorgeous, he was extremely annoying. What was his problem? He had to have one! Zanka had a broken picker and especially bad luck in romance, so there’s definitely something wrong with him. It was suspicious that he hadn't found the flaw yet.
“What did we do to you, hm?” He asked, a constant smirk on his lips, and he didn't seem remotely troubled. Also, it didn’t seem like he was going to comment anything on the words “date” or “boyfriend,” and specifically not on the other ridiculous texts he must have read when he was behind him. Zanka wasn't going to say anything about it, pretty much only to not to give the subject room to come back into the conversation, but what a silent step on his part. The guy moved like a cat.
“Oh, so many things...” he replied, shaking his head. He was getting slightly calmer, less nervous. That said, while Zanka spent a good few minutes in front of the mirror, Tamsy looked exactly as he had said: someone who had just returned from their internship and had taken the crowded subway. It was unfair how even with his hair so messy, dark circles under his eyes, and such casual clothes, one of which was a shirt with a logo that was surely from the place where he was interning, he could look as dashing as an angel. “I hope I'm not bothering you too much, it's—”
“C’mon, it's nothing,” he said and smiled. "It's supposed to be twelve hours a week, you know? I have to do it somehow, but I think that in the last two weeks, the only calculus tutor who's actually doing anything is Meriege. I'm just sending the solved tests and calling in a day. Most people just want that because, most of the time, it’s enough. After all, except for your professor, everyone else just repeats the tests."
“Yer’not havin’ enough time ‘cause of the internship?” and he nodded. Zanka wanted to apologize, wanted to bite his hand for asking him to explain the material in person once again when, like the others, he could’ve just asked for the answer, even if she didn’t reused the test, he could learn a thing or two with that. He was giving more work to someone for nothing; it was his responsibility to make an effort to get the grade he wanted, even if he wasn't a genius.
“I'm still getting used to the dust. If I had known I'd have to wear a helmet, I’d have chosen something else.” Tamsy got up, ran his hand over his baggy blue pants, “Do you mind going to the food court? I wanna grab something to eat. My brother probably hasn't even left his room, let alone made dinner. I'll take a look at what you've done while I wait for the order, and then we'll try to solve it together, just like last time, does it sound good?"
He nodded, got up from the bench, put his backpack on his shoulders, and trailed after him. Zanka thanked him, but the blond just waved his hand, dismissing it as if it were nothing.
“I'm the one who should be thanking you for agreeing to come here. It would’ve been a bit tiring for me to have to go to college and then come back home. This is closer for me. It's not too far for you, is it?”
“No, no, I live next to uni. It's just a short walk back.”
They passed by the food court stores, made a comment or two about the fast-foods, Tamsy even mentioned that he didn't really like snacks with pepperoni, and the freshman said he liked pretty much anything with chicken and cheese filling. Tamsy also asked if he preferred juice or soda. Zanka grimaced, said he didn't like soda, and saw the blond's expression turn incredulous, disbelieving, so he added that he liked to eat pizza with orange juice, and that was enough for him. The subject died there.
After that, he went to look for a free table for them, and Caines got in line for calzone. After sitting down, he took his notebook out of his bag and picked up his cell phone again, quickly typed an insult and sent it to the group. In the end, it only made them laugh, and Riyo sent a message saying, “Don't tell me the guy saw that?” and he got angry, because how could she guess this so fast? When the guy came back, he quickly put his phone back on the table, screen down. The blond seemed to notice the act, but said nothing, just displayed an amused grin on his lips and arched an eyebrow.
When he opened his mouth to speak, he was a little worried that he would say something, but Tamsy just sat down and pulled the notebook toward him, almost as if it were his. He was very carefree, never seemed to be shy, and sometimes took Zanka’s things as if they were his. Well, he wasn't going to say anything, especially since he was being helped on a Friday night in the middle of the mall after a day when the boy had gone to his internship, and again, how could he complain about anything with such a handsome person? It made no sense. Even the scars, which he was dying to ask about but knew it would be inappropriate, were extremely charming on him.
“Do you have a pencil I can borrow?” And, just like the other time, he marked the mistakes, told him where the calculation had deviated from the correct answer, and returned the notebook to him. He stood up with a polite “excuse me” and a hand on his shoulder as he got up. When he returned and Zanka was already continuing from his mistakes, he placed a tray on the table, sat down next to him again, and without saying anything, pushed his notebook aside. “I hope you like grapefruit, they didn't have any orange juice.” It was then that Zanka realized there were two glasses and two packages, before he even had a chance to thank him, offer to pay, or feel embarrassed, Tamsy interrupted him. “I don't like to eat alone. You can just buy me a coffee later, okay?”
Zanka nodded, somewhat sheepish. “Hm, yeah, thanks.”
There has to be something very wrong with this guy. And Zanka was going to prove it, because it wasn't fair!
The two ate in an almost comfortable silence. Tamsy seemed to notice that he was a little flustered, so he cleared his throat and started talking about his day at the internship. That's how Zanka found out that he was studying civil engineering, and he found out that Zanka was studying computer science. For the first time, they talked about something more than just numbers. He commented on the teachers he had, talked about the one Nijiku was having classes with now, said he almost couldn't find an internship, and snickered with a hint of shame. Then Zanka talked about high school, saying that he found college life much more tiring and regretted complaining about full-time school. Tamsy replied that when he was ‘younger’ he only had classes during the day and still complained, while his brother, a fifteen-year-old ‘kid’, said he couldn't stand studying so much anymore.
After that, he didn't dare mention his siblings, especially when he felt a certain envy at the way he spoke about his little brother. He didn't have that kind of relationship with Kyoka and Goka.
Then, the two finished eating, the notebook was pulled back, and, once again, there were initial self-conscious thoughts with the boy on his tail, but Zanka was starting to get used to his lack of personal space awareness. The rest was conversation about numbers, low squeals, complaints about why everything had to be so difficult, and a very enthusiastic comment about the content of his speech. After all, what kind of person grins so happily when saying that you have to stay calm because things are gonna get worse? Still, he was very grateful and sighing in relief when he managed to solve everything correctly. Zanka turned to thank him again for his help and was a little dumbstrucked, once more, at how close they were to each other. He smiled, however, before he could speak, Tamsy squeezed his shoulder.
“Good luck on the second test!” Zanka was sure he could count his eyelashes if he had a little more time. The boy blinked his eyes, tilted his face, and stood up, grabbing his backpack from the chair. “I'm still going to buy dinner for my brother and some stuff. Are you going home now?”
Perhaps a little stunned, hit by a sudden display of such beauty, Nijiku gave an almost immediate response. Which was a little embarrassing, he had to admit. “No, I’ll go with ‘ya,” he said, then stopped himself from adding an idiotic ‘if you want.’ He wasn't desperate, and in fact, he was not shy in any way. Riyo had said that half his brain just melted when he talked to attractive people.
And, worse, the other half only thought about impressing and earning some praise. He knew this because his crush on the history teacher earned him a perfects scores in the subject, Nijiku even got involved in projects. He couldn't say he regretted it, it were fun and he wouldn't have met Riyo and the others if it weren't for that brief disappointment. Besides, it wasn't as if Zanka thought a teacher would make a move on him. And if something actually had happened, Enjin certainly would have lost his respect and his crush would've faded away really quickly.
It was interesting precisely because it’d never happen and, since he was his teacher, it would be very weird anyways. In the end, his crush on Enjin was more admiration than anything else.
When Tamsy beamed briefly, however, he thought it wasn't fair. Not at all. When the boy started talking about buying pies for his brother's dinner and asked Zanka if he liked the ‘monstrosity’ that was the chocolate pie in stall number 21, they both agreed that it was absurd and that his younger brother had very strange tastes—that was pretty much just sugar desguised as a candy.
When they wandered around the mall, almost like teenagers with nothing to do, commenting on the clothes in the shop windows, trying to get a teddy bear from those damn machines... it seemed almost natural.
When they went into a convenience store and got into a silly argument about which box of chocolates was better, it didn't seem like something so far-fetched.
Not that he was saying there was anything in there, no, no. Zanna just thought he was cute and felt a little starstruck, if he was being honest. Tamsy was also very softspoken, he didn't seem irritated even when he repeated the same mistake when solving a problem, and he had an easy smile, a endearing voice, a way of speaking that sometimes sounded like he was singing. Every time hs asked anything of him, Caines was extremely helpful. Much more so than any other teaching assistant, which was funny, because most of them gave their numbers, which should convey a sense of closeness, right? That they were just college students like Zanka himself. That's not how they seemed, though.
There weren't many friendly people at the university, and as the semesters went by, the students became increasingly fed up and felt that it was every man for himself—he’d never judge them, in a way, it wasn't so wrong. Some freshmen could, and should, take it more seriously, pay more attention in class, and study on their own, but some teaching assistants could be more patient too. At one point, while waiting in line at the cashier, Zanka shared this opinion to him.
How dangerous… He was starting to feel comfortable around the guy, the awkwardness he had felt before gradually fading away, giving space to an atmosphere of understanding, as if they had known each other for a long while. But that was only the third time they had spoken in person. They had exchanged a few emails outside of those two occasions, Zanka asking for one or two pieces of information he couldn't find on the website or when the professor recommended talking to him, not counting the emails that preceded this trip to the mall—those were very brief, by the way. Tamsy was more talkative in person, for sure, but his way of speech through internet was very straightforward.
“I don't like people I don't know having my number,” was what he said first, and honestly, Zanka agreed. He nodded almost immediately and crossed his arms; in his place, he would’ve done the same. “And also, I mean, I know it's part of the job to review the material with the other students, but I hate teaching dumb and lazy people.”
Zanka had to cover his mouth to stifle a laugh. He shouldn't have been laughing; he wasn't that bright himself, but the way he said it, as if there were no offense intended, was really funny. He looked at the blond questionably, so Caines shrugged and smirked.
“Don't get me wrong, everyone has their weak spots, and courses that involve a lot of math tend to be difficult, but some people try really hard to be incompetent. Do you have any idea how many people come to me asking for the professor's slides purely and simply because they missed three classes? Or they ask if I have free time to review the material right before the exam? It's always the day before or even the day of the exam, people desperately asking to study in the library and wanting to learn months of content in an hour, and getting angry when they can't.” He sighed, looked at Zanka, and grinned in a way that seemed almost bat-shit crazy. “I vented, what a horrible thing to do.”
“I think you're going to be pretty busy in about nine days,” he joked as an answer. Tamsy's eyes widened slightly, and then he shook his head, giggling softly. He still muttered, ‘I hate it here’ under his breath, and the two headed for the cashier. The subject ended there and would probably never come up again. Well, he was wrong.
“You know, Zanka,” the blond said as he adjusted his bags, they were already leaving the store. “I think that's why I like studying with you. You really listen to what I'm saying and try to understand, I can tell that you really try hard and that you care about learning and not just memorizing a couple of answers for a test. I like that.”
First, he knew his ears were red. Second, he was embarrassed by the probably dumb face he made as soon as he heard him. Third, Zanka cleared his throat and put a hand behind his neck, a little too happy with a simple compliment.
“I'd feel like an idiot if I couldn't learn,” he grumbled.
Tamsy smirked, put his hand on his shoulder, and apparently, the boy was also getting very relaxed around him. Well, he pretty much was like that since the beginning, though.
“You should feel like an idiot for liking matcha tea flavoured chocolate, but that's obivous.”
Zanka snorted, then rolled his blue eyes. “Go to hell, Tamsy,” and the blond gave him a little push with his shoulder, a light one, just for teasing, so he pushed him back. “I don't want to hear any opinions from someone who likes mint chocolate...”
“Worse is you saying that green peanut is good.”
“Come on, y’like those colorful ones!”
Tamsy seemed to be looking for a way to retaliate, even putting his hand on his chin, a common habit of his, but he said nothing and just clicked his tongue. Zanka grinned proudly, almost triumphantly. “You're just wrong, ok?,” he said later, but he was holding back a smile. “You're taking the subway, right?” He nodded, suddenly remembering that he did have a home to return to and that Jabber would tease him all night about this story. “I'm taking the bus home.”
“Is it close?” he asked, and Caines nodded, then made a ‘more or less’ gesture with his hand. “Well, thank ‘ya very much, I owe ‘ya one.”
At that, he raised an eyebrow, “You owe me, huh?” He chuckled softly, narrowed his eyes, “I'll take your word on that.”
Zanka just brushed it of, muttered something, and shortly after, the two went on their separate ways.
They said goodbye briefly, just like last time. Tamsy told him once again to send his answers to the second test and wished him good luck. If Nijiku had any complaints about him… Well, just before turning and heading straight for the entrance to the station, Tamsy nudged his shoulder, so Zanka turned his face and was about to ask him if he had forgotten something or if he needed anything, they had already said goodbye, hadn't they? But then he looked mischievously, a sparkle in his light eyes too charming to realize what awaited him ahead.
“Good luck trying to explain to your friend that this wasn't a date.” And he snorted sardonically, as if it had been on purpose. Caines left without saying anything else, not even goodbye or waiting for a response.
Actually, he had a point.
Hell, they even played on those plushies claw machines! Considering he left home around 6:30 and it was almost 9:00 already, no one would believe he spent all that time studying.
“Damn, he’s a prick!”
Controlling Jabber was almost as difficult as stopping Riyo from scrolling through Instagram looking for the boy's profile based on her assumptions. To make matters worse, he almost said the boy's name, and he knew that if he had even muttered only a surname, she would have found it. And she would have come back with a huge report full of opinions about him.
But the worst part wasn't even all their excitement. That was normal at this point. He was getting used to his roommate's personality and, little by little, he thought they were getting along, even though Wonger was one of those people who were always going to parties and yet had a perfect academic record. He was so smart it was infuriating, but every now and then he’d sit at their desk and study for about two hours straight. When he got up, he never complained about having to study. Sometimes, Zanka’d listen to excited monologues about his course, and in the end, that was what made his opinion of him change.
Jabber was very enthusiastic about chemical engineering and, in his own words, couldn't wait to start his internship. He was in his third semester now and had taken some specific electives, already thinking about the position he wanted. He was inteligent and knew it, but he still tried to improve and said confidently that he ‘didn't want to settle for little’. He was capable to list the places he was interested in interning, actually. It was a surprising and admirable level of excitement, but his confidence still irritated Nijiku sometimes.
In the end, the worst, the absolute worst, was that the two said something he didn't want to think about, but perhaps it made some sense.
“That guy's hitting on you, y’know,” Riyo had said.
They were on call when Wonger entered the room, and since then, the three of them started talking together, with the two of them teasing him as if it were just normal group dynamics.
“It seems the sheep fell on the wolf's path!” and she chortled at Jabber’s quip, her face leaning too close to the cell phone camera, suddenly, all they could see were the red strands of hair. “What's his name, by the way?”
“As if I'm telling ‘ya.” And the two groaned.
However, when he laid his head on the pillow and started to think, like, could it be... no, no, it didn't make any sense. Tamsy was older, very intelligent, charming and funny, stupidly handsome, and, shit, Zanka hid his face in the pillow, grunting at it.
Hell. If the TA weren't already dating, then probably half the world's fate was to be single, because it didn't make sense. Or else Zanka was right and there was something very wrong with him—which was much more believable, he was convincing himself of that.
There was no reason for a guy like that to hit on a freshman, and even though he wasn't an idiot with low self-esteem to that extent, he didn't think he was that handsome. He didn't think himself ugly, not even close. Nijiku was tall too, which made him really hate the idea of hanging out or dating guys shorter than him. As he realized that day at the mall, the two were practically the same height—a stupid thought crossed his mind that it should be nice kissing someone the same height as his.
He squeezed the pillow tighter and decided that the blame for his sudden lack of sleep was not his thoughts, but Jabber snoring like a locomotive in the bed on the other side of the room.
The next day, he was exhausted, but he still dragged himself to the library around six in the evening, after the last class ended. He had that damn calculus test in two days, and if he got a good grade, he would be exempt from that class. The end of the semester was approaching, and it seemed that all the exams were piling up on top of each other. Zanka was so grateful that he always studied ahead of time. He would be tearing his hair out if he hadn't done anything, especially in physics—which he began to study with the girls from the tutoring program. The three of them stopped going to the classroom with that stupid assistant and got into the habit of studying together in the library during that assigned time. It was almost comfortable, except, of course, for the miserable content of the subject.
Zanka hid a yawn with his hand and was looking for an empty table when, instead, he saw a high bun and striking dark blue strands mixed with light ash-blond.
‘But he's hitting on you. He really is, and not just a little, he's all in’—he had never been so irritated to hear Riyo's voice in his head, and he even thought about turning around, looking for another table further away, and dealing with these kinds of thoughts later when the fate of his studies were not relying on his shoulders. Although, when he looked him up again, Tamsy was waving, a friendly smile on his lips.
As soon as he realized Zanka was looking, he called him over with his hand, and him? Well, he just went. Like an obedient puppy, and that thought got him annoyed and a bit fludtered.
Tamsy pointed to the chair in front of him and he sat down without further ado, saying good evening quietly, after all, they were in the library. In response, the blond made a sign in sign language, said the same thing. Nijiku smirked, replied in the same way, a whole question. One of the first things you learn when you study the subject: “Do you know sign language?” And, with that, Tamsy widened his light eyes, almost going out of its sockets. He leaned over the table, and if Caines had been just a tad closer to his face, it would’ve been very uncomfortable—one of two things: either he would have punched him or kissed him, in that kind of proximity? If it wasn't shameless flirting, it was aggressive fighting.
“Do you know sign language?” he asked in a whisper that sounded, almost comically, like a shout.
“I took sign language classes in school,” Nijiku replied, then tilted his face and watched the boy sighing. A thousand and one thoughts passed through those light eyes, and then Tamsy hels his shoulders, both hands there, and pulled him closer. “What?” asked, his head spinning. This is too much close.
“You said you owed me one, right?”
Zanka frowned. He had indeed said something like that at the mall, and immediately felt his cheeks burning. He heard Riyo behind him talking nonsense, and damn his light eyelashes, he swallowed hard, nodded slowly, and murmured yes.
“Oh! Great, today you can't stop owning! I have a test in an hour, my semester partner dropped the class, and I'll definetly kill myself in front of the teacher if I have to go alone and talk with the wind.”
“‘Ya had a conversation scripted? Is yer teacher just going to stare or ask any questions?” And he shook his head, his hands that had been on Zanka’s shoulders were still there, but they no longer had any strength or urgency. Tamsy just left his fingers there and tapped them almost without realizing it. It was a damn effort not be lost by this and concentrate on whar the blond was speaking, he was also a bit flustered. Where was that atmosphere of friendship and teasing when he needed it?
“No, we hadn't arranged anything because my partner disappeared! I sent him a message, he saw it, but he didn't reply. Then, I cought the prat in the cafeteria today and he said he dropped the course, when he could’ve just warned me before. Now there's no time left to humiliate myself in front of the class or the teacher to take the test in groups of three,” he admitted with a certain amount of impatience and annoyance, but the bastard, besides being intelligent and handsome, was also funny. Hell. There was something wrong with this guy. “But there's still plenty of time to humiliate myself for you, Zanka! So… pretty please?!” he whined the last two words and was smiling in a strange, crooked way.
So, Nijiku did what the TA always did: looked at his things as if we're his.
Tamsy had an open workbook on the table, which had several illustrations of hands in signs, the first one being the alphabet. Was he that bad at it? Was sign language something the blondie had difficulties with? Zanka ran his tongue over his lips, considering carefully what he was going to say.
“Yer know anything about physics?”
“Send me your professor's slides and I'll sort it out. It's been a while since I took the course, but I still remember a few things.”
At first, he had that unpleasant feeling that he was dealing with a little brat genius, but at least Tamsy wasn't trying to feign unnecessary modesty. Then, a question that had been nagging his mind for some time popped into his head and left his lips. “What semester are yer in?”
“Seventh.” Zanka wouldn't dare ask his age; he didn't want to know, he didn't want to know! “But first-semester physics wasn't difficult for me, trust me, I'll help you! I'll even meet you on the weekend, I really don't wanna take this test alone.”
His eyes narrowed, he didn't know if it was out of a certain envy that physics had been easy for someone else, or perhaps suspicion that sign language was such a big problem. “Okay. It'll have to be on the weekend, my test’s on Monday morning and yet pretty much interrupting my study time.”
“Zanka,” he said in a tone that sounded really serious, but smirk on his lips showed that it was more of a joke than anything else. “Ask me to leave my house at five o’clock on a Sunday and I'll go, just don't leave me alone!”
Zanka had to press his lips together hard to hold back his laughter. They were in a library, after all. Tamsy was also biting down a chuckle, but since he was leaning over him, he just hid his face in Nijiku’s shoulder and muffled his giggles there. His hands slid down his arm, and even through the fabric of his shirt, he could feel his nose and the warmth of his breath—that damned piercing practically grinding in his clothes. He didn't know what entity was watching over him that he wasn't a flustered mess right now. When the older boy moved away and took his hands off him, he was still presentable and not a mess of pink and red tones.
Zanka got up from the table and put his backpack on his shoulder. “Let's study outside, I'll buy yer a coffee this time.”
The smile he received in response was way too beautiful to bother about something so trivial as age. After all, Tamsy said he had studied fashion for two years and was in his seventh semester of engineering... that was at least a five-years difference. As he walked ahead and was followed by him, Zanka wondered how absurd something like this would be and how shocked his sister would be, what mean things Goka’d have to say.
His parents wouldn't like it at all, that's for sure. In fact, there was no way of them liking Caines, not with the piercing under his lower lip, the visible burns, and his comments about the culture of waste. He could already hear Kyoka curling her lip, complaining about how messy public universities are.
And yet the boy had nothing wrong. He was always presentable, sure he had stupidly long hair and his mother’d ask if he intended to sweep the floor with it, but... and he looked to the side, tilted his head and stared. Fucking handsome prick! He was already daydreaming about this kind of stuff that didn't even make sense, why go so far as considering what his siblings or family would say?
You don't even have his number, Zanka!
And, regardless of whether he had any relationship with him or any other guy, they thought it was all just a rebellious phase and would pass at some point. To them, it was oh so very simple…
“You're looking at the floor as if it offended you,” Tamsy said and leaned in, his tone of voice suddenly a bit more assertive. “Look, it's okay if you don't want to—”
“How old are ‘ya?” Zanka asked and interrupted him, his eyebrow arched. “Twenty-two?”
The blond paused for a moment, then smiled slyly. “Twenty-three. My birthday is in April.”
They walked until they were under the ceiling of the cafeteria and sat down at one of the tables, which was empty at that time of day. The fact that it was final exam week must have caused everyone to crowd the library, which was why Zanka had almost been unable to find a table to sit in the first place.
“How old you thought I was?” he asked, putting his backpack on the floor and reaching for his textbook.
“Twenty,” Nijiku said, afterall, he looked about the same height as August—guess twenty is not so different from twenty-three, right?!
Caines shook his head to the side, nodded, and seemed pleased with the answer. “I wanted to make a deal with the devil like Dorian Gray did and stay young and beautiful forever.”
Zanka pressed his lips tightly together, he wasn't going to laugh at that, and he was trying so hard not to. Judging by the other’s grin, he was waiting for it. Oh, but Nijiku wasn't going to give him this satisfaction.
Enough.
Enough of handsome, smart, charming, and funny blond boys. And, specifically, enough of their stupid inferior lip piercings.
He took his wallet out of his bag and walked to the vending stall. As soon as his back was turned, he chuckled a little and was sure Tamsy knew, since his shoulders moved slightly.
There were only three people in line, so it’d be quick, but there was enough time to clear up his doubt. Zanka took his phone, opened the group chat with his school friends and that other damn blond guy.
How old is the old hag Enjin? And Gris?
Gris: I'm thirty! Why do you ask?
Miracle, the busiest one saw it first.
Follo: An interview at this hour...
Riyo: old hag lol look enjin were talking about you
Enjin: i'm only twenty-eight, you brats, i'm still young
Twenty-three, is that young too?
Follo: Holy crap! Your blond monitor?
Enjin: i need to see a picture of this guy now, seriously, i'm actually worried, like does he look like me????
It was his turn to order, so he put his phone in his back pocket. He hadn't asked Tamsy if he wanted anything other than coffee, but it wasn't like there was a wide variety of things to sell at the canteen this hour. So he bought coffee with milk and a dark Snickers bar for him, since he knew he favoured dark chocolate. A small plastic cup of chamomile tea was what he ordered for himself. Zanka was going to die young, and it was from the heart—a massive heart attack. Either that or he would be covered in wrinkles before time, out of pure stress. He put the chocolate and his wallet in one of his pants’ pockets and carried the two plastic cups in his hand.
“I asked for it mixed with milk.”
“What if I'm lactose intolerant?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, and, he had to admit, he did have a point.
Zanka cleared his throat and smiled broadly. “But yer not, right? Keep quiet, nobody uses their voices in sign language.” Tamsy chuckled slightly and thanked him in ASL after looking at his textbook. “Do ‘ya think sign language is hard?”
He frowned. “The hardest. But I admit I didn't study at all, I thought it was, y’know, easy and in the end... I became exactly what I criticized. Going to annoy the monitor on the day of the test!”
“Yer worse, actually, I'm not a monitor.” Tamsy made an even bigger face, but he knew how to apologize without looking at the textbook. “What does she want in the conversation, ‘ya know?”
“She sent it by email, wait!” He rested his cup on the table and went to look for his cell phone in his bag. Meanwhile, Zanka took his cell phone out of his pocket, put his wallet in his backpack, and placed the chocolate bar on the table. “Thanks,” Caines said immediately, but he was still busy rummaging through his backpack. Zanka heard him mutter an expletive and an indignant ‘But I put it here!’
Meanwhile, he took this as an opportunity to look at his phone. He read the messages from his friends, especially Riyo’s, who was teasing the history teacher, and then heard a relieved ‘Oh, I found it!’ which made Nijiku giggle.
So? Gris? 23?! Is it too much? Outrageous?
Follo: Better than your crush on Enjin
It wasn't real!
Riyo: OMG OMG U AND NERDY BLONDIE?
And Zanka glanced briefly at the boy, who already had his phone in his hands and a frown on his forehead, looking genuinely disheartened.
Maybe. I don't know if I really have a chance. And it's a bit weird, isn't it? He's five years older.
Enjin: i'm eleven and that didn't stop you
I already told you I've never been interested in you, you stink.
Riyo: dude, you only live once! hit on him! ask his number! yeah he's five years older than you so what? if he wants to, great. If not, well, that's how it goes sometimes :) you just move on
“Zanka,” and he immediately raised his head, ears just a little hot, and closed his phone right away. He didn't want this conversation to be read at all, there was not an ounce of joking or mockery in the texts that he could use as an excuse later. The boy said nothing, just handed him his phone, the email open and a written script of what should be in the conversation.
“Oh, blondie...” and he took a deep breath.
Tamsy was going to get a good grade on this test, it was a matter of honor now. Zanka pulled the chair he was sitting on until he was beside him and not in front, took the textbook and put it between them. From then on, he didn't say another word and tapped his shin with his toe every time the blond said something out loud, even if unintentionally.
After an hour, they had rehearsed the conversation—a poorly told and frequently interrupted gossip story. Zanka was the one telling and Tamsy was the one who didn't understand and interrupted several times to ask questions, seek explanations, or make brief comments with his opinion. His vocabulary was better for apologizing and asking questions, but really poor when it came to describing facts or actions, so it was better for him to ask about what Zanka said, that way he could remember the signs by watching him do it first.
He didn't know if Caines understood his intention or was just following aimlessly his qualms, but when they entered the classroom and practiced what they had agreed in the last few minutes and in the hallway. The older boy spoke to the teacher only in sign language, explaining that his partner wasn't coming, although he wasn't capable of saying why. Then, he explained that he had asked a friend to take the test with him, both lying that Nijiku was also taking sign language classes with another teacher. When she asked if he wanted her to pass the result on to his teacher, Tamsy hesitated a little and Zanka answered, telling that the last test was individual, just translating spoken language into sign language. In a way, he hadn't really lied.
That was the last test he had on this subject at school. Although he doubted anyone still remembered the lessons, Zanka never did anything by halves and had even chosen a long video to translate.
The conversation they practiced lasted the minimum time required, five minutes. It was a short piece of gossip about a classmate who had gotten drunk at a party and made a huge mess, but it worked. The teacher nodded, smiled at them both, and gave a thumbs up as her first response. Tamsy sighed with relief and even put his hand on his chest.
Afterwards, in sign language, she said she was “Impressed with him,” and Zanka couldn't hold his laugh, but the blond took a while to understand, and when he did, he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. She said he could rest assured that he had passed the course and she’d forgive him for the extra absence; the grades would be sent later. Two other people knocked on the door, the next ones up for the test, so the two said goodbye before leaving the classroom.
Tamsy seemed especially amused, relieved, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he hugged Zanka quickly, a little awkwardly, thanking him with such intention that he was just as embarrassed as he was proud of himself. He felt his heart beat faster and thanked God profusely when the boy let go, but perhaps he would have thanked him more if Caines had taken his left hand off his arm. It wasn't uncomfortable, quite the contrary, it was problematic precisely because he wanted to hug him again and the hand there prevented him from paying attention to what the hell he was saying now, besides, the damn hug made him think things he shouldn't think.
For example, Tamsy's fingers were thin and long. As he had already noticed, his touch was graceful, without much strength. Even when he hugged him, he didn't hold him tightly, just wrapped his arms around his neck and part of his back, his fingertips touching the skin, and unfortunately, he noticed it too much. Zanka was just a boy with a weakness for older, blond guys. And an even greater weakness for compliments, to the point where, perhaps, Riyo was right, he really did have a fetish with praise. This was fucking embarrassing.
In the end, the two walked together to the campus exit. He was going to take a bus and Zanka was going back to the dorm to study there before sleeping. Tamsy asked who his professor for that subject was and snorted when he heard the name, but didn't explain why.
This time, instead of making a joke or trying to arrange something by email, the blond looked at the time on his cell phone and said he had to go to the bus stop now, then added, “Give me your number and I'll text you as soon as I get on the bus. We'll arrange something, okay? If you want, I can spend Saturday and Sunday studying physics, you have no idea how much you helped me today.”
Zanka typed his number with trembling fingers, his ears burning, returned the cell phone and watched him save the contact. Tamsy said a hurried good night and waved. Two seconds later, the blond guy was running straight up the street and stopped far ahead. Shortly after, a bus turned, stopped, and when it pulled away, there was no sign of him. Zanka grimaced, poor guy, a little more and he would have lost it—he felt kind of bad because of it. He took a deep breath and turned away, he shouldn't have stood there like a blue stick watching him leave.
It didn't take even five minutes to get to the dorms, but he put his bag on the floor and threw himself on the bed, used his hands to cover his eyes and grumbled. How stupid... And he still had a physics test on Monday.
His cell phone vibrated in his right pocket and he pulled it up. It was Tamsy. They quickly agreed on a place and time. He sent her a Justin Bieber sticker with a background full of hearts, which made him smile; so Nijiku sent one back with a duck offering a flower. The message was marked with a heart and the conversation ended there. Just like the emails, it was straight to the point, strictly business. Zanka pouted pathetically and thanked heaven that Jabber wasn't there. He always came home late at night, especially on Fridays. He took seriously the idea that Fridays nights were partying nights.
Since he already had his phone at hand, he scrolled through the group chat and laughed at some nonsense, rereading what Riyo had said. When he left the chat, there were three other messages in her private chat.
One of them was Riyo asking who the guy was, for a picture, proof, and saying she was going to do a full investigation to see if he was really worth it. Zanka rolled his eyes. Three messages from Enjin and... one from Tomme.
He hadn't talked to her in a long time. The last thing he talked with the school secretaries was asking for his school records and commenting that he had passed the course he wanted at the federal university, and that's all. Back then, there were Christmas and New Year's messages, because Tomme was a sweetheart and Zanka wanted more than anything to return all the kindness, even if he sometimes didn't know how.
He opened the conversation with Riyo first and, with a sigh, gave up.
Tamsy Caines, he's doing civil engineering and told me he studied fashion for two years. I don't have any of his social media accounts, and please don't follow him.
u can leave it to me!!!! give me between thirty minutes and two hours ill find everything that is to know about him
Rolling his eyes, he went to reply to Enjin.
boy, you're too serious and desperately need to have some fun
from all the gossip Riyo told me, this one is actually hitting on you, so just enjoy it. it's not every day that freshmen get that much attention from cute seniors. i do wish some older girlies had flirt with me back in my day…
but be savvy and take care of yourself. if you're gonna something naughty, don't forget to stop by the pharmacy first
For God's sake, Enjin.
i've been your age boy, if you're not climbing the walls by hornyness then something's off
Zanka stopped replying with a grunt and, somewhat apprehensive, opened his chat box with Tomme and talked to her for the next thirty minutes. It was like having an older sister, but a real one, not a cold and inquisitive figure. With a smile on his lips, he almost forgot that he had given the boy's information to his red-haired friend. Well, almost.
Riyo: GUYS, HE DOESN'T LOOK ANYTHING LIKE ENJIN!!! HE'S FUCKING GORGEOUS !!!!!
Enjin: you don't mean i’m ugly, do you??
And of course she sent a photo.
Tomme always liked romance stories, and she herself said that she loved talking to the teens at school because of that. In addition to celebrity gossip, there were the romances of the younger ones, the things of their age, who liked whom, who was deceived, the couples that everyone thought were cute, and those that everyone looked at and thought, ‘where there is this much hate, then there is love.’
So, in his second year of high school, he let slip in the middle of a group of classmates that he thought Enjin was handsome—something anyone would agree with, of course, if Enjin weren't Enjin—from that point on they teased him for several months straight, and Zanka hadn't even said anything that absurd. When he saw Tomme one day when he arrived early and she was holding a cup of coffee outside her room just watching the time pass by, she looked at him and said, laughing a little, “So you like blondes? The girls were taking bets about what your type was, Zanka!” He blushed, stammered to explain himself, and in the end, he opened up to her, telling her pretty much everything in a bubblering mess.
To his surprise, she didn't judge him at all and, in fact, treated the matter seriously, gave him good advice.
When it was almost time to go to class, she put her hand on his back, said that everything would be okay and that “Enjin is a dirty-minded prick, Zanka, even if you were the same age and he was into you, believe me, you wouldn't be able to like him for more than two months! It will pass, honey, and it’ll pass quickly.”
And the worst part? Tomme was right. It passed, and it did passed quickly. The crush he had on him, in the end, must have been just confused admiration and a desire to be recognized and praised. But it was amazing how people he only saw at school gave him more comfort than his own family at home.
That Friday night, she sent him a message asking if he had time to talk on the phone, and after that, they started a serious conversation, then became friendly, and ended with both of them giggling and a warm feeling deep in his chest. He liked talking to Tomme, and he realized that day that he really missed high school.
Still, on Saturday morning, he woke up early, took a shower, got ready, and called Riyo. She was with Eishia, and from the look on their faces, none of them hadn't even slept. He should have found it strange that she agreed to an early call and, worse, was awake when he first sent the message. He gave her the ‘sordid details’ she had asked for, then Riyo told everything she had found out about the guy on the internet. In a more than chaotic video call, Eishia sometimes despaired at what she heard, her eyes widened, her jaw dropped, and the two laughed with her. After hanging up and agreeing that they would go out during the entirety of their holidays, Zanka lay down on his own bed and looked angrily at Jabber, who was still sound asleep, even with all the noise they had made. He wondered what time the guy had arrived, but decided it was better not to know, and, feeling almost generous, he didn't wake him up. Let the poor frat boy sleep his hungover away.
Then he went to the university cafeteria, had lunch, returned to the dorm, and woke Wonger up, saying that there would be no more food if he took too long to get up, then packed his bag. When he came out of the bathroom, Zanka came in right behind him, took a quick shower so he could leave the house, brushed his teeth, and when he came out, his roommate was still there, sitting on his own bed, legs and arms crossed.
“Where’re you going?” he asked, and, being in a good mood, he didn't respond with ‘none of yer business, man’ as he normally would have.
“I'm going to the mall next to the station.” Jabber nodded. “And I'm not taking ‘ya!”
“Ahhhh,” he groaned. “Why’s that? Are you going alone, then? It's no trouble, I'll go with you. Wait for me, I'm just gonna grab lunch and I'll be right back.”
Zanka rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. Going to the mall with Jabber was almost like walking with a ten-year-old child. He wanted to go into every store, he took forever looking at everything in every corner, and in the end, neither of them had any money to pay for anything, so they didn't buy anything. The sales assistants would stare at them with a horrible look on their faces. Zanka would leave embarrassed and angry, while Jabber would leave without a shred of shame, even making jokes.
It was a bit stressful, but it wasn't worse than going to the movies with him. Wonger never shut up. But at the end of the day, it was his fault for agreeing to go knowing full well that he always got angry—the truth is that, apart from the embarrassment that only he felt, perhaps because Nijiku took himself too seriously, going out with Jabber was fun and he knew many places in the city, so, at worst, they’d never see a good movie together again. Going to the cinema with his roommate just to see trash films.
“I made plans with a friend.” He decided to say that, and Wonger eyes grew twice its size.
Then it took at least five minutes to convince him that it had nothing to do with the monitor, but then he gave up trying to lie that he wasn't going to meet the blond guy, so he spent another three minutes beating and kicking Jabber out because, in fact, his roommate was going to miss lunch—which it’d mean Wonger would have to spend money buying, and they both knew their savings. Sometimes it was nice to be broken together and complain about that, but mostly it was just sad to think his family gave him so little on purpose, so he'd given up.
Well, the subway was fast as always, he spent more time waiting at the station than actually inside it, and yet he was grateful for the short wait, glad he missed the first one. As he was entering the mall, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and picked it up, it was Tamsy.
On a scale of 0 to 10, how much do you hate Disney?
Zanka raised an eyebrow. That was very sudden, but he didn't think too much about it and just typed his answer.
Three. I love Tiana. Why?
He saw the text but didn't reply. Zanka shrugged. He was about to ask if he had arrived yet. It was about the time they had agreed on, and Tamsy was very punctual. Then, a hand with thin fingers and bitten nails tilted his phone down, and he was about to tell someone to fuck off, but then he saw pale blond and blue mixed together, smooth, straight, falling over a band-printed shirt. It was the Bring Me the Horizon umbrella, right? From that album Riyo loved.
When he looked up, Tamsy was beaming prettily, loose hair looking very different on him, but no less endearing. In fact, it was annoying how handsome he was, and it was extremely annoying because it was the same person, the same face, the same grin, but just because of a black shirt with an emo band print and long, loose hair, suddenly Zanka's heart thought it would be a good idea to start dancing inside its designated space.
“Sorry,” he said first, “but you were about to bump into that pillar right there if you kept staring at your phone screen.” And his cheeks turned red when he looked behind Tamsy and realized that he really was going to bump into it.
He took his hand off his phone and Zanka put it in his pocket, adjusted his backpack on his shoulders, and cleared his throat, ready to ask why she had asked that question and, also, with an easy ‘thank you’ on his tongue, he was a very dear person. It was two o'clock on a Saturday afternoon, and even though he was interning and studying, he had agreed to meet to review the contents of Physics I—he wasn't even a tutor for that subject and Tamsy himself should have had his own tests to study for.
“So, than—”
“TAMSY!” And the blond rolled his eyes, sighed, but didn't seem particularly angry or anything. It was like seeing Enjin after hearing a sarcastic comment from Riyo dedicated to him. “Let's go, let's go! The movie starts in ten minutes, we're not waiting for you!”
When Zanka looked to the side, there was a brat with red eyes and white hair, blackish at the ends, he was holding a bag full of junk food, and there was a girl next to him, quieter and less like someone who had eaten something and didn't like it. They were both very... short. The kid looked at him with the ugliest face he had ever seen in his entire life, and with all the tact he had, all Nijiku did was glare back. Between them, Tamsy stifled a laugh and the girl held the kid's arm.
“So, Zanka, now that you've met my brother and his girlfriend,” and the boy squeaked, the girl's face turned red and she seemed to want to explain herself, “I hope you don't mind, but you're kind of going to have to watch Inside Out 2 with us, I already bought the tickets.”
And the bastard even had the nerve to smile all lovely dovey!
Shit.
All he could see was the damn piercing under his lower lip and the fact that his eyelashes were too long, his sandy eyes seemed to increase in size. Having a crush on the calculus monitor in his first semester of university was not on Zanka Nijiku's list of goals.
But, well, nothing that followed was on his wish list too—that he could say for sure.