Chapter Text
Andrew [21:49] I hate you
Andrew [21:50] but that doesn't mean that I wouldn't blow you
Neil has been staring at the last message for ten minutes, trying to figure out how the hell this even happened. How his stupidity and rash decision led to... something like this. He realized with horror that his cock was twitching interestedly in his sweatpants at the thought of Andrew Minyard standing before him on his knees. His mouth instantly went dry.
Covering his face with his hands, Neil groaned, cursing Allison, the fucking bet, and himself at the same time too.
***
"And I'm telling you again," Allison insistently repeats, pointing a plastic fork at him, "I don't believe you.”
The next time someone tells him that he doesn't have a high enough level of self-control, Neil will definitely remember this moment. Instead of rolling his eyes and snapping back, he decided to act like a grown-up: ignored the comment, grabbing some French fries from a plate of nearby settled Matt, filling his mouth with food instead of words.
During lunch breaks, the cafeteria is filled with hungry students, who make more noise than football fans at a stadium. After a few months of studying, Neil has become accustomed to this. Although the occasional bursts of loud laughter still make him wince, but, at least, they no longer make him want to run away, as was the case during his first semester.
He's still one step away from running away, but for a completely different reason. His argument with Allison started the moment he sat down at that damn table, and it's going on till this moment. Half of the meal has already passed, and the girl clearly has no intention of giving up. In fact, Neil reluctantly acknowledges that it's his own fault – no one forced him to say anything. Well, and who could have known that a careless remark would become a trigger?
"To be honest, I doubt it too," Dan says thoughtfully, giving him a skeptical look.
Neil swallows the cold potatoes and looks at his friend as if she were a traitor. Although it is strange, of course, that the others at the table have not intervened so far, allowing Allison to present her arguments, which, unfortunately for him, are quite logical and, what a sin to conceal, true. He still did not expect that Dan would have such a lack of faith in him.
"Hey! Neil wouldn't lie to us!" Matt protests, always ready to defend his friend. Turning, he gives him a reassuring slap on the shoulder. "I believe you.”
"Thanks, Matt," smiling tightly, Neil says.
At least he knows that Matt is on his side and is a great friend in general. Not like those hyenas on the other side of the table, who are looking at him with a lot of skepticism now. No, he, of course, loves and appreciates them, but sometimes they can be quite insufferable. Allison winces at Matt's comment, gifting him a disbelieving look. Dan, on the other hand, straightened her shoulders, leaning back in her plastic chair. Raising an eyebrow, she looks at Neil with a calm expression.
"Remember at least the girl who hit on you in the first semester"
"Marissa," Rene reminds her politely, looking up from her salad for a moment.
Neil winces. He had, in all honesty, forgotten that Rene was here too. She was too quiet at times. And also – he would never admit this to anyone – the girl was a little bit scary. She seemed nice and kind, but there was something about her that made Neil's skin crawl. Something dark, hidden in the depths of her eyes.
Shaking his head, he returns to the present. He turns an indifferent gaze on Dan, carelessly shrugging his shoulders.
"What about her?"
"The poor thing flirted with you for an hour and you didn't notice."
Matt snorts merrily.
"Oh, I remember," he clears his throat and continues in a squeaky voice. "I can give you my number," and then a little less squeaky, but still not in his own voice. "Why do I need your number?”
And starts giggling again, along with Dan. Neil thinks that he may have been a bit hasty in his assessment of Matt as a good friend. Even Rene chuckles quietly, trying to cover it up with a cough. Allison, pleased, takes a sip of water from her bottle and points at Matt, clicking her fingers. As if it proves her point.
Okay, first of all, Neil doesn't fucking have that voice. Second of all, Matt is walking on very thin ice.
"Just because I don't understand hints doesn't mean I can't flirt myself."
"Darling," Allison drawls pityingly, shaking her head. Neil's eye twitches, "just admit you don't know how to flirt and let's end this pointless argument."
"I can flirt!”
He didn't know how to flirt. At all. In any way. Neil by himself didn't understand why he was trying to prove otherwise. It was pure stubbornness, nothing more. As soon as the first words about how he was almost a master at it slipped from his lips (due to his old habit of often spreading false facts about himself), he was filled with a strange determination. Perhaps he was encouraged by Dan and Allison's skeptical looks. At some point, he have even thought it was funny.
Maybe he's just an idiot.
"Good," Allison nodded. Jesus Christ, Neil very didn't like the look in her eyes. "If that's the case, I have a bet for you."
And there it is, the moment when the voice in his head, called common sense, screams him to stop, to end this charade.
He, of course, doesn't listen.
Leaning closer, Neil leans over the table, his hands gripping the half-empty tray.
"What kind of bet?"
Allison's lips curve into a predatory smile.
"Seduce a person in a month using only text messages. Make sure he doesn't know your identity, because," she sighs, gesturing outlines his body expressively and then to his face, "Well, you know what I mean.”
Neil freezes and even cowers a little. Unconsciously, he raises his hand to his face, covering the terrible scar on his cheek. He knows he's far from a handsome man, but he didn't expect to hear confirmation from his friends. It feels particularly bitter.
"Neil, she means you're hot," Dan corrects gently, with a hint of pity. "And if you will shitty flirt, with your looks – it's forgivable.”
Allison nods in confirmation, biting her lip. Neil feels even worse as he watches his friends look at him with sympathy and concern. He feels an irrational anger towards himself. He's made them feel guilty again, but that's not true. If anyone messed up here – it was him. Well, for the most part, it's his father, but who remembers that asshole anyway? The main thing is that his face is ruined, and it doesn't matter who's to blame for it. They don't have to feel guilty for occasionally reminding him of it. And they don't have to convince him that he's supposedly hot. He knows that that's not true.
"In any case," Allison clears her throat after a small, awkward pause, "if the person will want to meet in person in a month, you've won. If you're will be immediately blacklisted, which I'm pretty sure you will be, I've won."
Another minute passes in silence.
"And what will I get if I win?" Neil finally asks.
"Better ask what will happen if you lose," Allison chuckles. "I hope you haven't forgotten that I'm throwing a party for your birthday in a month? If you lose, you'll have to ask Marissa to be your date.”
Matt whistles sympathetically while Neil winces at such the prospect.
“But what will I get if I win?” Squinting, he insistently asks again.
“Prove that you’re not a liar?” Allison raises an eyebrow calmly.
Neil almost laughed, but he caught himself in time. He's a pathological liar. The past is long gone, but old habits are not so easy to let go. He's trying, really. He's trying to lie less, to tell the truth. It doesn't always work out. His mother's ghostly hand is probably tugging on his hair now, mocking him. He shrugs his shoulders, shaking off the unwelcome image.
"Okay," Neil decides, straightening his shoulders. "Who?"
Dan looks on in disbelief, sighing heavily and shaking his head, and just her expression saying how stupid this idea is. Matt gives him a reassuring high-five. Allison grins, clearly anticipating victory, and contemplates, scanning the students in the cafeteria for a victim.
Trying not to feel a little excited, he thinks he can handle it. It's not that difficult, is it? It's a good challenge for him and his social skills. Maybe by being on the other side of the coin, Neil will finally start to understand when people are flirting with him. It will really help him avoid awkward situations. Yes, it's a done deal. Definitely. He will do it.
"Andrew Minyard."
He won't do it. No way. Just not him.
All heads at the table turn to Rene in startling synchrony, eyes filled with varying degrees of disbelief. The girl stares at Neil so intently that he swallows nervously, feeling his palms sweat. Fuck, she can't know, can she? God, he hopes she doesn't.
"Minyard?" Matt repeats, as if to make sure he hasn't misheard.
Neil is horrified to see Allison's lips stretch into the widest smile she's given them today. It's a hyena's smile, all right. It doesn't bode well, and when he locks eyes with her, it's confirmed. Their target has been chosen.
"Is he even interested in guys?" Dan asks doubtfully.
With a treacherous sinking feeling, Neil thinks he doesn't want to know the answer to that question.
"He's gay," Rene nods.
Fuck. Staring at the ripe green apple that lay on the tray in front of him, he licks his lips, feeling a loud rumble in his ears. Everyone is looking at Rene again. There's suspicion in their eyes, and they have a few questions on their tongues, but Renee ignores them: smiling and typing on her phone. Then they turn to where Neil knows Minyard is sitting at a table with his twin and cousin. After a pause, he gulps and turns around too.
Andrew Minyard was perhaps the most enigmatic and unsociable guy at Palmetto University. He had a single expression on his face, which conveyed complete indifference and deadly boredom. He always wore black clothing, which contrasted sharply with the pallor of his skin and light, almost white, hair. He has also black wristbands, which are always covering his skin from the wrists to the elbows. It is said that he hides his knives there, which he uses to threaten anyone who dares to cross the invisible boundaries of Andrew and his family.
Andrew Minyard was nicknamed the Monster for his apathy, lack of emotion, and excessive aggression, but Neil knew that wasn't true. He had known real Monsters in his life, and Andrew wasn't one of them. It seemed to Neil that only he looked and could see through the facade of indifference the true emotions beneath. It seemed to him that only he could see the Andrew's, honey melted colored, eyes truly feelings, where there were sometimes too many emotions.
Andrew Minyard was mysterious, interesting, and dangerous – so attractive that just thinking about him made his breath catch.
“I’ll take the bet.”
He could say that he was feeling excited. He could say that it was just an absurd desire to prove to Allison and Dan that he wasn't hopeless. He could come up with a million excuses for his act, but the truth, so ridiculously simple, knew only him.
Hiding behind a stupid bet, Neil was hoping to find out if there was even a simple chance for him to be with Andrew Minyard. The man who had been holding his heart captive for months.
***
Neil isn't sure that in the last three minutes he blinked at least once. The phone in his hands feels like a red-hot iron. The screen displays a new contact, whose phone number Allison kindly provided. He hasn't even written anything yet, but his heart is racing anyway, threatening to burst out of his chest. His hands are slightly sweaty, and Neil groans, thinking that he's quite pathetic. Thankfully, his roommate is still in class, and there are no witnesses to this small panic.
It's one thing to observe from a distance, but it's quite another to take action. Neil never would have imagined that falling in love would have such a profound impact on him. A few years ago, when he contemplated these matters, feelings and relationships didn't seem particularly remarkable or surprising to him. In fact, he wasn't particularly interested in them.
Nothing prepared him for Andrew fucking Minyard. It's truly pretty pathetic, considering they only talked once a few months ago, and it's still hard to call it a conversation.
In early September, at a welcome party for first-year students, – Neil still can't figure out how he ended up there – surrounded by drunken students, he had a panic attack. The loud music pounded in his ears; people were pushing and laughing and shouting – and it all became too much. Pushing through the crowd with his elbows, he made his way to the backyard just as his legs were shaking, his vision was blurring, and he was gasping for air. And that's where he met Andrew.
A short blond man was indifferently smoking a cigarette, leaning against the railing. Neil didn't even notice him at first, trying to take a shuddering breath and failing. All he could do was open his mouth and grab his throat, hating himself at that moment, and the whole situation in general. He shouldn't have come, he knew how it could end. His legs were starting to give out, and he leaned against the wall of the house, feeling his consciousness slipping away from him.
And only then the fingers snapped in front of his eyes and a voice said firmly:
"Stop it, idiot."
He was able to focus and see the apathetic face in front of him that was only slightly frowning. The fingers that had snapped in front of his face twitched again, and Neil saw the lips on the unfamiliar face move.
"I'm going to touch your neck."
It was a question or a statement, Neil wasn't sure, but he nodded anyway. At that moment, a warm hand wrapped around his neck from behind, providing a sense of comfort and grounding. Neil took a shaky breath when someone's hand squeezed slightly.
"Breathe.”
And Neil obeyed, taking slow breaths, not taking his eyes off the attentive brown eyes opposite, which seemed dark in the light of the street lamp. The stranger waited patiently for the panic attack to end, and only when Neil completely relaxed his shoulders, he removed his hand and walked away, taking a cigarette from a pack. Neil stood there in silence for a while, processing the horror of the realization that not only had someone seen him in such a pitiful state, but they had also helped him return to reality. He felt incredibly awkward and ashamed, but more he also felt a deep sense of gratitude. For some reason, Neil knew that the guy wouldn't mock him for this weakness.
"Thank you," he finally managed to croak out after another minute of silence.
The blond man, who had been watching him out of the corner of his eye, shrugged indifferently and turned away, leaning against the railing of the terrace once again. Neil swallowed and stood next to him, keeping a respectful distance between them. The guy held out an open pack of cigarettes in a silent offer. For a while they stood in silence – the stranger smoking and Neil inhaled the pungent smoke, finding familiar solace in it.
"I'm Neil," In the end, he broke the silence
There was a pause.
"I didn't ask," Neil smiled for some reason. His companion took a tired breath. "Andrew.”
And that's how he learned the name of the guy that would from that moment on haunt all his thoughts for months to come. The rest of the night they spent together, standing side by side on the terrace and smoking cigarettes, exchanging only the occasional small talk. Occasionally they would both wince in unison at the sound of someone vomiting in the bushes, but mostly they spent their time in a pleasant and comfortable silence between them.
A couple of hours later, Andrew pushed himself off the railing, threw his cigarette away, and headed inside the house. With some sixth sense, Neil realized that the guy wasn't coming back. He wanted to say goodbye.
"Hey," he called out softly. Andrew turned around, raising an eyebrow. "Thank you.”
For the silence and the company, he wanted to add, but he changed his mind. And then, for the first time in a long time, Neil genuinely smiled when Andrew saluted him with two fingers, chuckling. For some reason, Neil thought it wasn't over yet as he watched the guy disappear through the door.
It was the end. They didn't talk anymore. Never. After that party, Neil was absolutely childishly happy when he saw Andrew on campus. But Andrew barely looked at then then, immediately turning away, showing disinterest with his whole appearance. Neil was even a little confused, feeling unusual for him disappointment. Later, Neil found out that Andrew was a second-year student, which meant that there was no opportunity to meet him in joint classes, as well as at parties, because, obviously, Neil was now avoiding them like the plague.
And now, six months later, he was absolutely certain that Andrew didn't even remember him. Neil himself couldn't forget. His mild interest turned into some kind of obsession, and later, into a crush. He found out Andrew's major, where he usually sat at lunch, who he hung out with. It's not like Neil was a stalker or someone like this, he just was observant, okay? He himslef didn't notice that he was staring too often, too intently. Didn't notice that he was thinking that Andrew was damn handsome. He liked seeing the composure on his beautiful face and the aura of danger surrounding Andrew. Neil felt calmer just by looking at this guy. It seemed that the whole world could be on fire, but Andrew would stay firmly standing.
Andrew was also a member of the university's exy team, and he was an incredibly awesome goalkeeper, which made Neil even more interested in him. Neil himself didn't play, – an old injury didn't allowed – although he loved exy with all his heart.
With a sad chuckle and a sigh, Neil ruffled his red curls. He straightened his shoulders and settled more comfortably on the bed, sitting cross-legged. Okay, he'll just do it. It's not that difficult, right? It's just flirting. All he has to do is text.
...and what to text?
Neil let out a strangled groan, biting his lip in desperation. Okay, he probably needs Google's help. He felt like an absolute idiot as he typed: «How to flirt with a guy over text» into the search bar, hoping that not a single soul would find out about this. He'll have to remember to clear my browser history. Just in case.
«Your smile is as wide as my bed.»
"I've never seen him smile," Neil mutters under his breath, immediately closing the tab and clicking on the next link. It started out pretty well. Start a conversation and be mysterious. In Neil's humble opinion – he is already a mystery.
«Hi. Does your mom happen to own a flower shop? Because you're a beautiful flo...»
Neil didn't even finish reading.
«You're so cute, that anyone would develop diabetes with you.»
The idea of banging his head against the wall suddenly became too tempting. With each passing minute, Neil felt more and more hopeless. After seemingly endless links to nonsensical and downright absurd advice (Neil may be an idiot, but not to that extent – at least he could understand that it's better not to start a conversation with a stranger by saying: «Here I am, what were your other two wishes?»), he finally found something that made sense and was straightforward.
If you are not in a relationship, start a romantic conversation first. This will make the guy understand your intentions. For example, you can write «I dreamed about you today» which will immediately show the other person that you often think about them and are interested in them.
Well, it sounds good, right? Gathering his courage, he nervously types out the message and quickly hits the send button, afraid of changing his mind.
Neil [15:20] Hi, I was dreaming about you today
He feels proud of himself for exactly ten seconds. The next minute, he frantically searches for the option to cancel the message, feeling incredibly frustrated when he discovers that there is no such option. Fuck. Did he really text Andrew Minyard?
Panic rises in his chest, and he really wants to grab a pillow, bury his face in it, and scream. Remembering that he's actually not five years old and is already an adult eighteen-year-old, he throws the pillow back. The phone flies next. Gosh, he's so stupid.
For the next few hours, he resolutely refuses to touch his phone, trying to focus on his math homework. Usually, math helps him clear his head by organizing his thoughts, but not today. Every few seconds, his hands twitch, wanting to check if there's a new message. He's saved from his melancholy and anxiety by his roommate, who returns from class.
"Why are you so gloomy?" Jean asks, dropping his bag near his bed.
It's funny to hear him say that. In the six months they've been roommates, Neil hasn't seen Jean smile much. Which is actually not really a bad thing. Jean is calm and quiet, and Neil couldn't ask for a better roommate, and he considers it a huge blessing that they were put together. They shouldn't have been, because Jean is a sophomore and Neil is a freshman, but there weren't enough rooms, so…
"I'm not gloomy," Neil grumbles, glancing at his damn phone again.
Jean mumbles something behind him as he changes into his pajamas. Neil sighs, closing his textbook. Glancing at the clock, he notices that it's already six o'clock in the evening. His stomach rumbles uncomfortably, reminding him that he hasn't seen food since lunch.
"How was your day?”
Neil freezes, ready to get up and walk to the vending machine on their floor to grab something to eat. They usually don't ask each other about their days. He squints, taking a closer look at his friend's face.
"What did Allison tell you?"
Jean shrugs, studying him with curiosity.
"That you're an idiot, and you'd made a bet."
"I'm not an idiot," Neil protests, but without much heat.
"So you're really going to seduce Minyard?" Jean asks, sitting down on his bed.
Neil feels himself blush. He doesn't... he doesn't going to seduce Andrew. That's not the goal. If Neil will be honest with himself, he doesn't have any hopes. He just wants to get to know Andrew. To find out what he likes and dislikes, what he's afraid of, what he dreams of. Neil internally winces at the saccharine nature of his thoughts. He really doesn't think Andrew would interested in him in any way, but... he just wants to talk.
Jean raises his eyebrows, no doubt surprised by the red blush on Neil's cheeks. And, well... To be honest, out of all his friends, Jean is probably the only one Neil would confess his crush on Andrew Minyard to. He knows he won't be judged. Firstly, because Jean doesn't care, and he won't make a big deal out of it. Neil shudders at the thought of what would happen if Matt or, even worse, Allison found out. Secondly,... Well, the first reason is quite enough.
He says, however, something completely different, trying to sound as casual as possible.
“Just will flirt with him.”
Okay, it sounds even more stupid when he says it out loud.
“Just will flrt,” Jean echoes, sounding too disbelieving for Neil’s taste, “with Minyard.”
Neil nods solemnly.
“Yeah.”
He's expecting another «You don't know how to flirt» but to his surprise, Jean just sighs and shakes his head. Neil can't tell if it's a sigh of frustration or more amusement. Judging by his friend's twitching lips and furrowed brow, it's a mix of both.
"Do you want to watch a movie?"
"Yes, please," Neil sighs in relief, not wanting to continue the conversation.
After quickly running to the vending machine and grabbing some snacks, Neil and Jean settle on the latter's bed, placing the laptop between them. Neil pays no attention to the movie, completely immersed in his thoughts. And if Jean noticed that Neil was unusually silent and distant, he didn't show it, only occasionally casting thoughtful glances at his friend. And Neil still wonders what he'll do if Andrew doesn't respond. Maybe he will try again tomorrow and write another message? Or is it too early and he should wait?
By the time they'd finished watching the movie and Jean had gone to take a shower, Neil was completely frazzled and, frankly, exhausted. He has such a habit – fill his mind with unhappy and gloomy thoughts, imagining the worst-case scenario. As he fell onto his bed, he unlocked the phone he'd been trying to forget about all evening, and his heart skipped a beat.
Andrew [20:34] and what were you dreaming about?
Neil blinks a couple of times, feeling too many things at once: bewilderment, joy, embarrassment. Andrew has respond to him. God, he has respond! Neil feels pathetic: how could just a message make his palms sweat? Not to mention that his face is probably red. Fuch, it's a good thing Jean isn't in the room.
But what is Andrew asking about?
Because, obviously, Neil is an idiot and has forgotten what he wrote in his message. After re-reading what he sent, Neil closes his eyes, thinking that he is a moron. It is clear that he didn't dream about Andrew. Well, not today. The last dream, of a very non-childish content, which confused every cell in Neil's body, he'll not even remember. However, something must be said. He decided to stop at a simple:
Neil [21:07] you
The reply comes quickly. The phone in his hands vibrates, making Neil jump.
Andrew [21:08] eloquent
Neil doesn't have time to feel embarrassed. Another message follows.
Andrew [21:08] why are you texting me?
And now he's embarrassed, but he decides to answer truthfully. Well, as truthfully as possible, If he leave out all that crap about bet.
Neil [21:10] I want to get to know you
Already anticipating a new message, he is unwittingly disappointed when the answer does not come in the next minute. As well as an hour later. Jean managed to return to the room, casting a surprised glance at Neil, who was hypnotizing his phone with his eyes, and did not even noticed the return of his neighbor. For Jean, this is certainly a strange sight: usually, Neil does not sit in his phone, ignoring the rest of the world. He in general sometimes has to be reminded that this thing is for his friends to be able to call him, and it would be nice if Neil charged it. But taking into account today's bet, Jean wisely decided to leave the guy alone and not comment on the unusual situation.
Realizing that there was no point in waiting, Neil put his phone aside and went to take a shower. He washed his face, brushed teeth, avoiding looking in the mirror, and returned to the room more or less relaxed, immediately climbing into bed. Jean was already asleep by that time. But the phone was flashing an unread message.
Andrew [22:31] why
Neil [22:40] You're interesting
This time, he was prepared for the fact that the answer wouldn't come immediately. If it came at all... Pulling out his headphones, he clicked on the first video he came across on youtube. The cute cats doing all sorts of shit so distracted him from thinking about Andrew, that he jumped when a notification popped up on top of the video.
Andrew [22:52] what about a game in 21 questions?
And Neil... had no idea what it was, but he, of course, would agree, because it was Andrew. Andrew Minyard, who continued to respond to him and even suggested playing... well, something. His disbelief was mixed with a silly excitement, just from the simple realization that Andrew was responding to him. Neil wonders for a moment what Andrew's goals are. Although it might be quite common for him to receive messages from strangers. Something in his chest clenches and growls at the thought, but Neil tries to ignore it.
Neil [22:53] What is it?
Andrew [22:54] take turns asking any questions
And as if to mock:
Andrew [22:54] you must answer honestly
Neil bit his lip.
Neil [22:55] And if I can't answer honestly?
Andrew [22:55] then don't answer and I'll ask another question
Andrew [22:55] it works both ways
A pleasant shiver runs down his spine, and Neil is once again convinced that his heart has chosen the right person. Andrew won't insist if Neil doesn't want to reveal all the dark secrets of his past. He won't pry, as other people often do, until they receives an eloquent request to go fuck themself.
Neil [22:57] Okay, fine
Andrew [22:57] What's your name?
A quite fair question. It's fair if Andrew will know Neil's name, because Neil is full-know who he's writing to, but Andrew has no idea who he's talking to. But he can't write his real name... After some thought, Neil decides to share a truth that a little knows, but that means a lot.
Neil [22:59] Abram
Andrew [23:00] I suppose that's not your real name?
Neil [23:00] It's more real than I am, but yes. It's my middle name.
He wanted to add that it was what his mother called him, but he decided to save that truth for another time.
Andrew [23:04] now it's your turn, Abram
A slight shiver, like a breath of wind, ran across his skin at the mere sight of his name being typed by another person. Neil suddenly desperately wanted to hear how his name will sounds on Andrew's lips. He closed his eyes for a moment and imagined it. His breath caught in his throat.
Suddenly, the fantasy came to an end when Jean mumbled something in his sleep, turning over on the other side. Neil shuddered, clutching his phone to his chest. After waiting for his neighbor to settle down, he exhaled quietly and looked at the latest message again. He had more questions than there were students at the university, which one should he ask? Neil thought for a moment, biting his lips. He looked at the time and suddenly remembered that shitty advice about being mysterious. The idea came to him immediately. A slight smile appeared on his face.
Neil [23:06] I'll save my turn for tomorrow
Neil [23:06] Good night :)
Now he had a legitimate reason to continue their correspondence. With a happy sigh, he turned off the table lamp, set the alarm, and climbed under the covers. His cheeks ached slightly from the smile that stretched his lips. Hugging his pillow, he buried in it with his face, releasing a soft sigh. The image of Andrew, idly smoking a cigarette on that damned terrace, flashed through his mind.
That night he quickly fell into a peaceful sleep.
***
The next morning, the anxiety returned in full force. Throughout the day at the university, Neil walked with his head down, trying not to look at anyone. He flinched at anyone who came closer than three meters. He pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his fingers; lowered the hood, covering his red hair. Through his overgrown bangs, he glittered with hunted blue eyes. From the outside, he appeared fearful, resembling himself from the beginning of September, trying to become invisible in the crowd of students.
It wasn't any better in class. Absent-mindedly sitting on his seat, Neil successfully tuned out the entire lecture. His leg bounced restlessly, and he more than once felt the disapproving gaze of a guy at the next table. Neil ignored him, licking the blood from a deep bite on his lower lip.
He was very nervous. Every cell in his body was tense. Neil was terrified of meeting Andrew and accidentally making eye contact, because he was sure: he would immediately understand everything from his eyes. Would understand that Neil was the one who was texting him. Would understand that Neil was attracted to him. Would understand, and at best, he would blacklist Neil.
It wasn't until he reached the dining hall and met his friends that he began to relax. Maybe if they had been in the same class, they might have been able to snap him out of his stupor and anxiety early, but at the university, they only had the opportunity to see each other at lunch. Neil didn't really worry about not having any friends among the first-year students – Matt, Dan, Allison, and Rene were more than enough. This was more than he had expected when he first arrived at the university.
A funny coincidence – all of his close friends play exy, and the guy he's in love with is their best goalkeeper. Neil feels a bit jealous – they have the opportunity, even if they don't communicate, to be on the same field as Andrew; to witness firsthand his incredible ability to close the gates; After training and games to change in the same locker room and see the flushed, sweaty skin... There Neil stopped, feeling a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. It was embarrassing to him to think about it, as if he wasn't allowed to.
"... and then that guy was called to the board, well and wasn't it funny?”
Out of the corner of his ear listening to the conversation at the table and stretching his neck, Neil turned around as if by chance. His gaze immediately fell on Andrew Minyard, as if there were no other hundred students filling the dining hall. Neil held his breath. Andrew, as always, was sitting at his usual table and calmly munching on his French fries, paying no attention to his cousin's ramblings. Neil was struck once again by that guy: the whole world could be falling apart, but Andrew still would be calm. He didn't look worried or suspicious, and he didn't look around for his mysterious admirer. Neil took this as a good sign.
"How are you doing?" Allison's voice reached him.
Neil abruptly turned around, feeling an unpleasant crunch in his neck. Everyone at the table was staring at him, which was very embarrassing. He had hoped that they hadn't noticed who he had been looking at for, it seems, the past few minutes, but then he realized what Allison was asking, and his hopes were dashed. Trying to calm himself and suppress an unwelcome blush, he cleared his throat, shrugging his shoulders.
"Normal."
"Normal?" Allison asked skeptically.
"So you text him?" Dan was surprised.
Her tone alarmed Neil. Matt's hand hovered in the air, not completely bringing a glass of orange juice to his mouth. Only Rene smiled at him, but that didn't inspire him with much optimism, watching the reaction of the others.
"Well, yeah, so what?" Neil frowned. "I thought that was the point of the bet."
The girls looked at each other.
"And... the Monster answered you?" Allison asked in disbelief.
Neil's fists clenched under the table at the nickname.
"Allison," Rene said with reproach.
But her friend just waved her off, waiting for Neil to respond. It took all of Neil's self-control not to snap back at her. He could already feel his anger boiling within him, wanting to point out and demonstrate to Allison who the real Monster was. His father had taught him a lot. Instead, he swallowed his rage.
"Yes, he did.”
Allison's eyes lit up, while Matt coughed, choking on his juice. Dan patted his back affectionately, giving Neil a stunned look. Rene mumbled something, hiding her smile behind her glass.
"Minyard," Matt croaked with watering eyes, "answered you?"
Seriously, what's wrong? Neil was starting to get annoyed.
"Yes."
"What did he say?" Allison leaned forward. “No, wait, what did you text?”
“Allison,” Rene reprimanded her friend again.
Neil was a little grateful for that. He wouldn't tell them anything anyway, but he didn't want to quarrel, and he was already seconds away from exploding. Dan cleared her throat delicately.
"It's just... Andrew," she raised her eyebrows, as if that said it all. Actually, it didn't. Neil stared at her. Dan sighed. "Forgive us for being curious, we're just surprised. He doesn't interact with anyone except Aaron and Nicky."
"And Kevin," Matt added thoughtfully.
"And Kevin," Dan confirmed. "You can't get a word out of him in training. We've been on the same team for two years, and I don't know anything about him.”
The news about Kevin came as a surprise to Neil. Kevin Day was a star offensive player who had transferred from Edgar Allan University to Palmetto last year. There was some kind of shady deal going on with his old team, but Neil didn't really delve into the details. He didn't know that Andrew was hanging out with anyone other than his family, as at the university he was either alone or with Aaron and Nicky. Kevin was never around. It was hard for Neil to imagine them together. Alison chuckled.
"Maybe Minyard's love life is really bad, so he decided to, you know, with the first person he met, who texted him..."
"Allison," Rene interrupted her again with a steely voice.
The conversation faded into the background, and Neil cringed inwardly. There was some truth in Allison's words, if not all of it. He really had no idea why Andrew had responded. Maybe he really had become so bored that he decided to engage with a stranger. Or... Neil suddenly realized that he might have come across as easily accessible to Andrew. He began to feel sick.
And he felt sick of himself too, because despite all the unpleasant thoughts about Andrew's motives, he still wanted to keep texting to him. As long as he had the opportunity, he would take everything he could. About the consequences he would worry later.
"Neil, are you okay?" Rene asked worriedly.
Coming out of his thoughts, he blinked.
"You became pale," Matt remarked.
"I'm fine," Neil waves it off, looking down at the tray in front of him. He doesn't feel like eating.
The friends stare at him for a while longer, and then return to their interrupted conversation, discussing something about the team and the upcoming game. Only Rene stares at him for a moment longer, and then glances behind him. Her lips twitch, but he doesn't have time to ask her about it. The girl focuses on her meal as if nothing had happened.
Neil sighs, mutters something about classes starting soon, and leaves, smiling at his friends one last time. And when he exits the cafeteria, he feels a burning gaze on him. Turning around, Neil looked around, but he still couldn't find anyone looking at him. Even his friends were chatting happily, oblivious to their surroundings. Shrugging his shoulders and dismissing it as paranoia, Neil heads off to class, trying not to think about it at all.