Chapter Text
It had been another uneventful day at college. Till had barely started drifting off in class when the final bell rang, abruptly dismissing the last period of the day. He quickly stood and gathered his belongings, slipping his earbuds in before anyone could stop him with fake questions about MCR or Pierce the Veil. He’d already endured enough ridicule for one day.
He had barely stepped past the doorway when a swarm of students and cheerleaders flooded into the busiest hallway on campus, completely blocking any path to the exit. Till furrowed his brows as confetti cannons burst overhead and pom-poms waved wildly in his face. He hated these stupid school parades, especially when they were for something as pointless as football. Every Friday, the campus treated the sport like the center of the universe, and with playoffs approaching, the obsession had only gotten worse.
Not that Till cared. He just wished it would end already.
All week, students had been preaching about school spirit and supporting the team, but like every other campus event, Till never bothered attending. Not once. The closest he ever came was tagging along to book club with Sua, though even then he mostly sat in the corner sketching in his notebook. Really, he only went because of Mizi. She and Sua were probably the only friends he had on campus.
Mostly Mizi, if he was being honest. Sua always seemed irritated by his presence, like she barely tolerated him. She’d sigh whenever he sat beside Mizi and looked especially annoyed whenever he started rambling about music. Sometimes Till wondered if she was jealous of how close he and Mizi were. He couldn’t understand why, though. Everyone knew he had a crush on Mizi since high school. Back then, she’d been the only person willing to show him even the smallest bit of kindness. And with how gorgeous she was, who wouldn’t fall for her? He was honestly still surprised she was single.
He’d tried asking her out during their freshman year of college, but she’d turned him down gently. He never held it against her, though. Having her as a friend was already more than enough for him. If anything, the rejection had brought them closer then he’d expected. Over time, he’d started opening up to her about things he couldn’t tell anyone else.
He’d even told her about—
“Move out the way, freak.”
Two voices sneered behind him before rough hands shoved against his shoulders, throwing him straight into the moving crowd. Till immediately got swept up in the parade of students and was forced to match their pace if he didn’t want to be trampled beneath hundreds of feet. Clutching his belongings tightly to his chest, he felt his earbuds swing wildly around his neck as he was jostled between shoulders.
Fucking great.
Till searched frantically for a gap between students, stumbling over stray feet as he forced his way through the crowd. The deeper he pushed into the parade, the louder the shouting in his ears became. People shot him irritated glances and scoffed as he squeezed past them, but he ignored it. He didn’t have the patience today. Up ahead, the procession was nearing the school garden, an open space. Finally, an opportunity to break free and go home.
He was sick of this. More than usual today.
His eyes drifted toward the cheerleaders marching ahead, dressed in their school’s burgundy and white colors. Their pom-poms flashed and brushed together as they moved through the routine they performed before every game. He imagined Mizi was probably at the very front of the formation, considering she was captain. Standing just ahead of the players themselves.
Till’s expression darkened.
He couldn’t stand the football team, the stars of this whole ridiculous spectacle put on every week. Every one of them acted conceited and untouchable, like they were above everyone else on campus. Especially him. Ever since freshman year, when he’d accidentally wandered into their locker room thinking it was the restroom, they’d treated him like a joke. Three years later, they still hadn’t let him live it down.
He hated them. Acorn, Marty, Ivan.
Till’s eyes narrowed slightly at the last name.
The football captain. The heartthrob of all ANAKT. And really, that wasn’t even an exaggeration. Girls would probably donate their organs if it meant going on a date with him, or even just getting him to glance their way. And somehow, by pure bad luck, Till happened to stand directly in between their chances by being seated next to Ivan during calculus. And after just a few months, he’d completely lost count of how many times girls had asked him to permanently switch seats so they could spend the semester paired with Ivan instead. Every single time, Till said no. Sure, he had nothing against those girls, but he’d rather not spend an entire class period listening to painfully obvious flirting attempts. Besides, he never really understood what the big deal was in the first place.
It was just a seat.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
Even after all that, Till still found himself stealing glances at Ivan whenever he could. His eyes always drifted toward the stupid red jacket he wore all the time, or the raven hair that somehow fell perfectly no matter what. And worst of all was the snaggletooth. Till had caught himself noticing it more times than he cared to admit. The way it peeked out beneath Ivan’s top lip whenever he focused during football games, or how it become fully visible whenever he smiled for real.
Not that Till actually went to any games. He only watched clips from his phone sometimes. Just to support Mizi and see her choreography at the beginning of the show. Nothing else. Till closed his eyes briefly and let out a quiet sigh. The truth was, he didn’t really hate Ivan. Not even a little. Ivan had never actually been mean to him, not even after the locker room incident. Till still remembered the day Ivan approached him afterward and quietly asked if he was okay. He’d probably seen the relentless shoving and heard the constant name-calling all day long.
And while Till definitely wasn’t okay, he’d still answered yes for whatever reason.
And that was the first time he noticed the snaggletooth.
Maybe it was after that day that Till started feeling this way about him. He couldn’t explain what it was exactly, only that it existed. Even though they weren’t anywhere close to being friends, they still had small interactions every now and then. Tiny moments, but enough for Till to hold onto them anyway. The occasional wave. Ivan asking him for an extra pencil. Offering to take Till’s worksheet to the front so he wouldn’t have to get up himself. Even showing him strange pictures on his phone whenever he managed to catch Till looking his way, usually something ridiculous like a hybrid cat owl that Ivan found hilarious for some reason.
None of it was anything special. The only other person who even slightly knew what Till was feeling was Mizi, and that was only because she’d caught him sketching Ivan during book club one afternoon. Till had immediately made her swear not to tell anyone. Not even Sua. Mizi happily promised she wouldn’t. She always seemed strangely supportive of his delusions after that, though maybe that was just because she was the most cheerful and optimistic person he knew. Either way, it didn’t really matter. Ivan was never going to find out about any of this, and that was exactly how it needed to stay.
For his sake, at least. He wouldn’t know what he would do if word got out he had feelings for the football captain.
I’d kill myself.
Till could finally see the exit ahead. A few students stood by the doors holding them open as the parade slowly began breaking apart near the garden, groups splitting off in different directions and finally giving him room to breathe. Till’s eyes widened slightly. This was his chance to get out of there.
Without thinking twice, he picked up his pace and pushed forward, breaking into a light sprint as a wide gap opened in front of him. He rushed toward it at full speed, desperate to escape before the parade clogged the space again. He’d already had more than enough football for one day, and the last thing he wanted was to see the players gathered around the fountain before the game like they always were.
And he especially didn’t want to see Ivan. Not now, at least.
Suddenly, a student stepped directly into his path. Till let out a startled gasp as he slammed into their shoulder, the impact knocking him off balance and sending him stumbling forward straight into—
“IVAN!”
Students screamed as Till slammed into Ivan’s chest, sending both of them crashing into the garden fountain with a loud splash. For a second, all Till could hear was a muffled gasp before the water swallowed the sound completely. The screaming around them faded into a dull blur ringing in his ears. Till opened his eyes underwater and immediately felt panic rise in his chest when he recognized the number thirteen stretched across the jersey beneath his hands.
Oh no. Shitshitshitshit.
He resurfaced instantly, gasping as he grabbed onto the edge of the fountain. Water dripped down his face and soaked through his clothes while Ivan emerged beside him a second later, just as drenched. Ivan lifted a hand and wiped water from his eyes before turning his head toward Till with an unreadable expression.
Till felt heat crawl up his neck. Not because Ivan was close, but because of the sheer embarrassment of the situation. He had just shoved ANAKT’s precious football captain into the fountain in front of practically the whole school. Till slowly looked around and immediately wished he hadn’t. Students already had their phones out recording. Cheerleaders were rushing toward the fountain after tossing their pom-poms onto the ground in panic. The noise around him grew louder by the second.
Till froze in place, terrified that if Ivan didn’t hate him before, he definitely would now. He watched Ivan part his lips like he was about to say something, but before a single word could leave his mouth, several hands reached down to pull him out of the fountain first.
“Ivan!” A girl shrieked. “Are you okay?” Another rushed over with her jacket and started wiping the water from his face. Till watched silently as the football team and cheerleaders crowded around Ivan all at once, yelling over each other and sending students to grab paper towels. Then one of the girls suddenly turned and pointed directly at Till, who was still sitting in the fountain.
“It’s his fault for not watching where he’s going!”
Till immediately snapped out of his daze, anxiety crawling up his spine as he hurried to climb out of the fountain himself. More than anything, he just wanted to leave.
But before he could fully pull himself over the edge, a strong hand shoved against his chest and sent him crashing back into the water. Another hand splashed him the second he resurfaced. Till threw his arms up in front of his face, brows furrowing in frustration. “IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!” he shouted, shoving at whoever stood closest to him. “GET OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!” Then a fist suddenly slammed against his cheek. The hit was hard enough to send Till stumbling backward into the fountain again, water splashing around him as pain shot across his face.
“An accident?” Acorn raised a brow while Marty snorted beside him. “Just like the locker room?”
“How many accidents can one faggot have?” Marty laughed.
That was when Till heard the laughter spreading beyond the football team. Students all across the garden were laughing now, their phones raised proudly as they recorded everything happening in front of them. Till felt his throat tighten painfully, the sting in his cheek barely registering compared to the humiliation crawling through his chest. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to disappear. The second he pushed himself upright and tried climbing out again, a rough hand suddenly grabbed his hair. Till gasped as he was yanked out of the fountain and dragged through the thick crowd toward Ivan.
“Say sorry,” Marty spat, glaring down at him. Till slowly looked up, trying to steady his breathing, only for his eyes to widen when he locked gazes with Ivan. Before Marty could say anything else, Ivan suddenly shoved past the cheerleaders and pushed Marty away from Till, his brows furrowed in frustration. “What is wrong with you?” Ivan spoke lowly. He grabbed the jacket one of the girls had been using and tossed it onto the ground before looking back down at Till. Then, after a brief hesitation, he extended his hand toward him.
Till froze again.
His eyes slowly shifted from Ivan’s hand to his face as he became painfully aware of the entire school watching them. He could feel every stare in the garden pressing into him. Every phone pointed in his direction. Every whisper. Till looked back at Ivan one more time before quickly shaking his head. Then he shoved himself off the ground and bolted.
He sprinted out of the garden as fast as he could, barely hearing the shouting behind him over the sound of his own heartbeat. Till refused to look back. He just kept running until the garden and the crowd became smaller and smaller behind him. By the time he reached the front entrance of the school, his legs finally gave out beneath him. Till dropped to his knees, chest heaving violently as he struggled to catch his breath. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes while he lifted a shaky hand to cup his bruised cheek.
He’d made a fool out of himself. Again. And this time, the entire school had seen it. Worse, they had recorded it. Till swallowed hard at the thought of the videos already spreading online by now, students replaying the footage and calling him every name imaginable. The thought alone made his stomach twist. He didn’t even want to look at his phone right now.
He paused. His phone. Till quickly felt around his pockets before throwing his head back in frustration as realization hit him. He’d left all of his belongings back at the fountain. Though realistically speaking, they probably didn’t even work anymore after being submerged in water. Still, he felt a pang of disappointment over his earbuds. They were the only things that made school remotely bearable, and now they were probably ruined too.
Kind of like him.
After what happened today, Till was sure he’d become the school’s favorite joke for the rest of the year. Honestly, he wouldn’t even be surprised if they played the video at graduation the same way they did to Carrie at prom.
There was no recovering from something like this. The only thing he could do now was stay quiet, keep his head down even more than he already did, and hope people eventually forgot about it. Though even as the thought crossed his mind, Till let out a quiet scoff. Nobody was ever going to forget today happened. He knew Ivan wouldn’t. Neither would the football team. Till shivered slightly against the cold floor and wrapped his arms around himself as tears once again began stinging at the corners of his eyes.
But just as he finally felt them about to fall, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed nearby. Before Till could even fully turn around, two arms suddenly wrapped tightly around him.
“TILL!” Mizi pulled him against her chest, holding him so tightly it almost hurt. “Are you okay?” she asked shakily. “Please tell me you’re okay.” Her voice sounded breathless, like she’d been running all over campus looking for him. Till let himself stay there for a moment before weakly lifting a hand and tapping her arm to let her know he was alright enough to breathe. Mizi immediately loosened her grip and pulled back, dropping to her knees in front of him. She quickly dug through her bag for a towel before carefully wiping the water from his face.
“I left the parade early to help set things up for the game,” she explained quietly. “But when I came back, the girls told me what happened.” Her expression crumpled as she lowered her head. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”
Till’s chest tightened at the sight of Mizi’s dejected expression. He quickly reached for her hands and shook his head. “Mizi, it wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I bumped into someone and accidentally pushed Ivan into the fountain. Everything after that was just…” He trailed off for a moment before lowering his gaze. “It was my fault.”
A heavy sigh escaped him as he stared at the ground. “Is Ivan okay?” Mizi immediately nodded. “Don’t worry about him right now. You’re the one who got hurt.” She continued drying his face and damp hair carefully with the towel, but even then, Till still couldn’t stop himself from worrying. Out of everyone he could’ve crashed into, it had to be Ivan.
Granted, if it had been Marty or Acorn instead, Till was pretty sure they would’ve made things even worse. Though at this point, he couldn’t decide if that would’ve been easier to handle than what actually happened. “Do you think he hates me?” Till mumbled quietly. He couldn’t even bring himself to look up at Mizi after asking. Maybe after this, Ivan would ask to switch seats in calculus. Or maybe he’d just move away on his own. Maybe he’d finally start joining in with everyone else.
The thought alone made Till feel sick.
Because no matter how hard he tried, he still couldn’t picture Ivan being cruel to him. It didn’t feel real. But then again, Till barely knew him at all. At least, not nearly as much as he wanted to. And now he wasn’t even sure that was possible anymore. Suddenly, hands grabbed his shoulders and shook him lightly, pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts. “Till!” Mizi frowned and pinched the bridge of her nose in concern.
“I’ve known Ivan for a long time now,” Mizi began, her voice much softer this time. “And if there’s one thing I know about him, it’s that he isn’t like the rest of those guys. You know that too. He wouldn’t hold a grudge over an accident. Please just…” She paused and took a slow breath. “Breathe.” Till stared at her for a moment before inhaling sharply, forcing himself to exhale alongside her as he nodded. Deep down, he knew she was right. He was panicking over nothing. Ivan wouldn’t suddenly start treating him differently because of one mistake. He wasn’t like Marty or Acorn or the rest of the football team. Ivan was kind. He was patient and strangely gentle with everyone around him.
Including Till.
“You’re right,” he said quietly. Till slowly pushed himself off the ground before extending a hand toward Mizi to help her up as well. “Thank you, Mizi. And I’m sorry for worrying you.” The corners of his lips lifted just enough to make her smile back at him. She wrapped her arms around him briefly before quickly pulling away again. “Oh! That reminds me!” Mizi immediately started searching through her tote bag, glancing around with raised brows as she dug through in confusion.
“I could’ve sworn I…”
“Left this with me?”
Another pair of footsteps approached from behind them, followed by a soft, delicate voice. A plastic bag was suddenly held out in front of Mizi.
Mizi chirped excitedly and immediately left Till’s side to throw herself onto Sua, nuzzling her face against her cheek. “Oh, Sua, you’re the best! I completely forgot I gave this to you. I’m sorry for leaving you behind. I was just…” Sua gently pressed a finger to Mizi’s lips and nodded softly. “I know.” Her eyes briefly shifted toward Till with quiet understanding before she and Mizi walked back over to him together. Sua lifted the plastic bag slightly and motioned for him to take it. “It’s yours,” she said softly.
Till carefully took the bag from her small hands and peeked inside, his eyes widening slightly as he pulled out his soaked backpack. “Oh…” He let out an awkward laugh. Opening the bag further, he found his completely drenched phone along with his ruined earbuds. A quiet sigh escaped him at the sight. Losing the earbuds stung more than he wanted to admit. They were the only thing that made classes tolerable, and now they were useless. Still, he continued rummaging through his belongings until his movements slowly came to a stop.
Something’s missing.
The small smile on his face disappeared almost instantly, though he quickly tried to hide it before either of them noticed. “Thank you, guys,” he said quietly, closing the bag and resting it over his arm before turning toward Sua. “You didn’t happen to see a sketchbook floating around, did you?” He tilted his head slightly, hoping they wouldn’t see through the fake calmness in his expression.
Sua shook her head. “We both looked through the fountain and only grabbed what we saw inside your bag.” Mizi nodded beside her. “If you want, we can go back and check!” Before Till could even answer, Mizi had already turned on her heel with her arms linked through Sua’s, like she fully intended on marching right back to the garden herself.
Till immediately held his hands up and shook his head. “Nono, it’s okay! You have a game in a few hours. You should probably get going. I don’t want you missing more rehearsal than you already have.” He forced out a small shrug. “I promise it’s fine. It’s just an old sketchbook.” Outwardly, he sounded completely nonchalant. Internally, he was absolutely losing his fucking mind. That sketchbook was practically filled from cover to cover with drawings of Ivan. If anyone got their hands on it and decided to spread those sketches around school, Till was pretty sure he would simply accept his fate, change his name, and flee the country entirely.
He definitely had to go back and look for it himself. But first, he needed to convince Mizi he was okay. “I’m gonna go check for it on my own before I head home,” he said, already beginning to walk back toward the building. He turned around halfway to wave at the two girls. “Good luck during the dance routine tonight.”
Then he paused awkwardly.
“And thank you again, Mizi. You too, Sua.”
The last part came out quieter, mostly because he and Sua didn’t exactly get along very well. Sua only responded with a soft hum while Mizi bounced onto her tiptoes and waved excitedly. “I hope you find it, Till! Text me when you get home, okay? Bye bye!”
As Till slowly disappeared from view, Sua raised a brow beside her.
“Does he know cheer is different from dance?”
“You can correct him later, babes.”
As soon as Till felt he was far enough away from the girls, he broke into a sprint back toward the fountain, hoping the crowd had finally dispersed and the garden would be empty by now. He shoved the doors open and immediately rushed toward the fountain, leaning over the edge to search the water where he had fallen earlier. He reached a hand into the fountain and swept it around blindly, trying to feel for the sketchbook with his fingertips.
Nothing?
Till pulled his hand back out and furrowed his brows in frustration. “It couldn’t have grown fucking legs,” he muttered to himself while leaning farther over the water to scan the bottom more carefully. It was a black sketchbook. It really shouldn’t have been that hard to find. Unless somebody actually took it. Till slowly leaned back with a sigh, resting both hands against the edge of the fountain as the realization settled in. If Mizi and Sua had somehow missed it, then someone else probably picked it up after everything happened. And if that person opened it—
Till felt his stomach twist.
Whoever found it was probably already taking pictures of every page to post online. And really, there was nothing he could even do about it anymore. He had already humiliated himself in front of the entire school today, so what was one more disaster added on top? Just as Till started pushing himself up from the edge of the fountain, a voice suddenly spoke behind him.
“Lost something?”
Till gasped so hard he nearly slipped straight back into the water. His hand splashed down into the fountain as his body tipped forward, and for one horrifying second, it looked like history was about to repeat itself. But before he could fall, an arm shot out and caught him. Till froze. He turned around, and his heart nearly stopped.
Ivan.
Till let Ivan pull him upright before both of them settled awkwardly onto the fountain’s basin in silence. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Ivan finally opened his mouth. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice was soft. Softer than he had ever heard it before. Till quickly lifted a hand and waved him off. “It’s fine.”
Till wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to say now. The embarrassment from twenty minutes ago still clung to him like a second layer of waterlogged clothing. At least Ivan looked dry now. Maybe he had gone to the locker room and changed already. Till, on the other hand, was still damp and freezing cold, though that was the least of his worries at the moment.
A small part of him still couldn’t shake the fear that Ivan was only here to laugh at him after what happened. If that were the case, Till would understand. Getting shoved into a fountain right before a game was probably enough to ruin anyone’s mood. Which reminded him… Till turned slightly toward him, though he still couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes. Instead, he stared somewhere near Ivan’s shoulder.
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the game?” he asked quietly.
Ivan turned toward him too and gave a small shrug. “I don’t really want to be around the guys right now. What they did was messed up.” Till only hummed softly in response before letting out a quiet sigh. “Still, I’m sorry for pushing you like that. It really was an accident.” He pulled his knees closer to his chest and buried his face against them. No matter how many times he apologized, it would never undo what happened. The damage was already done. By now, the video was probably spreading across every school account imaginable.
Ivan quickly shook his head. “Please don’t apologize. I believe you.” His voice stayed gentle. “I’m the one who should be sorry for not doing more to help you. Marty and Acorn always take things too far. I should’ve—“
“Ivan, it’s okay.” Till cut him off before he could finish. The last thing he wanted was for Ivan to start resenting his teammates because of him. “It would honestly be weird if I wasn’t used to them by now.” A dry laugh escaped him, though it barely sounded like a laugh at all. Still, part of him couldn’t stop wondering what would have happened if he had taken Ivan’s hand earlier instead of running away.
Would Ivan have taken off his jacket and wrapped it around him? Would he have yelled at Marty and Acorn? Forced everyone to delete the videos?
Nah.
That didn’t feel like Ivan at all. Ivan never seemed angry. Till wasn’t even sure he had ever heard him swear before. Even now, he couldn’y bring himself to say fucked up instead of messed up. For some reason, Till thought that was kind of cute.
Like everything else he does.
“But you shouldn’t have to be,” Ivan continued. Then he paused and leaned in slightly, his eyes focusing on Till’s face. “He punched you.” Till let out a quiet sound at the sudden closeness and quickly dropped his legs back down in front of him, forcing the best smile he could manage onto his face. “This?” He gave a weak laugh and pointed toward his cheek. “It’s nothing. Believe me, they’ve done way worse than a fist to my face.” He laughed again, mostly hoping Ivan would laugh too and lighten the mood.
But Ivan didn’t.
He just kept staring at him.
Slowly, Ivan lifted his hand and brushed his knuckle gently against Till’s bruised cheek. Till winced on instinct as the pain finally caught up with him now that the humiliation and panic had faded. But a second later, his face began heating up for an entirely different reason. His heart started pounding hard against his chest.
Ivan’s hand was warm.
Ivan frowned slightly at the reaction. “I’ll talk to them,” he said firmly before finally letting his hand fall back to his side. Till stared at him with his mouth slightly open, his cheeks undoubtedly bright red now as he tried to process what had just happened. “I can’t ask you to do that, Ivan.” He shut his eyes briefly and forced himself to breathe. He was making this into a much bigger deal than it actually was. Ivan had only been checking to see if he was hurt. That’s all. Till opened his eyes again and glanced down absentmindedly toward Ivan’s lap, only then noticing the plastic bag resting there.
Ivan followed his gaze and jumped slightly. “Oh.” He quickly grabbed the bag and opened it. “I completely forgot I came to give this back.” A soft chuckle escaped him, his snaggletooth peeking out almost immediately.
Then he pulled out Till’s sketchbook and held it toward him with a grin.
Till’s eyes widened the moment he saw the sketchbook. Of course Ivan has it. His heart immediately started pounding even harder against his chest. Out of everyone on campus, it just had to end up in the hands of the one person he had spent the last year secretly sketching over and over again. All Till could do now was pray Ivan’s curiosity hadn’t gotten the better of him.
“I was looking for this,” Till said quickly.
Part of him had already assumed the sketchbook was ruined beyond saving after falling into the fountain. The pages had to be soaked through by now, probably warped and tearing apart at the edges. But then Ivan spoke again, a small grin pulling at his lips. “I held it under the hand dryer for a while and patted it down with my jacket,” he explained. “I hope the damage isn’t too bad.”
Till blinked at him in surprise, warmth immediately rushing to his cheeks. “You did?” Ivan shrugged a little at the reaction, still smiling.
“Thank you, Ivan.” Till couldn’t stop himself from grinning back now, even as nervous sweat gathered at the back of his neck. He quickly reached forward and grabbed the edge of the sketchbook, ready to pull it back into his arms.
But Ivan didn’t let go.
Till tugged lightly, confused, before slowly looking up at him with a raised brow. Ivan met his gaze for a second before immediately glancing off to the side again, the grin on his face softening into something almost shy.
“Can I ask you for a favor?”
Till tilted his head in confusion, both of their hands still gripping opposite ends of the sketchbook. He waited for Ivan to continue, his heart racing harder with every passing second. Then Ivan finally spoke. “Can you try drawing me from my right side next time? I hate my left.” He chuckled softly, completely unaware of the way all the color immediately drained from Till’s face. Till ripped the sketchbook out of Ivan’s hands and clutched it tightly against his chest, panic flooding his thoughts all at once. “You… you looked inside?” he shrieked, his brows twitching somewhere between horrified and angry.
Ivan immediately held his hands up in defense. “I’m sorry. I know it’s kind of an unspoken rule not to go through someone’s sketchbook.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure all the pages were dry before I gave it back.” Then he paused briefly. “Besides, I always see you drawing during class. And I’ve noticed the little sketches you leave on our worksheets sometimes.” His expression softened slightly as he looked back at Till. “I like them. I just wanted to see what else you drew.”
Till could only stare at him silently.
“You’re really good at drawing,” Ivan admitted.
Till felt his arms trembling as he held the sketchbook tighter against himself, his brain struggling to process everything at once.
He knows.
He had seen every page. Every sketch. Every stupid date scribbled in the corners. Every drawing Till had spent weeks hiding from everyone else. Ivan knew he had been filling page after page with him for almost a year now. But even worse than that was the realization that Ivan had possession of the sketchbook this entire time.
Which meant one horrifying thing.
Who else had seen it?
Till exhaled sharply before looking back at Ivan. “Did you…” He hesitated for a second, tightening his grip on the sketchbook. “Show anyone else?” Ivan immediately shook his head. He placed a hand over his chest and drew an X across it. “Cross my heart.” Till quietly let out the breath he had been holding. He decided to believe him. Really, Ivan had no reason to lie about something like that. At least, Till hoped he didn’t.
But that still left the bigger problem.
Ivan knew.
He knew Till owned an entire sketchbook dedicated to drawing him, and the thought alone made heat rush straight back into Till’s face. Worse, there was a very real chance Ivan had connected the dots by now. Maybe he already realized Till liked him. Maybe the pages made it painfully obvious. Till’s thoughts spiraled as he clutched the sketchbook even tighter against his chest.
For a while, Ivan stayed quiet beside him. He leaned back slightly and tilted his head toward the sky, his expression soft and thoughtful. Till immediately took advantage of the fact Ivan was no longer looking at him and stole another glance.
His heart skipped.
If Ivan had never discovered the sketchbook, Till probably would have wanted to draw him exactly like this. The way the evening light caught against his dark hair. The relaxed shape of his mouth. The stupidly pretty side profile. A small grin tugged at Till’s lips before Ivan suddenly looked back at him, startling him so badly he nearly jumped. “I have an idea.” Ivan turned toward him fully and reached a hand toward the sketchbook.
“I’ll draw you for a change.”
Till let out a dramatic gasp at the mere idea of Ivan drawing him, immediately tilting his head in disbelief. The image alone was enough to make his cheeks burn even hotter. But despite his disbelief, Till still found himself handing the sketchbook over anyway. He watched nervously as Ivan pulled a heavily chewed pen from his pocket and flipped to the next clean page. As the pages turned, glimpses of sketch after sketch of Ivan flashed between them, making Till instinctively shrink further into himself.
Then Ivan suddenly hesitated.
Instead of continuing to the blank page, he carefully flipped backward through the sketchbook until he stopped on one particular drawing. Till froze immediately and opened his mouth to protest, but Ivan spoke first.
“This one’s my favorite.”
His voice came out softer this time as he pointed at the page with the cap of his pen, tapping lightly near the drawing of his snaggletooth.“You always make my snaggletooth look cute somehow.”
Till relaxed slightly at that and let out a quiet chuckle, shrugging his shoulders. “You make it easy.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Till immediately stiffened while Ivan paused too, clearly catching the implication behind the comment. For a second, neither of them moved. Then Ivan suddenly laughed quietly to himself.
“Can’t say I agree with that.” His voice softened near the end of the sentence while the pen cap continued gently tapping against the page. “The guys think it’s my worst feature.”
Till furrowed his brows almost instantly. “You’re taking criticism from them?” he scoffed. He had to physically stop himself from saying something worse about Ivan’s teammates. Sure, they were good at football, but when it came to looks, Ivan had every single one of them beat without even trying.
“I think it’s one of your best.” Till said the last part more quietly, giving a small shrug like he was trying to sound casual about it. Truthfully, he had no idea what lines he could or couldn’t cross anymore. This was already the longest conversation he and Ivan had ever had. One wrong move and Till was convinced he would scare him away completely.
So he tried to keep things light. Friendly. Even if the thoughts in the back of his mind refused to quiet down. He knew what people said about him. What his classmates thought whenever they looked his way. Just an emo faggot who liked creeping on men. Sometimes Till wondered if Ivan secretly thought the same thing too. Maybe his teammates had already tried convincing him it was true.
Ivan smiled softly at the compliment and tilted his head to study the drawing again. “I guess from some angles,” he joked quietly, trying to ease the tension that had settled between them. Then he looked back at Till and smiled wider this time, his snaggletooth fully on display.
“Thank you, Till.”
The sincerity in his voice caught Till off guard. But almost as quickly as the moment appeared, Ivan cleared his throat and uncapped his pen, glancing toward the empty space beside the drawing. “Mind if I draw you next to me?” Till looked up and met his eyes properly this time. A shiver immediately ran down his spine. Slowly, he nodded while a thousand different thoughts ran through his head all at once.
Maybe they had punched him harder than he thought. That had to be it.
There was no other explanation for why Ivan was sitting beside him right now, casually drawing in the sketchbook Till once swore nobody else would ever see for as long as he lived. Especially not him. Then Ivan suddenly shifted his body and sat crisscross applesauce across from him, his full attention fixed directly on Till.
“Stay… like that.”
He grinned softly before finally bringing the pen down to the page, sketching line after line with surprising focus. Till sat awkwardly in front of him, suddenly hyperaware of every part of his body. He was too nervous to move even an inch in case it ruined whatever Ivan was trying to draw. Really, Till couldn’t even remember if he had ever seen Ivan draw before. For all he knew, Ivan might actually be better than him.
A few minutes passed with nothing but the scratching of pen against paper.
Ivan continued sketching quietly, occasionally pausing to shade parts of the drawing that Till assumed were supposed to be his dark clothes. Meanwhile, Till found himself staring off toward the sky. It had gotten darker while they sat there. He wondered what time it was now. The football game had to be starting soon. Or at least warmups probably were. Till wasn’t exactly sure how any of that worked. He just assumed the team was probably searching all over campus for their captain by now.
Did football players train before games? Maybe the coach gathered everyone together for one of those dramatic speeches people always showed in movies. Till shrugged slightly at the thought before noticing Ivan finally cap the pen with a quiet click, pulling the sketchbook toward his chest.
Till waited eagerly for Ivan to reveal the drawing, a small grin already pulling at his lips. But just before turning the sketchbook around, Ivan suddenly hesitated again, looking strangely nervous. “Don’t laugh,” he said softly. Then he finally flipped the sketchbook toward him.
Till immediately felt something tug at his chest.
He carefully took the sketchbook into his hands and stared down at the drawing of himself. It was definitely different from Till’s style. One eye was slightly bigger than the other, though honestly, every artist struggled with that. It wasn’t perfect by any means. But it was Ivan’s drawing. And somehow, that alone made it feel more valuable than anything else Till owned.
He brought a hand up to cover his mouth and let out a quiet laugh. “Looks just like me.” Till continued chuckling softly, hoping Ivan would understand he wasn’t making fun of him. Thankfully, Ivan quickly laughed too and scooted closer so he could look at the drawing again. “I think I’ll leave the art stuff to you,” Ivan huffed dramatically. “This is way harder than it looks.” His eyes flickered between the sketch and Till himself, comparing the two before he tilted his head slightly.
“A for effort?”
Till squinted at him sarcastically before sticking his tongue out. “Maybe a B. And that’s me being generous.” That immediately pulled a louder laugh out of Ivan. He dropped his head forward, shoulders shaking as he struggled to stop laughing. “I’ll take it.”
Till found himself smiling at him for a second before his attention drifted lower on the page. Near the bottom of the drawing sat another tiny sketch. The cat owl. It was messy and poorly drawn, but still recognizable enough for Till to immediately know what it was supposed to be. He tilted the sketchbook toward Ivan and pointed at the little creature with raised brows.“This thing again?” he asked, laughing quietly. “Seriously, what even is it?”
Ivan took the sketchbook from him and tapped his pen proudly against the strange little hybrid. “That’s Meowl. I like to think he’s a very important part of how we started talking.” He uncapped the pen again and began drawing tiny hearts around the cat owl, occasionally glancing up at Till with a grin. Till scoffed lightly. “How could I forget? You show me that thing almost every period whenever the classroom gets completely silent.”
Ivan nodded, eyes squinting as his smirk widened. “That’s what makes it funny.” Till hummed softly in response, his cheeks feeling warm as he looked up at Ivan. Almost immediately, he realized Ivan was already staring at him.
His heart skipped.
For a second, Till considered looking away before Ivan noticed how obvious he probably was being. More than ever, he felt terrified his eyes would betray him completely. How had he managed to keep this hidden for so long? How had he never told Ivan he liked him? But then again, how could he? Ivan was the heartthrob of the school. The most popular guy on campus. Someone everyone wanted.
Someone Till could realistically never have.
Ivan had just barely opened his mouth to say something when the nearby doors suddenly swung open. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the garden before one of the head cheerleaders called out excitedly.
“Ivan, there you are!”
She hurried over to the fountain and stopped in front of Ivan, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she stared him down. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you! The guys want to talk to you!” Ivan’s smile faded almost instantly. He quickly closed the sketchbook and rested it against his lap before she could peek inside, but the movement alone was enough to catch her attention.
“What’s that?” she teased with a snicker, narrowing her eyes. “Are you signing autographs now?” Her gaze shifted toward Till, making him click his tongue quietly in annoyance. Ivan ignored the comment entirely. Instead, he simply handed the sketchbook back to Till before looking up at her. “Nothing like that,” he said calmly. “Just talking to a friend.”
Till’s heart nearly stopped.
Friend?
We’re friends?
He had to physically stop himself from smiling like an idiot right there in front of both of them. Heat immediately rushed to his face again, and he prayed it wasn’t obvious how badly those words affected him. Meanwhile, the girl’s expression twisted into visible confusion, like even she couldn’t believe Ivan had said that out loud. But before she could question him any further, Ivan pushed himself up from the fountain and rested a hand against her shoulder. A faint grin tugged at his lips. Small enough that his snaggletooth barely showed this time.
“Let’s head back together, okay?”
The contact immediately made the girl brighten, her entire expression softening as she nodded quickly. Instead of letting go, she wrapped herself around Ivan’s arm with a cheerful smile. “Let’s hurry back! We still need to get ready!” She chirped excitedly while practically dragging him back toward the school doors. Ivan only managed to glance back over his shoulder and wave goodbye with his free hand, smiling in a way that finally revealed the snaggletooth Till liked so much.
Till slowly lifted a hand to wave back, but by then they were already disappearing inside, leaving him alone in the quiet garden once again.
For a long moment, Till just sat there in silence, trying to process everything that had happened since he came back looking for his sketchbook. None of it felt real. He and Ivan had actually talked. Not just a few awkward classroom interactions or passing comments. They had genuinely talked. Ivan knew about the sketchbook now. He had looked through it, teased him about it, and somehow still stayed. More than that, he had drawn Till right beside Till’s drawing of him.
Till couldn’t stop himself from opening the page again. His eyes drifted over the two completely different art styles sitting side by side on the paper. Slowly, he placed a hand over his own drawing of Ivan, his pupils probably turning into hearts if that was even physically possible. Then he shifted his hand to cover Ivan’s drawing of him instead.
He had been here.
The thought made Till laugh quietly under his breath as he tried desperately to calm himself down. His heart honestly felt close to bursting out of his chest.
Then his eyes landed on Meowl again.
Till’s expression immediately stiffened before he brought a finger to the ridiculous little creature’s face anyway, smiling despite himself. He still had no idea what Meowl even was or where Ivan found it in the first place. Though, it wouldn’t surprise him if Ivan genuinely liked cats and owls enough to invent some weird hybrid of both. Maybe he should have asked him.
That was when an idea suddenly popped into Till’s head.
He suddenly remembered the little metaphysical shop a few streets down from campus that sold tiny animal figurines. They definitely had cats. And he was pretty sure he had seen owls there too. If he somehow managed to glue a cat head onto an owl’s body, it would make the perfect gift. Till could already picture Ivan’s reaction when he showed up on Monday and surprised him with it. The thought alone made him grin.
Quickly, Till gathered the rest of his belongings and double checked that he wasn’t forgetting anything this time before finally leaving campus for real. By now, cars were steadily filling the school parking lot, most likely for the football game. Just how long had they been sitting at that fountain?
Till adjusted the plastic bag over his shoulder and started down the street, noticing that his clothes were finally beginning to dry as the cold dripping slowly lessened with every step. He definitely needed to go home and shower after this. And probably dig out his old phone since his current one was completely ruined now. He also needed new earbuds. Hell, he needed new everything at this point. Even his school supplies were soaked beyond repair.
Still, he was just relieved to have his things back at all.
As he approached the little shop, he noticed one of the workers sweeping near the entrance, which immediately made him hesitate. Maybe they were already closing. Out of habit, Till instinctively reached for his phone to check the time before remembering it no longer worked. He rolled his eyes at himself and tugged the door open anyway, raising a brow when it swung open without issue.
Guess they’re still open.
Till gave the worker a quick nod while tuning out the familiar speech about the store closing soon and needing to make selections quickly. He came here pretty often after class, so by now he practically knew the place by memory.
He walked toward the back of the store and quickly found the two figurines he’d been looking for. One cat. One owl. Till picked both of them up and smiled to himself, already imagining how ridiculous it would look once he ripped the cat’s head off and glued it onto the owl’s body. Ivan would probably love it. Holding the figures carefully in one hand, Till started toward the front counter, not wanting to waste too much more time before the store closed. But halfway there, something caught his attention from the corner of his eye.
A display tucked away in the far corner of the shop.
Till slowed to a stop.
That wasn’t there before.
Curiosity immediately got the better of him, and after a brief hesitation, he wandered over toward the brightly lit display. Rows of tiny boxes sat stacked neatly together, each one decorated with dots and little stars. Till tilted his head before pulling one of the boxes free from the shelf.
“One Wish Willow?”
He turned the box around and skimmed the writing on the back, his lips pressing into a thin line as he read through the description. Then he flipped it back over and stared at the front again.
Only one wish.
Till let out a quiet laugh under his breath at the obvious gimmick and started to put the box back before hearing movement behind him. “You looking at the One Wish Willows?” the worker asked with a lazy grin. “Dude, those things are so rad.” Till glanced over at him and immediately realized the guy looked significantly more high than attentive.
“I wish they let you make more wishes, though,” the worker continued sadly. Then, without warning, he shoved a hand into his pocket and proudly flashed several messy rolls of cash. “I already used mine.”
Till stared at the rolls of cash with a deeply confused expression. Surely, this was just some weird attempt to upsell the product. He didn’t believe it in the slightest. But even so, he couldn’t stop the curiosity settling into the back of his mind as he slowly paused halfway through putting the box back onto the display.
“One wish, huh?” He decided to humor the idea for a moment. Maybe it was just one of those novelty collectibles stoners bought to make themselves feel more mystical while high. Honestly, even if the whole wish thing was fake, it would still make for decent desk decor. The worker suddenly placed a hand on Till’s shoulder, his expression growing strangely serious. “Just be careful, dude. We don’t accept returns or complaints.” A quiet snicker followed the warning before the guy gently shoved Till toward the front counter.
Till huffed under his breath and carried the items over anyway, setting the figurines and the little willow box down beside the register. He wondered how much employees were getting paid to push this thing so hard. Because obviously it was fake. You couldn’t just make a wish and expect the universe to hand it to you.
That’s not how life worked.
Another worker stepped over to ring him up, barely glancing at the items before wishing him a goodnight. Till grabbed his bag once everything was paid for and finally stepped back outside, beginning the walk toward his apartment a few blocks away from campus.
By now, the sky had darkened completely. But Till didn’t mind. If anything, he had always liked nighttime more than the daytime anyway.
It was peaceful.
As he walked down the sidewalk, Till reached into the plastic bag again and pulled out the One Wish Willow box, curious if the item itself had some sort of placebo effect on people. He tried reading the directions printed on the back while walking, but the streetlights were too dim to make out most of the words clearly. “I just wasted seven dollars,” he muttered under his breath.
With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he shoved the box back into the bag and continued toward the stoplight ahead of him.
“Maybe I can wish for my money back.”