In the stillness of the empty room— abandoned by the rest of the study group —amplified the pounding of my heart. The coolness from the book covering my face had long equalized to match my own body temperature. The book magnified my own shaky breath right before he sealed his lips over mine.
Kay Blaire was kissing me.
The scent of coconut and jasmine filled my senses. His lips were cold. I could taste the remnants of the bitter espresso he'd been using to power through the study session.
I held my breath.
I tried to capture the sensation in my memory. Wrangle it into submission. Store it away in a cage so I could rattle the cage bars each time I began to doubt its reality.
All too soon, he pulled away. He paused. I felt the ghost of his lips on mine as he sealed them to swallow. His breath fanned out across my face as he sighed.
"Xavier-" He cut himself off and pulled away.
Under the book, my eyes were wide. When I heard the door close behind him I sat up. The book fell to the ground in a dramatic thudding-flutter of pages. The jacket that I'd been using as a makeshift blanket shifted and bunched up at my waist.
I grabbed it in a fistful of misplaced aggression. I felt the threads warping and snapping in my grasp.
After a deep breath I released my hold.
Xavier would give me hell if I tore his favorite jacket.
I wondered what he would have done if he'd received that kiss as its giver intended.
My chest ached. I pulled my knees up and buried my head in them. My shaky hand lifted to clutch my hair. The hair everyone said looked just like Xavier's.
Two years.
Two years of stolen glances.
Of fluttering heartbeats and warm cheeks and shaky hands.
I'd loved Kay Blaire for two years.
And all this time…
He loved Xavier.
Behind me, the door creaked again. Fearing it was Kay, fearing he'd realize his mistake upon seeing me, I scrambled off the couch. I fell forward in a painful tumble of limbs and awkwardness. The impact when I hit the ground echoed painfully though my skeleton.
I couldn't feel the pain. The only thought in my head was of disappearing. The cool tile floor stuck to my sticky palms as I tried to press myself closer to the couch.
"Lee…dude…" The voice wasn't Kay's.
I sat up. My glasses sat crookedly on my nose. Heat burned in my cheeks and the back of my eyes stung. Something uncomfortable and bitter bit at the back of my throat.
It wasn't Xavier's fault. I knew that.
Still, I couldn't stop myself from hating him. A spiteful tinge that painted his concern as condescension and his confusion as disgust.
"Why are you on the floor?" Xavier walked to stand in front of me and held out a hand.
I looked him up and down. My closest friend of the past four years. The only person who knew the most guarded parts of my soul.
He was handsome. Always had been. Not that I thought much of it when we met. Back then I'd focused more on the messy way he tied his tie and how his shirts were always buttoned crookidly.
Replace the unflattering school uniform with Xavier's newfound fashion sense. Add bright blue eyes and a body sculpted by our shared gardening hobby(a hobby I magically evaded the benefits of) and Xavier would be considered many people's ideal type.
The tawny hair we shared-- while unkempt and dull on me --made him look like an adonis. Glowing, always catching the sun just right.
I hated him.
"I need to dye my hair," I righted my glasses on my face. I looked away from Xavier to hide my pout. It didn't work.
"One, hell yeah! I've been telling you to dye it for years now! And two, what does that have to do with being on the floor?"
Xavier couldn't know what happened. If I told him Kay kissed me I'd have to reveal other things. Things I much preferred to keep quiet. Like how I felt about Kay. And who Kay mistook me for. Xavier wouldn't go for Kay, I knew he wouldn't.
In high school he borrowed my phone and discovered the man-on-man, x-rated tab I'd left open from the previous night. In my flurry of panicked excuses he'd slapped a hand over my mouth and told me not to worry.
"Bro I'm aroace. I won't snitch, trust."
It felt like being submerged in cool water after traveling through a desert for years. I wanted nothing more than to feel that relief again.But this time, Xavier couldn't give it to me. If I told Xavier, he'd reject Kay. It would be gentle, of course. But a gentle rejection is still a rejection. Once rejected, Kay would leave the study group.
And I'd never see him again.
I took Xavier's steady hand. He pulled me to my feet. After lightly dusting me off he dropped down and retrieved my book and his jacket. I took the book but shoved the jacket back into his arms.
"Remind me not to borrow your clothes ever again."
"Aww," Xavier whined, turning towards the door and motioning for me to follow. He lifted the jacket to his nose and sniffed it, "Do I smell bad?"
I rolled my eyes and laughed, "Yeah, I don't want your stink on me. It'll give people the wrong idea."
Xavier raised an eyebrow and scoffed, "Yeah, they might even start to think you're a living, breathing, sweating, stinky person like the rest of us."
"I'm glad you understand," I spoke with a light, joking tone. Xavier punched my shoulder playfully. My fingers clutched my book tight enough to ache.