Blake entered the classroom a few minutes before the bell.

As soon as he stepped inside, he noticed something that made him feel relieved.

There was only one remaining seat was at the very front.

Usually, he and Myles sat near the back, by the window.

Today, as always, those seats weren’t occupied, since the other classmates were mindful enough to leave them for the pair.

But today, that wasn’t necessary, since his plan was to ignore him.

Blake glanced at them briefly before walking straight to the front and dropping into the only available chair at the front.

He was ignoring Myles but, to be honest, he wasn’t nearly as frustrated as the previous evening.

’Eh, what’s done is done...’

The world could literally end, there were aliens. There was the system. Basically the apocalypse.

Just a thousand things waiting to ruin everyone’s lives.

Compared to all that, this situation was just one problem among many.

A major problem, admittedly, but still just one problem.

That didn’t stop him from feeling a little petty, though.

Just a little.

So he wasn’t doing this only for the sake of his professional plan.

Blake twirled a pen between his fingers.

’Considering my previous plans to make Myles jealous miserably failed because well, he didn’t care... I don’t think this one will work, either.’

Blake sighed.

So, if Myles showed no signs of caring, he would simply walk up to him, force a conversation to gain what he wants, and call it a day.

’Sounds difficult in theory, let alone in practice...’

He wasn’t interested in dragging this out for weeks, since this so-called life was exhausting enough already.

The classroom slowly filled with students.

Then the teacher entered.

The chatter immediately quieted.

Books opened.

Pens clicked.

And just like that, the school day officially began, with Blake on the front, and Myles on the back.

***

Lunch arrived far sooner than Blake expected.

The final bell of the morning rang, and students immediately flooded into the hallways.

Blake stretched his arms before standing and, without wasting time, he exited the classroom and started heading toward the cafeteria.

Completely unnoticed by him, another figure followed from a distance.

But Blake’s attention was elsewhere.

Specifically, on two familiar faces walking down the hallway.

Anthony and Asher were laughing about something.

Whatever the joke was, it seemed entertaining enough that neither could stop smiling.

Blake immediately raised a hand.

"Yo."

Both boys looked over, their faces lightening up almost instantly.

"Blake!"

They waved back enthusiastically, and he couldn’t help smiling.

As they met up, Blake casually shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Can I join you two for lunch?"

Anthony sighed out a laugh.

"There was no need to ask."

Asher nodded.

"Seriously, you could’ve just walked with us."

Blake laughed.

"Good to know."

The three of them started walking toward the cafeteria together and, then, Asher tilted his head.

"Um, why isn’t Myles with you?"

"Does Myles have to be here just because I’m here?"

Asher opened his mouth, then closed it, while Anthony awkwardly scratched his cheek.

"Well... actually, yeah, that’s fair."

The conversation moved on.

But as they continued walking, Anthony and Asher exchanged a brief glance.

Something felt strange.

Because from behind them, a certain someone was staring, quite subtly, but it wasn’t unnoticeable.

Myles was following at a distance, however, neither dared to comment on it, also because neither knew how to say it.

Eventually, Anthony cleared his throat.

"You guys will figure it out."

Blake blinked.

"Figure what out?"

Anthony gave him a look.

"You know."

"No...?"

"The thing."

"What thing?"

Anthony sighed.

"The thing with Myles."

"Oh."

"You’ll get through it."

Asher nodded.

"Yeah. This is normal."

Blake raised an eyebrow, then, sighing through a smile, he shook his head.

"It isn’t what you’re both thinking."

Neither looked convinced, which was unfortunate, because Blake himself wasn’t entirely sure what they were thinking.

The three of them eventually reached the cafeteria.

Lunch proceeded surprisingly smoothly, the only unusual detail was the fact that Myles sat at a table nearby, completely alone, which made the whole thing stranger.

Blake focused on eating.

Talking with Anthony and Asher wasn’t difficult.

The two naturally filled silences with their discoveries, science and whatnot.

Yet, this time, Blake remained aware of a presence nearby and, several times, he wanted to glance over his shoulder, just enough to see what expression Myles had.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option, because Blake was almost certain that the second he looked back, Myles would notice.

Then his plan would be ruined again, so he resisted.

And lunch continued like that until the bell finally rang.

***

School ended a few hours later.

Students poured from the building in every direction.

Asher had already left earlier that afternoon.

Apparently, some mechanical competition required his attendance.

Blake wasn’t entirely sure what kind of competition it was.

Honestly, he’d stopped understanding halfway through Asher’s explanation.

That left only Blake and Anthony.

The two exited the school together.

Anthony walked toward the motorcycle parked nearby, grabbing the helmet meant for Asher and handed it over.

"Why are we going to the hospital?"

Blake put the helmet on as Anthony tilted his head.

"Are you sick?"

"Nopee."

Anthony looked relieved.

"Good."

Then he paused.

"Wait. Then why are we going?"

"I need to visit Zlatan."

Anthony raised an eyebrow as he sat down on the motorcycle.

"What happened to him?"

Blake climbed on behind him and automatically wrapped his arms around his waist for stability.

"Apparently, he had a really bad allergic reaction."

"Oh."

Anthony started the engine. As they pulled away from the curb, he spoke again.

"Did he know he had allergies?"

Blake stared ahead.

"Honestly, no clue."

That was technically true.

At least externally.

’That weirdo definitely knew...’

The sort of person who would knowingly eat something dangerous just because.

’Who even knows if he cares about dying.’ 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Sometimes it genuinely felt like he didn’t.

The ride passed quickly. Soon enough, they arrived at the hospital.

After parking, the two entered together.

Blake looked toward Anthony.

"You don’t have to come with me."

"Um, you never know."

Blake smiled despite himself.

’Look at him... this is kind of touching.’

Together, they approached reception.

After explaining who they were there to visit, the receptionist typed something into her computer.

Then she looked up.

"You said you’re friends?"

Blake nodded.

"Yeah."

He pointed between himself and Anthony.

"The three of us are friends."

The receptionist hesitated, then asked a rather unexpected question.

"Did the patient perhaps know somebody who wanted to beat him up?"

Blake blinked.

Anthony blinked.

The two slowly turned toward each other, both looking equally confused.

"No, um, not that I know of."

The receptionist nodded.

"Understood."

Though she still looked mildly suspicious. Eventually, she pointed down the hallway.

"Room 000."

Blake followed her finger. Fortunately, the room was literally visible from reception.

’Nice, at least there are no stairs to climb.’

A few moments later, he knocked on the door. Then immediately, he entered alongside Anthony.

Inside, Zlatan sat comfortably in bed.

His legs were crossed.

His attention was focused entirely on his phone.

The moment he looked up, he smiled.

"Hi."

Blake grabbed a nearby chair and sat down.

"Hey."

Then he pulled a small sack from his bag and placed it on the bedside table.

A collection of fruit, nothing fancy.

Just something to bring.

Zlatan’s smile widened.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Zlatan looked toward Anthony.

"Hi."

Anthony nodded politely.

"Hi."

Then Zlatan looked back toward Blake.

"Thanks for the gift."

"It’s nothing."

His eyes moved over Zlatan.

Honestly, the guy looked annoyingly healthy.

"How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good, actually."

Of course he was.

Blake sighed.

"What were you even allergic to?"

"Apparently shrimp."

There was a grin on Zlatan’s face.

A grin Blake desperately wanted to erase, preferably with violence but, instead, he smiled.

"Oh."

"What?"

"I’m just really sorry that happened."

"Thanks."

"I hope you have an optimal recovery."

Zlatan laughed.

Then, unexpectedly, Anthony spoke.

"Why is your face bandaged?"

The room went silent.

Blake scratched the back of his head.

’Wow man, you really addressed the elephant in the room...’

Zlatan touched the bandage, shrugging.

"At some point, somebody snuck into my room and punched me."

"What?"

"Yeah."

Zlatan sounded remarkably casual about it.

Blake tilted his head.

"Why would someone do that?"

Zlatan thought for a second, then answered seriously.

"To ruin my face?"

Both Blake and Anthony looked deeply unimpressed.

Especially because Zlatan still looked unfairly beautiful.

Delicate fairy face.

Massive athletic body.

The combination remained absurd.

Eventually, Blake stood.

This entire visit was draining enough.

"Well, I hope your recovery goes well."

"Thanks."

Blake headed toward the door.

Anthony followed.

Yet just before leaving, he glanced back.

At the exact same moment, Zlatan looked up.

Their eyes met.

The atmosphere immediately chilled.

Neither spoke.

Neither smiled.

Neither looked away.

It lasted only a second.

Then Anthony turned and left.

Soon afterward, they exited the hospital.

Outside, Blake adjusted his helmet.

"Thanks again for the ride."

Anthony laughed.

"It was my pleasure."

The motorcycle started once more.

As Blake settled into the seat behind him and tightened his grip around Anthony’s waist, his thoughts inevitably drifted elsewhere.

To Myles.

Specifically, to how little progress had actually been made.

Blake had ignored him all day, and Myles still hadn’t done anything.

Blake rested his forehead briefly against the back of Anthony’s shoulder.

If this continued for another three days, he was giving up, of course.

A losing battle wasn’t even a battle, just a one-sided looking tantrum.