::CHAPTER 17::

[One Year Later]

Richard’s POV

“Shit!” I hopped on one foot while rubbing my stubbed toe and trying to brush my teeth at the same time. A glance at the mirror told me that I needed to brush the other half of my hair and that the toothpaste was getting everywhere with all the jumping around that I was doing.

Tommy sat silently on the other side of the room watching sports news on his ostentatious excuse for a TV. It belonged more in a cinema than a dorm room but who was I to complain? “Do you need any help over there?” he tossed over his shoulder. I shot him a look, but he couldn’t see it with his back facing me. “I’ll take that as a no,” he said, plucking a strip of bacon from his bagel sandwich.

Breakfast. Shoot! I still had to get…who am I kidding? At this hour I’ll have to forget about that.

My stomach protested with a very indignant growl. “Gimme that,” I said snatching Tommy’s sandwich from his hands. He turned to complain but fell quiet at my expression. It would seem mean to anyone who wasn't used to us. The lazy fart stole my breakfast all the time because the 'food court is too far'. This was the first and only time I'd ever returned the favor. It was probably why he let me get away with it too. He'd had this coming a long time now.

I rinsed my mouth and gave my hair a half-hearted brush that didn't do much to help the unruly, tufted mess on the right side of my head. Spinning in a circle, I looked for my book bag. “Hanging behind the door,” Tommy called with a forlorn look at his sandwich in my hand. I murmured my thanks before grabbing the bag and heading to the door.

“Richard!”

“What?” I snapped.

“Don’t you think you should put on your other shoe…and maybe some pants?” he suggested, “Not that I mind looking at you in your undies—.”

“Ah crap,” I turned and grabbed my jeans from the bed.

“—it’s just that the teachers might have a problem with it.”

“Shut it, Ackles,” I rolled my eyes and held the paper bag with his sandwich in it between my teeth.

“Fine. Next time I’ll just let you advertise your goodies to the rest of the campus. Bet the seniors would love that.”

“I said shut it,” I forced back a smile.

“I can see it now. Front page of the Daily Wombat. ‘Super Stud Bares All’,” he gave an exaggerated shiver, “What an article. I'm sure they'll get a half-page sized snapshot of you in all your glory.”

“You are a pervert. And I don’t think being in my underwear counts as baring all,” I told him putting on my shoe, “Besides there is nothing that could be in that paper that you haven’t seen before.”

With that, I leaned in to give Tommy what started off as a distracted kiss goodbye. As I was moving away, he grinned against my lips and raised a hand to my neck bringing me closer. Capturing my mouth with the touch of his lips and a sensual flick of his tongue, I caught on to what he wanted.

“Mmm, no no nope,” I pulled away, “I don’t have time for a quickie.”

“There is always time for a quickie,” Tommy said as affronted as if I’d insulted him and his entire family, “Hence the name quickie. Pick up a dictionary once in a while, will you?”

Only Tommy could make me pause when I was this late. “…I don’t think quickie is in the dictionary.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course it is. And if it isn’t,” he wiggled his eyebrows. "I’d be happy to give you the definition."

“Tommy,” I shot him a look.

“I can illustrate it too if you like,” a flash of teeth and a dazzling smile.

“I’ll be late for my midterm!” I chuckled, “We’ll do it later.”

“Pooh,” he gave a pout and a dramatic sigh as he flopped back onto the bed.

“You can’t be seriously pouting about this,” I grabbed my bag from where I’d dropped it.

“Go on to your exams,” he said the word as if it was plague infesting our lives, “I’ll just lay here…bagel-less and horny.”

“Shut up, you pig,” I laughed as I bolted out the door.

“Oh, the humanity!” he moaned from the other side, "My aching loins!"

Grinning despite my worry, I took off running toward my class. The exam had started nearly half an hour ago and I didn’t even know if my lecturer would allow me to take it. Still, I ran all the way to the middle of the campus swearing my head off; f-bombs and s-words and m-words and a-words and pretty much every swear word falling between A to Z.

By the time I got there the bagel was done, my stomach was upset from eating and running, I was thirsty from all the salt in the bacon and eggs and I was sweating and panting too much to explain to the woman why I was late.

She took a disapproving look at my surely disheveled appearance. Probably taking pity on my untidy hair, crazed eyes and mismatched shoes, she let me in. I thanked the heavens and rushed to an empty seat.

When I opened my bag, I realized that I left my stationery back at the dorm after doing my assignment last night. I let out my dirtiest swear of the morning yet. Everyone sitting nearest to me whipped their heads around to see. I blushed and gave a soft apology.

“Eyes front!” the lecturer said.

A clatter on the floor caught my attention, but it was too soft to reach the teacher’s ears. I picked up the pen and looked up at the owner. The guy shook his head and motioned for me to keep it. Mouthing the most heartfelt thanks I ever had, I went to my test paper.

It took a while to mentally settle down enough to concentrate. After that, I breezed through most of the test. I hated to think of what would have happened if I hadn’t been studying like crazy in the library all week. I finished the exam with seconds to spare. Not nearly enough time to check over my work. At this point, I was just glad that I was done. I handed up the paper, gave the guy back his pen and thanked him one last time.

“So – uh – Richard Crowley, right?” he caught up with me outside, jogging out of the class.

“Yeah,” I tossed a glance at him before dipping my hand into my bag.

“I’m Kellan.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“I−I always see you coming into class but you never really talk to anyone.”

“That’s the way I like it, Keadan,” I said pulling out my organizer and flipping through the pages.

“It’s Kellan actually,” he frowned, “Umm, so I was wondering…are you doing anything tonight?”

“I don’t know. Let’s see,” I said trying as I peered into the organizer, “I have another test to study for this week, so I have to get to my dorm and do that. Then I have three reports to work on for my job due tomorrow morning. I have a presentation to go over and visual aids to set up. There are appointments for me to organize for my boss and I promised my roommate a quickie.”

“Yeah, he kind of did. And I’m kinda of looking forward to it,” Tommy’s voice came from behind me, a hand resting dangerously low on my back.

“So, yes. I’m busy tonight. Sorry,” I said.

"Well what about−?

“And I don't plan on any dating for a very long time.”

"That's fine, I guess."

“Come on, hot stuff,” Tommy slipped a finger through my belt loop and pulled me along, “You can study while I get you some hot chocolate.”

“Life saver…you…” I managed to murmur, feeling sluggish from my barely three hour nap this morning.

“Yes, yes. I’m your hero. Gotta keep your strength up with all these boys chasing your tail. Third one this week, huh?” he turned around and flashed wink my way before leading the way to the coffee shop, “Have you ever considered drinking actual coffee? It’ll keep you awake for the all-nighter you’re going to have to pull.”

“No. I hate the stuff. It’s bitter on its own and I need tons of sugar to stomach it. And when I can stomach the taste, it’s too sweet.”

I plopped down into the nearest booth and Tommy followed. A waitress was at our table in a heartbeat. She looked from one of us to the next, a flirtatious gleam in her eye.

I helped her decide who to cozy up to by dropping out of the running. Putting my head to the table and turning away from her, I forced her attention to Tommy. Judging by her reflection’s hair-flipping action, it was no hardship for her to wait on him.

Long ago, I had thought I’d wanted the attention Tommy got; the adoring looks and lusting glances people threw his way. Now that I got some of that attention, it just irritated me. With the amount of work that I was swamped with, I didn’t have the time to go out and date or keep up with anyone’s need for constant hand-holding and affection and crap. All in all, it was a total waste. I got the attention and couldn’t use it for more than a one or two-night stand.

To be honest, I didn’t particularly like the idea of settling down or steady relationships. All around me it just seemed to either ruin friendships or crash and burn. It didn’t seem to be worth all the effort for the amount of pain that came afterward. I knew emotional pain. I’d had enough of it. Relationships were built on happiness that was so strong, that when they failed it was a disaster. Flings, on the other hand, were safe.

Tommy and I had an on-going, no strings attached thing that turned out to be the safest of them all. He avoided commitment even more than I did. We felt free to do and say whatever we wanted without worrying that the other would think anything of it. Hell, I could get down on one knee and propose to him now and he wouldn’t bat an eyelash about it. He would think it was a prank and move on with life.

Closing my eyes for the nap I craved, I drifted off. It felt like only seconds later when the waitress woke me up as she announced our order. My eyes fluttered open and took a while to focus while she put the plates and drinks onto the table. Tommy thanked her although he stared at his phone screen.

Rising up, I saw the flat bread sandwich lying on the plate with most of my fries missing. “What the hell man?” I smacked his hand away as he moved to put more of my fries onto his plate.

“Richard, don’t be ungrateful. This stress is making you put on weight. I’m stealing your food for you.”

“For me?” I shot him a look.

“Of course. Me eating your food is an act of selflessness. See?” he popped a fry in his mouth for emphasis, “It’s for the sake of your amazing abdominals.”

“I thought you said I was putting on weight? Now I have amazing abs?”

“You have amazing abs now. I’ll give them two weeks under this strain,” he ate another fry, “With this diet, your stress levels and fourteen days’ time, you’ll become gelatinous.”

“What?” I peeked under my shirt with a little worry.

“Yup,” he said deadpan, “So gelatinous that you could trip over a pencil, fall and bounce so high through the messphere that we won’t find your remains in space until the next millennium.”

“One, you mean mesosphere,” I rolled my eyes, “Two, I doubt my remains would survive that long. And three, you have the same diet that I do and your dad’s been stressing you non-stop. How come you won’t get fat?”

“Because I’m Tommy Ackles,” he shrugged as if that answered all of life’s questions and then some.

And this is where fighting Tommy-logic gets me. Nowhere. No matter how much real logic you threw out, it always ended with ‘I’m Tommy Ackles’. His name trumped every argument in his eyes. And he says it with such finality that you feel like there’s no way to argue past that point.

I pulled out my text book and tried to get through as much of the chapter as I could while sipping on hot chocolate, eating with one hand and highlighting with the other.

I was already in my third year at this school and the responsibilities were piling on by the day. I hardly had any time for myself and I was starting to miss the days when things were simpler.

It was a pain in the behind to have such a demanding job, but it paid really well for someone with a place to live and no bills to pay. I was able to have my own car – nothing nearly as flashy as Tommy’s – and some comforts I wouldn’t have had before. I liked getting to go to a lounge if I wanted a night off or going to a private club and spend money on expensive drinks that I'd never imagined existed far less tasting. I just liked knowing that I could afford to do little things for myself when I deprived myself of most things the rest of the time.

Now, I was too swamped to do any of that but the money was put aside for when I did have the time.

I looked up at the sound of crying. Tommy was staring at his phone but a hand was resting over his heart. One glance at his tear-free face confirmed that the crying was coming from his phone, not him.

“Are you watching your soap operas again? What’s wrong now?”

“Heather slept with Rico, that bitch! The thing is, she’s actually dating Rico’s best friend, Tuck. Except she thinks Tuck died in this burning building three episodes ago on account of Tuck being a fireman and all. Anyways, before the fire, the mob was looking for Tuck and he used the fire to fake his death so obviously he’s really alive, but no one knows. In this episode Tuck just came to tell her the truth and found her in bed with Rico and I’m freakin’ out because everyone knows Heather and Tuck are meant to be together. I mean come on. Can you say chemistry? I ship them so hard!”

“You can’t follow the rules of snakes and ladders but you keep track of all of that,” I bowed my head into the book, “You’re amazing.”

“You're just jealous.”

His eyes were glued to the screen again, leaving me to finish the chapter that I’d planned on tackling today.

I had to plan every single thing − practically down to the time I washed my crotch in the morning − if I wanted to get it all done. My watch beeped to signal the end of my study session. “Come on, I need to go make those appointments and finish the presentation,” I got up and started moving before he even noticed.

That night was one of those nights where I got next to no sleep. It was made worse by the lack of sleep the night before that. At six the next morning, I punched Tommy in the leg to wake him up. He was supposed to have stayed up to keep me company but after finishing his own work, watching two soap operas, studying and the quickie I’d promised him, he fell straight to sleep by one o’ clock.

He gave an annoyed groan and rolled around in the sheets. “Get up, Ackles! I have to get to work and you have to drive me.” He said something but it came out muffled under the covers. “What was that?” I fixed my tie. He pushed his covers off and rose up like a vampire out of a coffin. His usually fresh-out-the-salon hair was mussed up and his eyes were bleary. He scowled at me and yawned, “I said the sex is good, but not wake-up-before-eight-to-drive-your-ass-to-work good.”

“Your mind needs another track. There’s more to life than sex.”

“Said no one in the history of ever.”

“There is. You need to go out and get a hobby.”

“That is my hobby. Have you not been paying attention to me at all these past three years?” he tossed up his hands.

“Unfortunately yes. I’m twenty-one years old and look who I have for a best friend,” I gestured at him, “I could do so much better.”

“The fact that you honestly believe that you could do better removes all faith I have in humanity. I’m Tommy Ackles, where are you going to find better?”

“Dunno,” I smirked, “Let’s check inside a third floor toilet.”

“That hurts man,” he said shaking his head, “More to life than sex, he says. I am ashamed to know you. It’s like my talents mean nothing.”

“Sorry,” I laughed and nipped him on the jaw.

He rubbed at the skin and glared at me. “You need to stop hanging around with those out-of-town Chosen guys. You’re picking up their quirks. Soon you’ll be marking me and crap,” Tommy got out of bed and grabbed his stuff for a shower, “And speaking of those Chosen guys, check out your eyes.”

While he went outside, I went over to my full length mirror and sighed. My eyes had been doing this thing lately where the color kept changing. It had started last year and each month the color shifted. Originally my eyes were deep brown but then it turned into brown with flecks of dark blue. Then more and more flecks appeared. At a point my eyes were fully midnight blue. It was weird but Tommy seemed fascinated more than anything.

I’d gone to different doctors and they all pegged it as a natural change in eye pigmentation. There was nothing wrong otherwise. One or two of the doctors mentioned that eye color often changed when some people grew older, but both had to admit that this was abnormal. I was already twenty-one. Something like that should have happened at a way younger age and not this drastically.

At this point my eyes had gone past midnight blue. The shade was lightening more and more every other month or so. Right now it looked like a deep, royal blue. It was amazing and I liked it. I mean if the doctors can't find anything wrong and I feel fine, then there was no issue, right? I had no complaints. My eyes were cooler now. What was there to fuss about? I didn’t even have the time to worry about it anymore. I just accepted it.

Peering into the mirror, I smiled at my reflection. With Tommy’s gym membership and almost daily exercise routines, I had built and changed my muscle and body structure. As he would say, I had grown into my second puberty damn well. Up to this day, he was still patting himself on the back over this. I let him. He deserved it.

When Tommy got back, he was ready. He was dressed in a sharp button down shirt tucked into a pair of slacks that did wonders for his ass. Of course I didn’t tell him that. He had chosen the pants because he already knew it. His face was freshly shaven and his hair had that just-out-the-salon look that none of the other celebrities I’d met so far could pull off. His tie was done up perfectly, betraying how many years he’d been doing it. Me? I still could barely get the knot right. He rolled his eyes and fixed it like he did every time I put on a tie.

“You are useless when it comes to tying knots.”

“That’s why we use handcuffs, remember?” I smirked.

“Oh yeah,” he smiled wistfully at the bed and the dangling silver bracelets on the bed frame, “Good times.”

“Shut up and hurry with the tie. I have a half an hour to get to work.”

“Perfection takes time. Probably why my mother sat in the hospital for four days getting contractions.”

“Hmm. I was born pre-mature,” I shrugged.

“See?” he pat my cheek, “Exactly my point.”

“Hey! You insulting little—.”

“All done,” he beamed, “Let’s go.”

When we got into his car and I made a note in my organizer to pick up my own car from the mechanic later. The first part of the drive was pretty silent but Tommy’s voice interrupted my half-sleep. I would have ignored him if it weren’t for the seriousness of his tone. Tommy was rarely serious about anything and when he was, it was worth it to pay attention.

“What was that?” I shook the sleep away.

“Nye. When last did you talk to him?” he repeated.

A small part of me noticed that he called Nye by the name only I called him. It was no shocker. I used the name so often that it was natural that Tommy would choose to call him that. Most of me was focused on his actual question though. When was it that I’d last talked to him?

“I can’t remember. Everything’s been such an overly-organized, super scheduled jumble lately. I think it’s been a while though. Why'd you ask?”

“You haven’t talked about him in a really long time. And I’m getting the feeling that you haven’t talked to him in an even longer time. What’s going on with you guys?”

“Nothing,” I frowned at his perceptiveness, “We’re fine.”

“It’s that bad?” he turned to me. I shot him a quizzical look. “We never talk about things like this and…”

“And what?”

“And you just went cold on me just now. Never mind. It’s none of my business,” he turned back to the road, “You don’t have to tell me.”

I closed my eyes and sunk further into the seat. I liked that Tommy wanted to give me the space he thought I was asking for, but it made me a little guilty to accept it. Under all of the flirting and sex, we were friends. I should let him in. Enough to talk about this at least.

We had a habit of keeping the important things from each other. Worries, concerns, bothers, it didn’t matter. We never talked it out. With that out of the way, it kept our friendship light…and shallow. We didn’t let each other in. And we were fine with that. It was a way to keep from crossing the line from friends with benefits to romantic relationship.

The only thing keeping me from calling him a boyfriend was that ability to talk about these important things. Well that and the fact that he’d probably punch me in the face if I called him that. I’d do the same if tried to put me in that position.

Because of that, I decided that it was safe to talk about this with him. It was one time. It wouldn’t change anything.

“No. It’s okay,” I ran my fingers through my hair, “This one time.”

“So? Is everything really fine between you two?”

"Not even close.”

“I figured,” he eyed me, “It feels like it’s been over a year since I’ve had to tell you to shut your trap with the late night calls.”

“Yeah,” a smile crept up on me, “I miss the crazy kid. The last time we talked, we got into a bit of a fight.”

“What about?” Tommy turned a corner and frowned a little, “You two haven’t ever fought in all the time I’ve heard you talking. In fact, you're kind of disgustingly sweet.”

“I know. I don’t get what was up with him that day. He’d been acting weird before that. All quiet and distant…almost shy. Then he’d get all offended at the littlest things and sometimes he’d just answer the phone all agitated. I could never gauge his mood.”

“Probably puberty,” Tommy shrugged, “Sounds kind of odd to be anything else.”

“Maybe,” I shrugged, “But I got pretty busy not long after that and we didn’t talk for a while.

"And after that?"

"Then, out of the blue, I got a call from his Alpha telling me about him spiraling out of control. Asher said Nye wouldn't listen to anyone. Not his teachers, his parents, his aunt and uncle or even him. And this is the Alpha, Tommy. You don't just not listen to him when he corrects you."

"Damn. I bet you took that well," he scoffed.

"What do you expect?" I shook my head remembering Asher's voice when he'd called. He'd sounded scared for Nye. Terrified even. Thinking of what would put that kind of fear and worry into an Alpha who'd only just adopted Nye into his Pack had rocked me. It was as if I'd taken that same worry from him and multiplied it.

"Nye seems like a good kid. What could he possibly have done?"

"Smoking, drinking, cutting school. The guys he said Nye was hanging out with didn’t make things better. I know them. They were always getting hauled into the station or sent for training whenever they got too out of hand."

"Real juvenile delinquents. Never came across any in my time. Of course, I lived a golden rattle life," Tommy added as an afterthought, "It wasn't likely that I ever would. Either way, this is Nye. Are you sure this isn't an overreaction. I just can't picture it."

"I don't know. Asher said sometimes he'd be all strung out during training or too high to walk straight or follow a conversation. Other times he came smelling like a liquor store and throwing up too much to get anything done. Asher begged me to talk to him."

"Did you?" Tommy threw me a look, "Rationally?"

"Yes. No. Kind of. I…I got worried about him and I guess it all came out pretty harsh. I should have taken some time to think about what I wanted to say before calling him. I didn't mean to sound like I wasn't on his side or anything. I am. I always would be. I was just scared for him.”

“Drugs,” Tommy shook his head, “Explains a lot. It's a seriously addictive thing. I got sent to a youth rehabilitation 'retreat' a few years ago for that. I guess we’ve all experimented a bit, to be fair.”

“Not me. Not Nye,” I glared, “Not at fourteen. He was never like that.”

“Pre-teen Nye wasn’t like that. He’s been growing up while you’ve been away, Richard.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want him to,” I replied with a scowl at him as if it was all Tommy's fault, “Things were simpler when he was little and happy and thought I walked on water.”

“And now?”

“Most times I think he hates me,” I admitted feeling a small pang at that. The idea of Nye hating me of all people seemed so impossible and, at the same time, so true.

“Don’t be an idiot. I’ve heard him on the phone when you put on the loudspeaker. That kid adores the hell out of you.”

“He did. But the last time I talked to him, he acted like he couldn’t handle talking to me. Like he thinks I don’t care about him anymore."

"Which isn't true obviously," Tommy smiled a little, "I've never seen you so emotional over anything."

"That's probably it. I cared too much and when I blew up at him, he took it the wrong way. He doesn’t seem to like that I’ve been too busy to talk to him. I think I made things worse by calling him all pissed just to tell him what to do with his life. It's not what any teenager wants to hear when his best friend hasn’t called in forever. He hung up on me,” I added the last bit more quietly. He'd never hung up on me before. Ever. Not even after a fight.

“But you called him again, didn’t you? After you calmed down I mean.”

“Of course I did. At least…I tried. He didn’t pick up. No matter how many times I tried to call him. And I get it. I really hurt him, Tommy,” I sighed, “I wanted to let him forgive me on his own time. I don't want to push him again like the last time. I figured whenever he wants to talk to me again, he’ll call me.”

“But didn’t you change your number and sell that other phone,” Tommy turned to me, “to that bitchy chick in your class?”

“Oh come on. She a bit rough but I wouldn't call her bitchy.

"You wouldn't but I will. Bitchy. The girl is B.I.T.C.H.Y.Y.Y.Y. with the caps lock on."

"You're terrible and bitchy doesn't have that many Ys in it," I chuckled at his scowling face, "Anyways, yeah. I sold her the phone because she was the only one who had the money at the time. When I saw that new waterproof, touch screen model with five hundred apps I had to have it."

"It is pretty badass. Still don't get why you changed the number though."

"I hated that old Rondesdale phone network. It was time for an upgrade."

"If you swapped numbers, how will he get onto you?"

"I texted the new number to him and explained that I didn’t have that old number anymore. He still didn’t reply.”

“Damn. That must bite. I’m sure he’ll come around eventually. From what I can tell, he's a good kid and he obviously cares about you too.”

“This long distance friendship really put a strain between us. I still can’t even imagine the Nye that I knew drinking and smoking. Cutting school, yeah. He’s always hated the place. But the rest just doesn’t make sense. He refused to even talk to me about it and we talk to each other about everything. I…I think we grew apart, Tom."

"It's been bothering you."

"I don't like it. It feels weird not having him around like before. No, not weird. Wrong. I'm not used to it.”

We pulled up at a red light and I felt Tommy’s fingers turn my head toward him. “Don’t worry. This will fix itself. Sooner or later. It will. You’ll be fine until then,” he said and pressed a kiss to my lips. I accepted it because I knew Tommy. This was his − oddly Chosen − way of comforting me and I was reminded of home enough to smile.

*********************************************************** 

*sigh* Second week of school and already feeling to pull my hair out. I hope you guys are surviving better than me. Why oh why did I choose a major and a minor? WHY DID I NOT THINK OF WATTPAD WHEN CHOOSING SUBJECTS?! Perhaps I'm a closet masochist *strokes chin* 

Oh well yes. Now you have the OTHER side of the story brought to you by the letter S...as in Shame on you heifers for thinking Richie would purposely avoid Nye like that. TSK! Lol. Ofc there are those few who completely ignored that scene like it was a bad dream and I'd just tell you as much in this chapter. Lol gotta love you guys. 

Sooooooooooooooo? What did ya think *bats lashes*? I'll give you a hint. Hate that lying, bitchy chick even more. That's a good start. grumble grumble sonovabitch (as Tommy said when he found out what happened. clearly he doesn't like her either) Lol comment away my loves.

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