- Saturday, September 2nd -

I roll over, hit my head against a wall painfully hard and am confused about where I am right now. It takes a while before I realize I'm in my own bed, which is propped up between two walls – which has its pro's and con's. Right now, it prevents me from falling out of my bed.

But I wonder how I got back here in the first place. I don't really remember anything besides a lot of dancing, a very freaking heated kiss with Finnley, a whole lot of alcohol and that's about it.

I roll back to the middle of the bed, reaching out for my phone to find out what time it is, noticing I have one missed text from mister Finnley Lund himself.

What an honour he still has my phone number.

Then again, I still have his saved in my phone too.

Bu still, what an honour for him to actually send me a text. It feels like years ago that he actually was the first to send out a text, or initiate a call. It feels like ages since he reached out for me, instead of the other way around.

Finny

What's the biggest mistake you ever made? (05:34)

"What's the biggest mistake I ever made?" I look at my phone confused, wondering why the hell he sends me this text, before I notice the time he did send it to me. Maybe he just got really drunk and didn't know what he was doing. Forgetting about the fact I broke contact, or the fact he stormed away from me after that heavenly kiss.

Oh my, that kiss." I groan, falling backwards with my head in my pillow. I nearly got lost in trying to both hurt him physically, and getting him hot and bothered just because of me.

I wanted him to want meinstead of that guy he was with.

"Oliver," I mutter the name I remember he told me somewhere along the night. The handsome motherfucker that was with him.

Ugh, I hate him already. Who is he anyway!?I never heard him about Oliverbefore. I groan once again, before I scoot to the end of my bed, climbing out and rummaging through my closet to find myself some clothes to wear.

I saunter towards the living room yawning and stretching shamelessly, heading straight into the open kitchen to grab something to drink.

Morning, drunk fool." Stan's voice sounds amused, coming from the living room.

"Morning," I answer, pouring myself some orange juice before I join him and Nathan in the living room. "What happened to you?" I frown, watching him while he's holding a bag of ice against his nose.

"Jaimie's playing hard to get again."

"He hit you?" I laugh out loud, letting myself fall down on the couch.

"We were kissing, you know." Stan smirks, wiggling his eyebrows. "But I think he realized he let it happen again when I felt him up. He pushed me away, hit me in the face, yelled for me to leave him alone and left."

"You felt him up?"

"For as far as I can tell, he's pretty blessed."

Nathan shakes his head in disbelieve while he's reading a book, smiling a little.

"Maybe you should take things slow, you know." I chuckle because he's pretty much focused on only one thing; getting in Jaimie's pants. I bet it's never going to happen.

"You weren't there, Cris." Nathan laughs. "Jaimie initiated the kiss. He was a bit drunk, in his defence."

"Yeah, about that!" Stan sits up, putting the bag of ice down. "Where were you?"

"I don't know." I simply shrug, slumping down a bit. "Everywhere and nowhere all at once?"

"Just drunk as fuck." Nathan grumbles. "Next time, I'm not going to pick you up."

"You picked me up?"

"Yeah, Finn called, told me to get back there to help you get home. I asked him if he couldn't help you, but he just hung up."

"Well, Cris did tell him he didn't want to see him again." Stan smiles half-heartedly. "Off course Finn isn't going to bring him home just because Cris can't handle a bit of alcohol."

"Yeah, well. It did cost me money to get back there, and get you home. It even took half an hour to get a cabdriver to take you, because they were all afraid you were going to throw up."

"Was I that bad?"

"The fact you can't remember is your answer, cutie." Stan chuckles, leaning in my direction. "It's a wonder you weren't all over me again." He whispers. "Like you normally do when you're drunk."

"Maybe because you're all over Jaimie as of lately."

"Well, you have to admit, he is pretty hot."

"He's pretty straight too."

"Straight guy kisses another guy? Yeah, something tells me he's just Narnia deep in the closet, a little lost about where the closet is exactly."

I smirk in reaction, shaking my head. "It's not going to happen."

"I'm telling you, one of these days, I'm gonna pound his sweet ass all night long."

"O god, you're the worst." I groan. I'm pretty much always visualizing things, including Stan describing what he's going to do once he got Jaimie in his bed. Not a good thing to picture this early in the morning.

* * * * *

The past year has been a struggle for me. With everything happening during Finnley's disappearance, my painful coming out to the school and being abducted myself, I kind of lost myself. I lost track of who I was, who I wanted to be and how to trust the right people.

I suffered from a small depression shortly after Finnley moved to his uncle and aunt, I had to recover from a severe concussion and I had to retake my final year in highschool all by myself while everyone around me was moving forward.

For a long time, I wasn't allowed to do a lot of things I used to do nearly every day, like gaming for a long time, sporting or going out. So, my life changed drastically and I heavily supported on a couple of friends to pull through.

Finnley wasn't one of them.

You can't lean on someone who is broken.

And he blames me for not supporting him enough, without acknowledging the fact I too needed support to keep going.

Whenever we did talk about what happened, we always ended up fighting over every little thing. Because he kept reminding me of the fact he saved me from having to go out and work like he did, making me believe he thought I didn't have the right to feel as miserable as I did because he had it worse.

But the worst thing we always ended up fighting over, was the fact Finnley kept going out, sleeping with strangers whenever he was drunk. He let others use him over and over again, always ending up crying whenever it happened again.

When I asked him why he wouldn't just say no, he kept answering he just wanted to feel loved.

But he never accepted my love; it was never good enough.

He was always pushing me away whenever I wanted to hug him, or touch him for over three seconds. But he knew exactly how to turn me on, how to seduce me and to get me longing for him more than ever. But he would never let me prove to him how much I love him.

And that's how we got to the point I told him I didn't want to see him anymore.

I found out he was sleeping with strangers, even shared the bed with Liam a couple of times whenever they met, but he would never, ever allow me to touch him for over three seconds; claiming he is in love with me for years and I was the only one he would ever truly love.

I called bullshit, told him to stop calling me and left him behind on the train station, going back home after a night out, instead of sleeping at his place for the weekend.

I succeeded in keeping my distance until I saw him at that party. When he was looking at me with those damned blessed eyes of his and I couldn't resist anymore.

And now it's like he shows up everywhere I go.

I saw him in the supermarket, I saw him outside of school, I saw him in the tram. He's everywhere.

The worst part is the fact he keeps sending me cold and deadly looks, while all I can think of is the kiss we shared on the first party of the schoolyear.

Right now, I saunter behind my classmates Sam and Paul towards the classroom we should've been in five minutes ago, scanning the classrooms we pass, freezing for a second when I pass one and I see Finnley, seated in the back of a classroom, slumped down, looking bored and seemingly not paying any attention; not like Finnley at all.

He's going to school here? Why isn't he doing a master, like Nathan? This city offers one of the best university in the country and he's here?

His hair is messy; like always. He's wearing a flannel like he always seems to do these days, a shirt with a Pacman on it visible. The girl next to him is talking to him and maybe he's listening, but to me it seems as if he's in his own world right now.

"Who is he?" Sam appears in my peripheral vision with a smirk. "Got the hots for him, huh?"

"Huh, what?" I snap my head in his direction, eyes wide. I haven't told anyone in school I'm in fact attracted to boys, so why is the first thing he concludes, the fact I indeed have the hots for Finnley?

Is it that obvious?

"The blonde guy." Sam nods his head in the direction of the classroom, before pulling me away in the direction of the one we should be in. "You're drooling."

"Am not."

"Not literally, but figuratively speaking, you're drooling."

"Who says I'm gay?"

"I saw you and him in the club last week." Sam smirks again. "Kind of sucking each other's faces off."

"You knew already?" I frown, wondering why he choose to hang out with me instead of giving me shit about it being wrong.

"Seriously, it was really hard to miss, considering you guys were in the hallway and right in plain sight. If you want it to be a secret, you should be more careful about when you decide to dry hump another guy." He opens the door to the classroom after he finished his sentence. "As I was saying, we should agree on a time to sit together with the group and discuss who will do what part in the project..." He casually switches subjects, joining Paul and Vera at the group of tables in the back of the class. "And decide how to torture people if they don't do their work." He's already watching towards Nikki, a girl that misses half of the classes, hasn't said a word in the WhatsApp group we started and isn't really paying attention during class either.

"Death by hanging." Lennard joins in, chuckling over his own "joke".

"That's not torture, Len." Sam sends him an annoyed look. Yeah, we don't have the best project group ever, considering the fact Lennard is retarded, Nikki never seems to be bothered by anything and Vera is shy and submissive, even though she seems pretty smart. But we need to give presentations about our process every two weeks – the first is next week – and Vera refuses because she thinks it scary. At least I have Paul and Sam, who I hang out with during school since the beginning of the week.

Sam nearly jumped me when I got to school on Monday, asking me if I got home safe and didn't suffer from a gigantic hangover the day after.

"I was just kidding." Lennard answers in response, slumping down in his chair, looking disappointed nobody laughed over his stupid joke.

"I wasn't." Sam shrugs. "Really, I'm gonna beat the shit out of any of you who doesn't do their part. I heard about these group projects, and I refuse to fail a project because someone is lifting on my work." He sends yet another glare towards Nikki. "I do hit girls, just to be clear."

I laugh out a little, nudging him in his side. "Let's call it a truce for now, until we actually have proven someone isn't doing their part."

"I agree with Cris." Paul nods. "A hostile atmosphere isn't really motivating anyone."

"I just wanted things to be clear." Sam shrugs again. "But maybe I'm not the best leader for the group."

We divide the tasks, in which I end up being the leader, much to my dislike, but since they all voted for me I guess I was the right man for the job. But it does mean I get to decide who does what with who. So, off course I pair myself with Sam, who's grinning because I guess he already saw it coming.

But yeah, I'm not a big fan of most people in my class and if this is going to continue the rest of the year, I might go crazy in no-time.

______________

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