Chapter Eight

"What do you want—"

"Why didn't you answer?" Alfred, who was lying on his bed, shot up almost instantly.

"Excuse me?"

"I called like 100 times! Least you could do is answer after the 42nd you know." He ran his fingers through his hair.

"Well excuse me, I might've been busy and may not have had my phone on me. And who are you to tell me I have to answer you? I don't have to you know, I could've let it ring and let you –"

"Sorry. You know. For what I said."

"—waste my own and your time too—what?"

"I'm sorry."

"Oh."

"That's it? Oh? You scream at my for insulting you the tiniest bit and I apologize to you, which I didn't have to do anyway, and you say oh?" Alfred stood up and started pacing around the room.

"…"

"Okay, seriously say something please 'cause this is getting awkward." He was about to hang up the phone.

"…"

"Artie?" Defeated, he sat back down on the bed.

"…"

"Fine. Be fucking stubborn. I don't care." He moved the phone away from his ear and almost ended the call, but a voice stopped him before he could.

"Sorry."

"Huh?"

"I'm apologizing you twit, shut your gob. I'm sorry for lashing out on you. I may have had a few…problems to deal with, but I shouldn't have taken them out on you. Sorry."

"Well…alright then. We cool?"

"Yes…we're 'cool.'"

"Awesome. See you tomorrow?"

"Of course. Goodbye, Alfred."

"Night Artie!" Alfred canceled the call and threw his phone on his end table. As he looked for the charger in his drawer, he smiled.

Mission accomplished.

Matthew shucked off his hoodie, throwing into the nearby laundry bin. He held a small piece of paper in his hand. Ever since he'd gotten it, it had been all he could think about.

It read:

Mathieu—(He refused to write it any other way)

In case you ever need to get a hold of me, for anything.

xxx-xxxx

Very short, but it quickened Matt's blood all the same. In his other school, no one had actually taken the time to even strike up a conversation with him, let alone become close enough to him to give him their number.

He'd never had someone flirt so unapologetically with him before either. Usually things like that went right over his head, but with Francis, it was like he really didn't care about Matthew's, or anyone's, opinion of him. If he liked them, he would let him know. In a way, it scared Matt, to talk to someone so unlike himself. In all honesty, he was a bit jealous of Francis's more outgoing personality.

But he had also never been more attracted to someone else before in his life.

The first thing that he liked about Francis was how he stood. Confident, but not arrogant. The second was his stature. Tall, skinny with just a hint of muscle. And the third? The easy way Francis seemed to get him to open up. In just a few minutes Francis had him spouting things no one had ever heard. Like how Matthew hated New York anyway, and really liked smaller towns like this. Not only that, but when he was on his own, he'd love to live in a cabin somewhere in the wilderness. Not even Alfred knew that about him.

There was also the small matter of being gay.

He'd never officially 'come out' to his mom and brother so he really didn't know if they knew. He didn't know how they'd react…his mom would be fine with it. She'd always been the twins' biggest cheerleader. It was Alfred he was worried about.

What if he thought less of Matthew?

What if he felt weird around him? That was the one Matt thought he wouldn't be able to take. It was almost as painful as outright rejection. There'd be an awkwardness around them every time they were in the same room and Alfred would always feel uncomfortable around him. They never talked about relationships anyway. Friends, yes. Because Matt was quieter he'd often only become friends with whoever Alfred brought over to hang out.

But they never really talked about who they liked or who liked them. So, as far Matt knew, Al had no idea matt was gay.

And if he and Francis went the direction he thought (hoped, wished, dreamed) they were going, Matt would need to tell his family.

He wish the thought didn't make his knees weaker than when Francis moved the hair from his eyes.

Alfred rested his head in his arms on his desk, fighting the urge to fall asleep. Feliks was next to him, chattering on about someone named Toris.

"Anyway he totally asked me to go out with him on Saturday to the mall after I told him I needed some new shoes."

"Wait—you're going out with a guy?" Feliks turned to him, eyebrow arched high on his forehead. His fingers were still painted a bright pink, matching his shirt, and there was a barrette in his hair holding his bangs back.

"Did you really think I went for girls?" Feliks's tone went from amused disbelief to defensive in a split second. "Does it, like, bother you?" he asked cautiously.

"Well, no. I mean I just never thought about it I guess." Feliks relaxed in his seat, while Alfred shifted around nervously.

"Well, I think you should totally think about it because you never know who might, like, like you. You know?" Feliks looked to Alfred with a sly glance. Alfred laughed it off while Feliks returned to one of his trashy magazines.

Gym was an awkward affair. Arthur and he scuffled around each other to get to their respective lockers. The awkward silence was cut short by a chuckle from Arthur when Alfred's shirt got caught on his glasses when he forgot to take them off first.

Alfred turned to him with a smile, taking of his glasses, and righting his shirt, missing a faint blush forming on Arthur's face.

"Hey so, I was thinking," Arthur's eyes snapped up to meet Alfred's. "Do you want to come to basketball tryouts on Friday? Be my personal cheerleader and all that?" Alfred nudged Arthur's arm with his elbow.

"As much as I'd like to watch you make a fool of yourself, I can't. I have to watch Peter for my mum." Alfred thought he masked his disappointed very well, thank you very much.

"Oh. Well do you want to hang out or something before that then?"

"I'd…like that. Are you free tomorrow? I don't have anything planned…"

"Wednesday it is then! You can come over to my place after school. My mom is cool with that stuff. Hey, you could even eat with us!" Alfred was growing more excited by the minute.

"I don't want to impose…" Arthur said uncertainly.

"Oh please, Artie, my mom's crazy about that hostess stuff. It'd probably make her freakin' week, to tell you the truth." Alfred held the heavy locker room door open while the left the room to wait in the hall.

"Well then I suppose I have no other option then." They both leaned against the cold outside wall of the gymnasium.

"Nope, you're stuck with me!" Arthur gave a small smile.

"I am indeed."

A/N: asdfjkl; I'm sorry. I'm a terrible author. Apparently when I get writer's block it stays there and I forget where my stories are going, so I have to read them again and hgadshgf. Sorry. And I also kind of left the fandom for a little bit, but I'm back. (Apparently there's something called Hetaoni?) Hopefully there are still readers out there ;_;

Okay, that being said, I like this chapter. I feel like I'm getting somewhere with the story now and hopefully I'll have more chapters coming out. Also, I'm gonna be rewriting and revising the previous chapters because there are so many mistakes omg.