6. New Boy

The rest of the week and into the next went by at a snail's pace, and Will found himself asleep in nearly every class as the teachers droned on and on about things that he didn't care about but they insisted would matter later on.

Honestly. X was a letter, not a number. Should the Algebra teacher go back to kindergarten to learn the difference?

Then, halfway through Spanish, Mr. Hernandez stopped his lesson to introduce us to a new boy.

"This is Tristan Richardson," he explained, but Will didn't bother look up, instead scrolling through Instagram.

"Why don't you sit next to William?"

Will's head shot up. "Wha--"

His voice caught in his throat.

"Oh," he said, so quiet he almost missed that he said it.

Tristan was gorgeous. He had dark blue eyes, darker than Ash's, and pitch-black hair that was carefully styled. His tan, creamy skin was unblemished save for a scattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks, and he was walking his way.

Will swallowed hard and looked down.

He looks like Riley.

Ash had reopened old wounds when he'd asked about that picture of his ex-boyfriend, even inadvertently. Will knew he'd overreacted, but he'd been feeling overwhelmed and exhausted and emotionally strung-out and he hadn't cared about hurting the boy's feelings when he had no business looking so innocent and perfect.

Sure, he felt bad. But Ash had bounced right back to laughing and talking and grinning at him the next day. No harm, no foul, right?

"Hey," the new boy said, his lips twitching upward in a faint grin. He held out a hand. "I'm Tristan."

Will blinked a few times, then shook Tristan's hand. It was warm and firm and callused. "I'm Will."

"Great," Tristan said, his grin widening as he slid into the seat next to him. "What's going on? I just moved from Dallas, so River Heights is pretty different."

Will blinked. "Oh...that's what this place is called? I thought it was just..." He thought for a second. "Nope, never mind. I just thought of it as 'the tiny town I moved to.'"

Tristan laughed. It was a nice sound, beautiful and clear and it made Will's stomach clench painfully as he remembered Riley.

He looked away. "Ah. Um. We have a Spanish test tomorrow."

Tristan winced. "Ooh...that's gonna be rough. Mind if I study with you?"

"I don't study," Will said automatically, and Tristan's face fell.

Dammit. I'm in it deep.

"But...if you really need it..."

Tristan brightened. "Sweet! Where do you want to meet?"

"There's the library," Will said lamely. He couldn't bring Tristan to his house, because he never knew when his mother would get as drunk as she did on the first day of school. Will felt incredibly guilty, because he knew that he'd been the one to make her decide to do that.

"Sweet," Tristan said. "I'll meet you there after school? I live right next to it."

Will nodded numbly and turned back to the lesson.

~ ~ ~

"What are you doing after school?"

Ash's voice broke through Will's music, and he swiped his earbud back from his fingers, irritated. "Stuff. None of your business."

Ash sighed and wagged his finger in the air. "Will, please. I'm your friend, and therefore it is my business."

Will rolled his eyes and returned to his book, twenty-one Pilots playing in the background.

"There's other music, you know," Ash said. Will glanced over to him to see him scrolling through his playlist. "It's all Twenty-one Pilots? Where's the Regina Spektor? Billie Eillish?"

"Who?" Will said distractedly, grabbing for his phone.

Ash sighed and rolled his eyes, then searched something up and played it.

Will paused, then huffed and sat back. "Add it."

Ash grinned, then pressed a few buttons.

"What do you want from me? Why don't you run from me? What are you wondering? What do you know? Why aren't you scared of me? Why do you care for me? When we all fall asleep, where do we go?"

"Who is this?" Will asked, looking up again.

"Billie Eillish," Ash said distractedly, typing something into his phone. Then he looked up and grinned crookedly. "Oh, and now you have my number in your phone."

Will blinked, then realized what that meant. He scoffed, annoyed, but returned to his book.

Ash hesitated, then poked him in the shoulder. "Will? You in there?"

"Shut up, Ash."

"Ah, there he is. I thought he'd gone for a second. Seriously, dude. Where's the 'Don't mess with my stuff?' snap?"

"Don't mess with my stuff."

Ash grinned. "Too late now. Ha! I knew you'd warm up to me."

Will looked up at him and stared for a second.

Ash's smile faltered. "What?"

"Ash?"

"Hmmm?"

"Stop talking. I'm reading."

"What are you reading?"

Will groaned. "Dude. I just told you to stop."

"Yeah, but you got me curious." Ash pushed the cover of the book so he could see it. He looked up, amusement dancing in his blue eyes. "'The Spanish Dictionary'?" he read. "Why?"

"Because," Will muttered. "I'm helping a new kid study after school."

Ash's smile fell off his face. "Tristan Richardson?"

"Yeah."

Ash chewed his lip, looking away. "Oh."

"What?" Will marked his page with his finger. "Why that face?"

"Nothing," Ash said flatly, but his throat bobbed as he swallowed. "You should go help him..."

Will sighed. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong, Ash."

Ash looked up, and for once his face was entirely serious. The bruise Will had seen a week ago had already faded, and all that remained was a faint yellow patch on his otherwise pale skin.

"He's mean," Ash blurted.

Will arched a brow, a silent question.

"He's..." Ash looked away. "He made fun of me in front of the entire class. Algebra."

"The one where even the teacher doesn't seem to like you much?"

Ash looked surprised. "Um. Yeah. I...didn't know you were listening when I told you."

Of course I was, Will thought. I always listen.

Instead of saying that, Will sat back. "Fine. I guess I'll just have to cancel."

"What?" Ash stared at him. "Will, what are you talking about? You don't have to. It's not like it's all that important or anything."

Will looked at him coolly. "Fine, then. Tell me what he said, and I'll decide if I'll go or not."

Ash bit his lip. "Ah...he said I lived in a shack and the reason my clothes looked dirty all the time was because my dad was a trashy drunk who didn't care whether I lived or died." He looked away, and Will thought he saw tears in his eyes.

Will didn't move for a moment, then stood up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and grabbing his book.

"Where are you going?" Ash asked, his voice cracking on the last word. He cleared his throat.

"To the library. That's where I said I'd meet Tristan."

Ash bit his lip--hard. Will thought he saw a drop of blood. "Oh. Well. See you tomorrow, Will. Call me if you want...I put my contact in your phone."

"Mmm." Will didn't say anything else, simply left.

- - - - - -

Vote and comment if you liked it.

I'll try to update as soon as possible--who knows? Maybe I'll even get the next chapter out today!

What do you think of Tristan? Don't hold back from calling him a fat, ugly, whore-man. :)

Q: What's your favorite movie?

A: Five Feet Apart.