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“It’s imported,” the barista said as she took the ten from his hand and made change. “It’s why it costs almost five bucks.”
“I’ll pay it. I keep trying to get my cousins to send me care packages, but they hate me.” He ripped open the sachet and dunked it immediately into the water. He was profoundly aware of Gabe still watching him, so he put on one of his softer smirks as he threw the remaining change into their tip jar. “Thanks loads. I’ll definitely be back.”
He hitched his pack up higher onto his shoulder before choosing the table furthest from the window, pulled out his laptop, and fired it up. He had too much work to get finished, too much research for his thesis which wasn’t due for another year, but his still-vague topic of gender bias at the start of media productions didn’t give him a lot to work with. He had a few websites he was checking out, and he was attempting to get appointments with a couple heads of the Journalism department which was proving difficult.
He was aware of eyes on him, and glancing to the side, he saw Gabe watching as he refilled the pastry window. Oliver smiled again, mostly to himself, but he knew he was being checked out and he was absolutely okay with it. Someone that cute? He was into it.
The next hour passed quick enough, so much so he didn’t realize he was about to be late for class, and he swore loudly as he slammed his laptop shut and began to fumble it into his bag. Just as he was gathering up his phone and keys, there was a presence beside him.
His head snapped over, and his eyes widened to see the barista standing there. Oliver’s eyes flickered over his nametag, ‘Gabriel “Gabe” Bensaïd’, and he couldn’t help his smile.
“For the road?” Gabe held out a smaller paper cup, the lid snapped on, but the tea bag string was hanging over the edge.
Oliver’s gaze fixed on Gabe’s longer, thin fingers. He cleared his throat, dragging his gaze up to Gabe’s smirking face. “Really?”
Gabe shrugged. “You looked really stressed.”
Oliver closed his hands around the top of the cup, his fingertips brushing against Gabe’s, and he felt a tingle up his arm which he enjoyed. “Oh, just another one of those, ‘Fuck me for choosing a horrible topic to do my dissertation on,’ moments. They’re pretty common round here. Or so I’ve heard.”
Gabe smiled, revealing mostly straight teeth, his canines turned out just a little giving his grin more character than most people had. “I know that panic. Intimately. And it’s definitely a two cup of tea panic.”
Oliver wanted to say more, but the chime of the campus clock reminded him he had two minutes to make his five-minute walk before class began, and this particular professor took great joy in embarrassing people who were late—not that Oliver was ever bothered by extra attention. But still, he was trying to be good this year.
“Well, I have to dash. I’m already late, and it seems like it’s going to be one of those days.” He gave him a mock salute as he backed up toward the exit, tripping a little over his feet as Gabe snickered, then he was out the door and off to his class.
* * *
“I swear,Ollie, it’s like you enjoy getting verbally abused by your professors.” Coco was lounging on the sofa under the window, one foot tucked up against her chest, a cup of tea clutched between both hands. “You literally had no reason to be late today.”
Oliver rolled his eyes as he lounged sideways in the recliner, his head hanging off the side. “I have perfectly good reasons every time I’m late, love. Today happened to be a second cup of tea.”
“Ay dios mio ayúdame,” she muttered. “Listen, I got four texts from Leo today. He’s begging for us to go out with him, but I don’t think you should. You have chapters due.”
“What are you, my mum? Because I’m telling you now, if you want the job, it’s up for hire. And anyway, I wasn’t going to say yes to him. I’m still shattered from last night.”
“I know how you are with him.”
Oliver sat up a little, giving her a challenging stare. “And how’s that?”
“You don’t tell him no, even when you should. He’s a grown boy. He can go to the clubs and destroy his life all on his own.”
Oliver felt a twisting in his gut, because although his housemate didn’t know it, those were the magic words.Destroy his life. Oliver had dedicated too many of his hours, his tears, too much of his well-being in order to keep Leo safe, and he wasn’t going to stop now.
“Look, whatever I do is my business. And you know I adore you, but…”
“Spare me,” Coco said, waving her hand at him. “I know what you’re going to say, and I figured the least I could do was throw in my two cents. I know you’re not going to listen to me, but what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t at least try.”
“Better one than I am,” Oliver said with a wide grin.
She let slip a long string of Spanish expletives before getting up and setting her mug on the low table. She passed by the chair, giving his hair a ruffle as she looked down at him. “I’m probably going out tonight too. If I see him, you know I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Course you will, love,” he muttered. But the truth was, if Leo asked, he wouldn’t be saying no. Oliver damn well knew he couldn’t let his spiraling sibling out on his own.
Slipping out of the room, Coco headed up the stairs to get ready for the night. When Oliver heard the bathroom door slam, he eased himself out of the chair and wandered into the kitchen. There were a few boxes of left over Chinese in the fridge, and he threw them into a pot, mixing up everything into one big mess, then flicked on the burner and waited.
As it simmered, Oliver heard footsteps and glanced up just as the tousled head of his sibling came around the corner. Leo was dressed in plaid pajama bottoms, no shirt, his thick, black tattoos shining against his pale skin in the faded afternoon light. His eyes were bloodshot, puffy around the edges, but he was smiling, and he seemed sober.
“Hungry?”
