Chapter Text
Brendan:
You’d noticed August before Mark ever brought him up. He was the new kid in your Biology class. You’d seen him at the front speaking with your teacher on his first day. Then he’d sat next to a girl near the front, Janice, or something.
You watched them talk. Everything about his posture was quiet, unobtrusive, head bowed and arms tucked into his sides. He was scrawny too, the top knobs of his spine visible over the collar of his shirt.
The lesson began and you turned to your notes. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, probably Sam checking in on you. He’s one of your oldest friends, he went to your old school so you both had to make time for each other if you ever wanted to hang out. Mostly he came to visit you at your Aunt’s house, it was too much to go back home. Too many memories.
You hadn’t fought the relocation as much as you could’ve, a part of you wanting to move in with your Aunt. Away from everything. Plus you already had close friend in this school district, and Sam promised he’d keep in touch, almost a full year later and that still rang true.
Your eyes keep straying to the new kid. His left hand is at the back of his neck, fingers sliding up into dirty blonde curls and then back down again to dip just past the collar of his shirt. A nervous habit probably. And his right hand was busy with his pencil, taking notes.
His clothes are big on him, not purposefully like Mark’s thick, oversized hoodies and T-shirts. The layering doesn’t do him any favors either. The way his clothes settle over his frame emphasizes his bones pressing against the material. It wraps around him almost like armor, or a hug providing him with comfort against the harsh environment.
One that would surely tear him apart.
The bell rings, next is lunch which you’re supposed to be in detention for. For fighting, for a whole month. You go most days, you don’t have much else to do, if you’re caught in the lunch room when you’re supposed to be in detention it only results in more detention. It isn’t all bad, you mostly use the time to get your schoolwork out of the way. Your mind finally takes a break from the new kid when you file into detention.
It’s a couple of days later during the Art class that Cam convinced you to take with him that he mentions making friends with a new kid. It’s not really shocking, Cam makes friends with nearly everyone he meets.
“He kind of reminds me of you,”
“Really?” you ask, half listening as you haphazardly add a blob of paint, art’s not really your thing.
“Yeah, he’s quiet, shy.” You elbow him in the side out of protest.
“I’m not shy, Sam’s shy.” Cam snorts, unconvinced.
He stops drawing and turns to face you, you sigh and mirror him. Cam’s body language is open and inviting. His legs are long, and shoulders wide but his frame is willowy. He carries himself with a kind of delicate grace surprising for his stature. He isn’t intimidating in the slightest, it’s easy to see why a shy kid would warm up to somebody like Cam so easily.
“You were when we were kids,” You roll your eyes. “Now you’re just shy and an asshole,”
“We were seven,” he’s talking about when you met. You cried on the first day of school when the teacher asked you to introduce yourself to the class. It’s an embarrassing memory, Cam likes to bring it up because he knows how much it irritates you. Despite the fact you would never admit that.
“Doesn’t mean it’s not true,” you turn back to your painting, determined to ignore Cam as long as he’s making outrageous comments. You're not shy, just picky.
“He’s cute,” Cam continues, you forget what you’re doing with your painting. “I like his eyes. He’s shy but sweet. Tired looking.” you’re not jealous you’re just… wary. Who the hell is this kid he won’t shut up about? Sometimes you think he’s far too trusting.
It’s a week later when you meet Cam’s new friend. Your detention sentence is finally served so you find Cam in his usual place in the lunchroom by the big windows. As you approach your eyes find the familiar slope of the back of the new kid's neck. 2 and 2 come together and you realize he and Cam’s new friend are one and the same person.
The kid looks cold and irritated and Cam’s eyes are on him. He looks concerned. You stop behind the new kid and Cam looks up at you with a wide smile.
“Brendan!” he exclaims in greeting. Your eyes meet when the new kid turns to look at you. You’re frozen on the spot for just a moment because Cam never mentioned just how blue his eyes were. The look Mark gives you is knowing and that irritates the shit out of you. “Finally out of detention?”
You flash him your eyebrows, “For now,”
Cam rolls his eyes and extends his arm towards the new kid, “This is August,”
August.
He doesn’t seem to be paying much attention, fiddling away at his phone. You don’t think he even heard Cam say his name. Cam huffs a laugh and you step closer, hovering intentionally. August shifts away from you as best he can and kind of curls into himself as he eats.
Cam watches all of this with knowing eyes, “Brendan,” he warns you as you reach down and steal a fry off the kid’s plate. This finally gets a reaction out of him. He twists to look at you as you pop the fry in your mouth. He frowns and pulls his food tray closer to himself protectively.
“You don’t mind do you?” you ask, mocking. August laughs awkwardly, looking at you out of the corner of his eye, you can tell you’re throwing him off. His brow furrows, his mouth screwing uncertainly. He doesn’t know how to act. He looks down at his plate.
Cam says, “Brendan don’t,” before you’re even moving. You invade August’s space, he jumps when you start speaking.
“You’ll share with me won’t you?” August turns to look at Cam, eyes scared and Cam looks back at him just as puzzled.
“Brendan-” Cam tries again and you drop a hand onto August’s shoulder just to watch him jump. Skittish isn’t he? You can feel his bones poking out against all the layers he wore in an attempt to keep warm. Evidently, that’s as much as he can stand, and now he does stand turning around to face you fully for the first time.
“Stop,” he finally says, his voice is lower than you expected, arguably the lowest between the three of you. But he’s so soft spoken the word falls from his mouth without conviction. It reminds you of your ex with a pang. He’s taller than you expected too, you’re nearly eye level but you think you still have a few inches on him. He’s so lean his body looks long the same way Cam’s does but he’s decidedly slight.
Where yours and Cam’s shoulders fill out his remain small so it gives off a certain level of defenselessness. He’s angry though, he can’t quite keep that off his face. He’s tense and square, he gives you the impression he knows what he’s doing. He knows how to protect his weak points and to strike where it hurts. He didn’t learn this from self-defense classes, he’s learned it from dealing with assholes like you.
He’s sizing you up as much as you are him and Cam seems to recognize the familiar tension from your previous fights. He places a grounding hand on the kid's wrist, August simply pulls free and tells you, “You can have it,” like it never mattered to him in the first place. He grabs his bag and eases past you to retreat with one final glance at the both of you.
You take his vacated seat and start in on his food. Well, it’s your food now.
“What the hell was that about,” Cam asks, inquisitive eyes on your face. You meet his eyes cooly and continue to eat. “God, you’re such an asshole,” he exclaims.
You take another bite before responding, “I wanted to see how he’d react,” you explain.
“I think you pissed him off,” Cam frowns, pulling August’s stray out of your reach, “and you’ve pissed me off too.”
You sigh and lean back in your seat, “Well don’t waste it,” you say, gesturing at the food.
Cam frowns but starts eating angrily, it’s an interesting combo. You can’t tell if it’s funny or… something else. You banish that thought from your mind.
“Were you trying to scare him off?” you shrug carelessly.
“Are you jealous or something?” Cam demands, he sounds like he’s getting pissed. You scoff and shake your head. Cam gazes at you, penetrating, then he looks at you like maybe he’s seeing you for the first time. It makes you uncomfortable, “Brendan?” he tries, voice softer.
You don’t answer and lean back in your seat, your foot jiggling restlessly. Cam frowns then pulls out his phone, you’re pretty sure he’s checking on August. That hurts.
“We’ll talk about this later,” Cam states, leaving no room for argument. It grates on you.
But you ask, “What’re you doing?” as a sort of peace offering.
“I’m texting August and apologizing for how weird that was,” You sigh and run a hand through your hair, fingers catching in the curls. You need a haircut.
“It wasn’t that bad,” you state, tone casual.
“Bad enough for him to run away,” he retorts before tucking his phone away You shake your head, and neither of you talk the rest of the lunch period picking at August’s abandoned plate. Hell of a way to kick off your first day back.