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"As SGA president, I will do the best I can to fulfill the motley needs of the student body here at Georgian College. Thank you for the vote, and I can promise you…you made the right choice."
Noah set his cue cards down in front of him in a perfectly neat little pile. When he looked up, the eyes that looked back were disinterested. He sighed. "What did I do wrong?"
In front of him, sitting in a cozy pile on his bed, were his closest friends: Owen, Izzy, and Eva. They'd been helping him practice his presidential acceptance speech in the (likely, in his opinion) event that he won against Type-A Courtney this year, and, obviously, this draft had failed, as all the others before it had.
"Well," Owen began lightly, "it wasn't bad. Actually, this one was much better than the rest of them!" He smiled brightly. Noah knew he'd meant that as a genuine compliment and tried not to take it personally.
"Duly noted," he deadpanned, shifting his gaze to Owen's girlfriend, Izzy, who was draped over the blonde's torso. "Any scintillating wit from my star supporter, this time?"
Izzy, to his annoyance, answered to the affirmative. "For starters I'd stop trying to look constipated."
"I don't look constipated."
"You definitely do," Eva said, not smiling but joking all the same. Years of friendship had conditioned him to recognize her barely-differing tones.
"I mean, not really…" Owen offered sweetly, rubbing the back of his neck. "You look like you, and that's who people are voting for, so…!"
Despite his dour expression, Noah took this to heart and, secretly, it flattered him. "You've got a point," he replied. It was the best he'd gotten so far, anyway.
"That's so sweet of you to say," Izzy crooned in Owen's direction, flinging herself into his lap and attacking him with a hug.
"Aw, thanks, Iz," he said, patting her on the back—which was fairly tame PDA for him, especially in comparison to Izzy's current level of enthusiasm.
Noah rolled his eyes. "Could you keep that off my bed, please?"
"But there's no room on Big O's," Izzy protested, pointing across the messy floor at Owen's equally messy bed, piled with laundry and food wrappers of dubious origin.
"Go to the commons," Noah said, sounding a little more irritated than he'd meant to. "I'm gonna be sick."
"Wow," Eva said, narrowing her eyes at him. One of her rare smiles graced her lips, capturing the attention of everyone else in the room. "Someone's jealous, huh?"
Noah nearly had a heart attack. He hadn't told her that, had he? He didn't remember telling her.
"Gag me," he managed to grit out. "I mean it—literally choke me to death if you honestly think I'd be jealous of…that." He gestured vaguely in the direction of Owen and Izzy's combined silhouette.
"Whatever, man," Eva offered, holding her hands up as if in defense. "I'm only joking."
When she stood, Noah tried not to let his guilty eyes follow her. "Have fun in molecular snore-ology," he told her, waving lamely while he focused his attentions on his cue cards again.
Eva snorted. "Fun. Right. Good luck with that preemptive acceptance speech." Noah offered her a middle-finger salute, at which she grinned. "I'm just saying you haven't actually won yet."
"I know that, you bitch," he said fondly. "But I think I have a pretty good shot, considering the other options."
"You're probably right," Eva said, and she meant it. With that as her closing statement, she left Noah and Owen's dorm room, following moments later by a scrambling Izzy, who had to collect her things before following the other girl to class.
"Bye Owen! Bye Noah!" she called to them without looking back.
The dorm door creaked closed behind them, slowly and painfully, leaving the boys together in an awkward silence that Noah wasn't sure how to mediate.
"Hey, listen, Noah…" Owen started. Noah wanted to die.
"I'm not—" he started, in his defense, before Owen cut him off.
"It's okay if you want to date Izzy because I'm breaking up with her!" It came out all in one breath, like a confession he'd been waiting to get off his chest for a long time.
Surprised at the misinterpretation of Eva's comment, Noah took a second to regroup. "Uhh…I do not want to date Izzy." The moment he'd said it, he regretted it. Now Owen was left with the only other thing Eva could have possibly meant: the truth.
"Oh," Owen breathed more than spoke. He sounded weirdly relieved. "Phew, 'cause that'd be kinda weird, ya know? No offense."
"None taken," Noah replied, drumming his fingers anxiously on his knee. He waited for the inevitability of being caught, and it took him a full minute of stupid, horrible silence for him to remember who he was talking to. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I agree with you. Me dating Izzy would be weird."
"Super weird!" Owen agreed, laughing in that boyish way of his that Noah had become regretfully attached to since their stint on Total Drama. After a second, Owen regarded him with a strangely serious expression. "Y'know, I just can't imagine you really dating at all, buddy. I don't mean that in a bad way! It's just that…have you ever actually had a girlfriend?"
Noah pursed his lips. After four years, they were finally going to have this conversation. It wasn't that Noah hid this part of him or anything, it was just that Owen was a tragic blabbermouth and he didn't exactly want the entire viewing world knowing him on that personal of a level. "Not a girlfriend," he answered at length, putting his chin in his hand and awaiting the following track of questions. "Guess again."
Owen's smile was obnoxious enough to be contagious. "Oh my god, no way!"
"You are such an idiot," Noah said without malice. "We've been friends since we were sixteen, dude."
"I just…!" Owen laughed, wiping tears from his eyes as though it were particularly funny. "I was always afraid to tell you that I liked guys! And this whole time… Oh, boy." He sighed, satisfied with his moment of clarity.
Noah rolled his eyes. "I could have told you that years ago."
Owen pouted. "Come on, I wasn't that obvious."
"Yeah, you kind of were."
"What gave it away? You or Alejandro?"
Right on the tip of Noah's tongue was the name "Justin," but his brain short-circuited when what Owen had said actually processed. He back-pedaled. "Excuse me?"
Owen paled. "I didn't say anything!"
"You did," Noah replied accusingly, eyes narrowing at his roommate. "I heard it."
Owen, bless his heart, began twiddling his thumbs nervously and avoided eye contact. "Okay, so, I kind of, maybe, had a huge crush on you back on World Tour." There was a pause, after which he admitted, more softly, "And on Ridonculous Race."
Noah pushed himself to the edge of his chair and leaned forward to study the other's expression. "Owen," he began carefully, "Ridonculous Race just ended."
"Yeah…" Owen replied, looking up at the ceiling. He didn't add anything else.
Noah suddenly couldn't quite remember how they'd gotten into this conversation. "I, uh…" For once, words failed him. Stupidly, he said, "Thanks?"
Owen made a face like something stunk. "I didn't mean to make this weird."
"You didn't," Noah lied, glancing at the microwave clock more as an excuse to avert his gaze than to check the time.
"But I guess since we're here," Owen said, blowing out a defeated puff of air, "I might as well ask you."
After skillfully assembling his best disinterested face, Noah looked back into imploring blue eyes. "Shoot, big guy."
"You wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?"
The corner of Noah's lips twitched, threatening to give him away. When an appropriate amount of time had passed and his mouth started to feel a little less dry, he gave what he hoped was an unenthusiastic, "I mean, why not, I guess?"
Owen brightened insurmountably. "For real?"
"For real," Noah replied, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. "On one condition."
"Sure, little buddy!"
"You pay for dinner."
At that, Owen laughed. "All right," he said cheerily, "it's a deal."