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He wasn’t sure why he said yes in the first place.
Actually he knew why. It was because Tad had only asked a goddamn million times and Adam, though completely willing to viciously deconstruct the superficial ego of an Aglionby boy, didn’t have the heart to reject him again. Plus Tad had the awful habit of appearing out of nowhere and only when Adam was rushing: either towards first period or getting ready for his shifts after class, when he was fumbling with his textbooks, balancing his bag over one knobby shoulder.
Today was no different. Adam had escaped from his last class of the day, hurriedly making his way down the hall in hopes of beating the rush and getting to his shift at Boyds, when he noticed Tad lingering around his locker. He felt a sense of dread curl up in his stomach.
He knew he was overreacting. Tad wasn’t so bad, Adam just didn’t have the time for this.
“Adam, hey! Good to see you, man.” Tad perked up the moment he’d seen Adam, clapping the locker door. Adam winced at the sound echoing down the hall as students started pooling out of their lessons.
“Hey, Tad.” Adam sighed. Tad sidestepped while Adam opened his locker, quickly reshuffling his books, packing his assigned readings for the night. After a moment of Tad quietly hovering next to him, Adam continued, trying to hide his irritation. “Did you need something?”
Tad rapped his knuckles against the locker door in forethought. “Not really, just wanted to chat. That English Lit project was pretty bullshit, hey?”
“I can’t really talk now, Tad. I have a shift that starts in a half hour.”
“Oh, cool. Do you, uh, need a ride or something?”
“I have a car.”
“Yeah, it’s cool, I’ve seen it. Just… mine can go pretty fast. You know, if you wanted to get to work early, or whatever.” Tad laughed awkwardly.
“I think my car works just fine.” Adam muttered. He swung his bag over his shoulder, closing his locker.
“Are you sure?” Tad untucked his key chain from his pocket and twirled it around his finger. The keys nearly fell twice, Tad struggling to appear nonchalant and Adam felt the edges of his lips quirk. “I just bought a new car. It’s only a few days old, shipped from Italy and everything.”
The beginning of Adam’s smile died.
“I think I’ll make it. Somehow I’ve managed to get to work on time with my piece of shit car, thanks.”
Tad must’ve noticed that he’d said something wrong because he visibly wilted. “I, uh - I know that you’re pretty busy but-”
Adam was far too familiar with Tad’s advances. He didn’t have the time for this. He started marching down the corridor, Tad quickly keeping pace. “I’m sorry Tad but I can’t. I’ve got work and-”
“Yeah, for sure. I was thinking maybe we could study together tomorrow? At the public library? We have that history essay coming up and there are some great books there on several dictators.”
Adam paused.
Tad continued. “Only a couple hours. Just a super casual study date.” His voice became inordinately squeaky at the end. He had blurted ‘date’ so fast Adam strained to catch what he had said in the first place.
Despite better judgement, Adam found himself considering it. He hadn’t started that historical essay because he’d been struggling to find legitimate texts. He had briefly mentioned it to Tad in passing. The fact that he had listened, offering to go study instead of his previous offerings of blatant shows of excessive wealth, despite the fact that Carruthers most likely couldn’t care less about his studies was admittedly impressive. Impressive might’ve been too grand of a word, it was a kind gesture if anything else and Adam handled kindness the way he handled anything that he was unfamiliar with: he held onto it with a fumbling, relentless, grip.
Adam flicked a glance at his wrist watch. Fuck, this conversation had dragged on for a ten minutes he didn’t have.
Tad looked at him in earnest, nervously toying with buttons of his cardigan. Before he could help himself, Adam blurted. “Sure, fine. I’ll meet you after fourth period tomorrow.”
Tad flashed a triumphant smile. “Sure, sure. I’ll see you then.”
“Bye Tad.” Adam said, rushing past the entrance and towards his vehicle.
He heard Tad squawk out a hurried ‘good bye.’ Adam exhaled an impatient breath, tossing his bag in the passenger’s side, ignoring his sealed fate of tomorrow and instead focussing on not being too horribly late for Boyds.
The ‘date’ was awful. Typically.
It was a mixture of Tad’s rushed conversation, stuttered backtracking after being inadvertently offensive or feigning a casual indifference whenever he spoke of his inordinate wealth, offering to buy Adam lunch or dinner or his grocery list for the next month. Adam silently stewed, attempting to be productive but Tad would obnoxiously shut Adam’s opened book, starting a new conversation that failed to hold interest.
At first Adam tried. He catered to Tad’s superficial gossip. It was after the third time of Tad calling him ‘Poor Boy,’ as if Adam was endeared by this nickname, that he snapped and coldly stormed out. Tad did not follow him but Adam didn’t expect him to.
He roughly opened his car door, slouching down in his seat, both hands gripping the wheel as he pressed his forehead against its rim. He let out a defeated breath.
He was angry for being angry. He was frustrated for being frustrated. He wanted to go to his shabby apartment over St. Agnes, curl up under his ratty blanket and fall into a dreamless sleep. Except, he still had homework and a shift that started at 10 that night and never enough time to balance everything at once. It was usually sleep that took the hit and Adam had become accustomed to the weighty feel of exhaustion that he wore around like a second coat.
He took another steadying breath before peeling out of the lot.
He needed to complete his homework. Before Adam had realized what he was doing, he was driving down a familiar route, window down as the fall breeze curled around his hair, biting his cheek.
He ended up at a small cafe housed on Foxway drive.
It was one of his favourite places to study as it was always quiet, hardly anyone knew of its existence as it was somewhat difficult to find, and his best friend, Blue Sargent, worked there.
He entered the quaint cafe, the bell attached to the door ringing in greeting and signalling his entrance. Adam ordered a small black coffee and surveyed the room until his eyes fell on Blue’s figure currently crouched near a recently vacated table, wiping up a spill. She turned, catching his eye and Adam grinned at how Blue dramatically rolled her eyes while she cleaned up the mess, most likely internally cursing out whoever had just left. She gestured at him to sit - she’d always come to join him when she was free - and Adam grabbed his coffee in search of the booth he sat at routinely.
The shop was small but there was a tiny booth near the back corner, nearly hidden behind an obscure placement of a large plant and sat underneath dangling lights that left a dim, orange glow over the table’s surface. It was also uniquely placed by the far back counter, close enough that Blue and Adam could chat if she was ever busy with collecting pastries or cleaning out the coffee machines.
Adam ached to sink into the red leather of the booth. Instead, as he turned the corner, he noticed that his spot was already occupied.
Past the foliage of the large plant, Adam saw a boy lounging across the seat, hands tucked behind his head as he leaned back. His mouth was downturned in a vivid scowl, the dim lights shuttering his burning expression in a way that Adam’s mind helpfully chimed in as ‘savagely handsome.’ The figure, from what Adam could see, was clad in a dark leather jacket and that, paired with his shaved hair and stormy expression, helped Adam immediately recognize him as Ronan fucking Lynch.
There was another boy who was facing the infamous Ronan Lynch, back turned towards Adam, but he paid him no mind instead focusing on how Ronan glared, crossing his arms over his chest. Adam stood off at the side, unnoticed. From the bright fuchsia colour of the shirt of the boy sitting opposite of Lynch, posture near perfect and the smooth way his voice cooled Lynch’s growing temper - and the only boy who would have dared speak with Lynch outside of class, much less drag him to a coffee shop - Adam quickly dubbed him as none other than Richard Gansey.
Of course, it’d be fucking Aglionby boys, the most self righteous paired with the most dangerous, that had stolen his favourite seat, on today of all days.
Adam backtracked, accidentally knocking his coffee and droplets of the hot beverage flicked over his fingers. He silently cursed, leaving as quietly as he arrived and settling in a far less covert booth, diagonal from where Ronan Lynch and Richard Gansey were.
He heaved a tired sigh. He took a long gulp of his drink wincing at how it burned his throat, dropping his bag next to him and hauling out his math book.
“Christ, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
Adam cracked his eyes open from where he was slouched over his textbook, scribbled sheets of math equations scrawled neatly in his notebook. He had closed his eyes for what felt like only a second.
Blue slid into the seat in front of him, frowning at Adam’s general appearance of dishevelment, reaching over to swipe the tendrils of hair that fell over his forehead out of his eyes and tucking loose stray hairs behind his ear. Adam leaned into the touch, muttering out a vague greeting.
“You need a haircut.” Blue rolled her eyes, shoving forward a dainty plate that held a large sandwich cut in half and a blueberry muffin.
“Blue…” Adam started.
“Oh, Blue nothing.” She snapped. “It’s all leftovers anyways.”
“Thank you.” Adam murmured.
Blue waved her hand in dismissal. This had become somewhat of a routine as well.
Adam hesitated before finally reaching over and pulling the plate from where it was situated halfway across the table. The sandwich was still warm and Adam’s stomach rumbled as he took a massive bite. He polished everything off in record time while Blue sat in front of complaining of previous customers.
Adam felt his mind drift as Blue’s familiar voice rambled into a brilliant tirade. He thought of Tad. Normally, he wouldn’t have had a spot in the depths of Adam’s mind, their encounters sliding off of Adam as inconsequential. Tad had a particular gift of appearing only where he was unwanted. At first, Adam wouldn’t have minded a friend at Aglionby, someone to fill the disdain of being an outcast - the scholarship student built from the wreckage of poverty - with companionable chatter. But Tad often believed that the best method to impress Adam Parrish was to remind him of just how unimpressive he was, constantly teasing Adam of his second hand uniform, his unevenly cropped hair, his freckles that splayed over his face like dirt, the way his Henrietta accent adorned each word no matter how hard Adam tried to reign it in.
It only served as a way to remind Adam of how he was never going to fit in. Not with this crowd. No matter how hard he worked towards something better, he was never going to be. He was never going to stop checking the prices in the supermarket, he was never going to be entirely rid of his accent or his family or the cracks that embellished his dry hands.
He thought of Ronan Lynch and Richard Gansey who occupied this small building with their large-ness, the way they seamlessly fit into whichever environment they inhabited. Lynch was admittedly more of an anomaly but he still had his money, his family, the companionship of Richard Gansey, the prince of Aglionby himself.
“What’s wrong?” Blue’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, the low buzz of movement in the cafe slowly returning from where his mind had drowned it out.
“What?” Adam responded, a second too late.
“You’re being all,” Blue waved her hands pointedly, “quiet and weird.”
“I am not.” But he knew he was. He felt bad, he had eaten all of what Blue had offered him and didn't have the decency to give her his attention. “I’m sorry.” Adam haggardly ran a hand through his hair. “Just tired.”
“What’s up? You know you can talk to me, right? It’s kind’ve what friends are for.”
“I thought friends were for free stolen food.”
Blue swatted at Adam’s shoulder. “You’re lucky I can provide both stolen food and incredible advice.”
“The Blue Sargent way.”
“Damn straight.” She grinned and Adam allowed himself to quietly admire the brilliant fire of her expression. He was grateful that they were friends and even if Adam had been doomed to be the loneliest, most unknowable boy in Henrietta, he was glad that Blue had accidentally knocked over a water pitcher several months ago, spilling water over his school notes and kickstarting their friendship. She’d called her mom to bring a hairdryer and sat with him in the back while she dried his sheets of notes until they were crisp and the ink, while blotchy, was readable. “By the way, you’re doing a horrible job at trying to distract me from whatever’s bothering you. You know I’m not going to let up, right? I’ve got all night.”
Adam knew she actually only had until 9. She was responsible for closing up and then her mother was bound to show and pick her up. She crossed her arms in persistent demand.
He waved his hand in a vague gesture before scribbling underneath his notes. He wasn’t all too enthusiastic on discussing his horrible date with Tad Carruthers, deciding on omitting his entire outing from conversation.
Blue plucked the pencil out of his hand, placing in beside her. Adam could’ve easily reached across and grabbed it again but the sentiment was well received.
“I just - I went… out with someone today.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It, uh, didn’t end well.”
“What, why?” Blue immediately got defensive. Despite the fact that Adam was burrowing himself further in a terrible lie, he felt charmed at Blue’s fiery insistence, the way her knuckles curled over the table in a show of protective support. “Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”
Adam smiled wryly. “No. He’d probably wet himself before you’d have the chance anyways.”
Blue grinned smugly. Adam thought that was the end of it but her line of questioning did not let up. “Well, who was it? Was it someone from Aglionby?”
She asked the suggestion jokingly but at Adam’s slight hesitation, she shook her head in disbelief. “You masochist. What the hell were you doing on a date with a fucking Raven boy?”
Adam winced. “It wasn’t really a date.”
“Which soft fucker managed to get a date?” Blue continued as if Adam hadn’t spoken.
“I don’t really want to talk about it.” He really didn’t. If it wasn’t because it had gone horribly and Tad’s obnoxious comments had an awful amount of sting, it was merely embarrassing that it had been Tad Carruthers of all people in the first place. Blue would never let Adam live it down if she found out. “It’s not important.”
“Clearly it’s important enough to keep you all zoned out.” Blue crossed her arms, eyebrow flicking up. “Who was it.”
“No one.”
“Why can’t you talk to me about it?”
“Because," Adam said, somewhat frustrated. "He’s right over there.” He blurted impulsively.
“What?” Blue swiveled around, completely forgoing any act of indifference.
There was hardly anyone in the cafe so Blue easily zeroed in on the boys who were cornered near the back. “Them? The douchebags who hijacked our spot?” She turned back around. “Well which one was it?”
“The one with the leather jacket.” He divulged.
What the fuck was he doing? How was Ronan Lynch a more acceptable date than Tad Carruthers?
A strand of frantic curses flooded through Adam’s thoughts.
“What a fucking asshole.” Blue sneered. “He thinks he can be a dick to my best friend and then sit in our spot? I don’t think so.”
Realistically they wouldn’t have known that Adam and Blue usually sat there. Still, Blue stood up like she was on a mission. Adam’s hand hovered over her wrist. “What are you doing?”
“Giving that asshole a piece of my mind.” And then marched away.
“Blue. Wait.” Adam scrambled after her.
He wasn’t quite fast enough.
“Hey, Asshole!” Blue snapped. Both boys were jolted out of their conversation. Adam followed behind, his face burning.
Lynch’s face of surprise morphed into one of animosity as he quickly observed and dismissed Blue. His gaze met Adam’s and to Adam’s astonishment, he quickly averted his eyes, angrily declining into the press of the booth.
Richard Gansey looked shocked. He answered haltingly. “Uh… yes?”
“Not you.” Blue rolled her eyes. “You.” She pinned her glare wholeheartedly on Lynch, who barred his teeth just as fiercely. “What gives you the damn right to be a fucking dick to my best friend and then have the audacity to steal his seat.”
“I don’t see his fucking name on it.” Lynch spat. “And I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”
Gansey spluttered at Lynch’s response before looking curiously at Adam.
“I should have you thrown out.” Blue hissed.
“Now hold on just a moment.” Gansey said, lifting his arms in a placating gesture. “There seems to be a misunderstanding. I’m afraid you may have your anger directed at the wrong person.”
“No, I’m afraid your friend’s a giant dick-hole.”
Gansey winced. Adam felt himself mirror Gansey’s reaction. Ronan, on the other hand, seemed unperturbed.
“Why would you go on a date with him if you were just going to be an ass about it?” Blue continued heatedly. Her hip jutted out judgmentally, her hands clenched into tight fists.
“Maybe because I wanted the opportunity to be fucking interrogated about it by a midget from hell.” Ronan seethed.
Adam’s eyes widened. He suddenly felt disoriented at the fact that Lynch, who probably didn’t even know of Adam’s existence, was going along with this blatant lie despite the fact that it landed him an angry Blue Sargent.
“Hey now,” Gansey, looking between the pair in turbulent bewilderment, interrupted. “You’ve been dating?” Hurt coloured his features, his lips jutting out in what almost could’ve been deemed a pout. “I thought we were going to start being honest with one another.”
“Jesus,” Ronan hissed. “We’re not fucking married. I don’t need to tell you everything.”
Gansey frowned as he regarded Adam. He felt distinctly unimpressive and fought the urge to fidget with his fraying sweater or scrub the stains of dirt decorating his worn sneakers.
Gansey pressed a thumb against his lip in contemplation. “Have we met before?”
Adam was surprised that the Richard Gansey even faintly recognized him. They’d never spoken, Adam only watching him with poorly concealed jealousy as he bumped knuckles with other Aglionby boys, sporting the same essence of wealth and ease.
Adam shrugged. “No?”
“You go to Aglionby, correct? I’m sure I’ve seen you in class.”
“We have world history together.” Adam said. “And latin.”
Gansey had the audacity to look embarrassed but he ambled forward, flashing a princely smile that was all teeth. “Well, Ronan hasn’t seemed to mention you,” he threw Ronan a slightly disdainful look, “but I’m Gansey, his roommate. And you are?”
Gansey spoke with an earnestness that threw Adam off. “Uh, Adam Parrish.” He wiped his clammy hands on his pants, about to reach forward and offer him a handshake when recognition lit Gansey’s eyes up, his mouth curling into a more genuine smile.
“Oh, Adam Parrish.” Gansey looked to Lynch in woeful glee. “Ronan, I can't believe you didn’t tell me you’ve gone out with Adam Parrish. How exciting.” He turned back to Adam. “Yes, I’ve heard about you. Ronan’s been-”
“Dick, shut the fuck up.” Ronan rudely cut him off. His face was flushed an angry red, his lip curled in a vicious sneer and Adam stood in blank surprise.
“How long have you two been dating for?” Gansey was clearly addressing Adam.
He flailed for a moment before speaking, mouth dry. “It was just one date.”
“Yeah,” Blue chipped in, “because your friend was a fucking asshole.”
Gansey looked confused. “Ronan-”
“It’s fine.” Adam cut in hastily. This was his fault. He wasn’t going to let Blue unknowingly yell at Lynch when he’d done nothing wrong to Adam. “Lynch was… it was fine. I was the one who - I messed it all up.”
“You don't need to defend this guy.” Blue said, but her voice was severely lowered from where she’d been verging on shouting.
“I’m not. It’s why I didn’t want to talk about it.”
Blue sighed. “Did I just yell at the wrong asshole?”
Adam was the asshole she should've been yelling at. He nodded apologetically.
“You weren’t a dick.” Lynch’s voice cut through sharply. “The date,” his voice was all strangled, “was good. Fine.”
“There seems to be somewhat of a misunderstanding here. Perhaps we should give these two a moment.” Gansey grinned knowingly.
It was an expression that didn’t match him at all.
Gansey stood, Ronan standing shortly after. Gansey nodded in Blue’s direction, politely requesting her company. Adam watched as he disappeared towards the mouth of the entrance, Blue reluctantly following, shouldering Adam a heavy glance before leaving.
And then there were two.
They stood in relatively uncomfortable silence before Adam spoke.
“You know you didn’t need to play along.” He muttered.
“And miss out on watching that waitress go catatonic? Fuck, Dick looked like he was about to wet himself.” Ronan’s lip curled in amusement.
“You’re kind’ve a complete asshole.” Adam mused.
“So I’ve been told.” Ronan shrugged. “I’ve also been referred to as a ‘giant dick-hole’ so take your pick.”
The corners of Adam’s lips flicked up. “I’m-”
“If you’re about to apologize, leave it. You just saved me from another boring conversation about my future.” Ronan emphasized the latter half of his sentence with quotations, voice blatantly painted in mockery.
A shred of irritation welled inside Adam’s stomach. All he had was the scattered remains of an out-of-reach, vaguely plausible future. It’s what he thrived on, what kept him going. He didn’t have the privileged opportunity to ignore it, to shove it aside as if it didn’t matter.
“Sounds real damn rough.”
Ronan rolled his eyes. “Are you going to tell me why your girlfriend started attacking me?”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Adam said, defensively.
“I know.” Ronan grinned mischievously. “We just went on a date. And if she was, she’d be doing a shit job at it considering she might have a hard-on for obnoxiously coloured polo shirts.”
Ronan gestured over behind Adam. He turned and watched as Gansey and Blue seemed to be having a civil conversation near the front entrance. Blue was speaking, Adam was unsure of what, but Gansey listened with enthusiastic vigor, interrupting with occasional comments that spurred surprised laughter from Blue. He couldn’t hear them whatsoever, but Blue had a certain look of glee, her eyebrows bunching together, nose crinkling whenever she laughed. Adam’s eyebrows hitched upwards in naked astonishment.
“Christ.” Adam whispered.
“Disgusting, right?”
Adam narrowed his eyes on Blue's behalf.
“He must have a death wish.” Ronan continued.
“Oh, fuck off. He’d be lucky to date Blue.”
“Speaking from experience, Parrish?”
“I just know a good heart when I see one and Blue more than qualifies.”
“And how did I do? On this dumbass scale of yours?” Ronan refused to catch Adam’s eye, instead he stared resolutely forwards.
“Your heart still hasn’t grown three sizes yet Lynch.”
“Ha fucking ha.”
“Thanks,” Adam said, after a moment of them standing side by side, turned away from the spectacle that was Blue and Gansey. “For not throwing me under the bus.”
Ronan waved him off. “It’s whatever.”
“It’s not whatever. You don’t even know me.”
“Sure I do. You’re the fucking dick that’s threatening my top position in latin class.”
Adam grinned. He knocked Ronan’s shoulder with his own. “Try to keep up, Lynch.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
Adam snickered and his eyes inadvertently flicked over his abandoned table where his homework was laid out, opened and untouched. He checked his watch. It was nearing 8 and he still had shit to do before his shift at 10. He heaved a grand sigh.
“I should probably-” Adam looked pointedly at where his homework was, Ronan following his gaze.
“Sure, whatever.” Ronan gruffly nodded.
Strangely enough, Adam felt himself wanting to stay with Lynch, talking about nothing, listening to him tease Blue and Gansey, knocking their shoulders together. He couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t. He let himself want it anyways.
Ronan slouched back in his seat, harshly fiddling with a ruined napkin, tearing it to shreds. Adam knew this was the moment when he should take his leave.
Fuck it.
“Maybe, we should go on a date.” Adam swallowed thickly. “You know, to see if it would live up to the expectations of failing spectacularly.”
Ronan looked startled. Adam noticed the miserable hope that seeped into his eyes, the way his mouth curled up in the beginning of a genuine smile rather than the devilish smirk he’d been sporting during Blue’s tirade.
“Well, shit, if your standards are already so low, what the fuck do I have to lose?”
Adam’s schedule mapped out in his head.
“Friday night.” He said. “I’m free Friday night.”
Ronan’s response was a ferocious grin.
“What the hell are we doing here?”
Ronan had picked Adam up after he’d rushed home following a shift at the factory. Adam wasn’t sure where Ronan was planning to take them but he recognized the route Ronan took until they found themselves parked outside of the cafe they’d first met 3 days ago.
In the last 3 days, Ronan had started to become a fixed nuisance in Adam’s world. Gansey and Ronan had sat next to Adam in the classes they shared, the latter grinning crookedly while the former smiled earnestly. Ronan often chucked crumbled pieces of ruined paper against Adam's shoulder and Gansey gestured wildly at Adam to join their table at lunch. He often found himself hassled in the hallways by the pair, carefully transforming the duo into a trio and Adam let himself be magnetically pulled into their friendship. He felt in awe to be accepted, wanted, without question.
“I figured here was a good a place as any. It has nostalgic value.”
Adam snorted. “Right.”
Thankfully, Blue had every second Friday off, which their date happened to land on, and Ronan followed as Adam lead them to his favourite booth. They ordered coffee, Ronan purchased a bundle of pastries, which Adam begrudgingly ate after Ronan dramatically warned him of wasting them.
They sat across from one another and while they talked, and teased, they knocked feet underneath the table, the heat of Ronan’s calf brushing Adam’s.
And under the cool breeze of the shuddering moonlight, in the near empty parking, they kissed pressed against Ronan’s car, tasting of tarts.