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1) Tad Carruthers walked down the Aglionby hallway like the king he was, strutting proudly in his wrinkle-free sweater and expensive shoes. His hair had fallen perfectly today, and he’d received compliments from guys and girls alike on his new cologne. Some sophomore in his chemistry class had even had the audacity to ask him out this morning. Tad planned to text him for a week or two, maybe get a free dinner and a hook up out of him, and then let him go. He was after a bigger, better goal than some overconfident underclassman.
In reality, Tad Carruthers walked down the Aglionby hallway like the king he thought he was. His sweater was wrinkle free, thanks to his mother, and his shoes were expensive, thanks to his father, and he had maybe gotten one or two compliments on his cologne. But there was only one king at Aglionby, and he was currently standing near his locker with two members of his royal court.
The blond one just so happened to be Tad’s bigger, better goal.
“Parrish!” Tad exclaimed grandly, brushing past Dick Gansey in a not-so-polite way. “I hear you’re acing chem. We should help each other out - if you help me pass chem, I can let you in on the secret to getting an A in Whelk’s Latin class.”
Parrish looked stricken. Tad liked catching him off guard. His pale eyes got wide and a satisfying blush appeared behind his freckles. Tad, like a pro, raised one arm to lean against the lockers, ignoring the huff of protest from Dick as he blocked him.
“Um…” Parrish started. The locker at his back slammed shut with a force that ricocheted down the row and into Tad’s elbow. Lynch appeared like a towering storm cloud over Parrish’s shoulder. Tad had once contemplated making a move on Lynch, but he quickly learned that the snake wasn’t a part of the game.
Though he stood with rigid shoulders and a menacing glare, Lynch surprisingly kept quiet.
“So?” Tad asked, keeping his suave gaze trained on Parrish.
“I… I’m doing fine in Latin,” Parrish answered. Though not the response he wanted, it was a response Tad was prepared for. Parrish always played hard to get.
“Is ‘fine’ going to get you into an Ivy League?” he questioned.
“I study with Ronan,” Adam answered quickly.
This grated Tad’s nerves, but he schooled his face before the annoyance showed. He leaned in a few inches closer. “I’ve heard I have a nice accent when I speak Latin. I could practice it on you.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Lynch growled. Tad shot him a glare. When he focused back on Parrish he was pleased to see an even deeper blush on his cheeks.
“I think I’m good,” he sputtered. “I’ve got class.” He hefted his backpack off the ground and ducked out of Tad’s space. Dick Gansey III followed him quickly. Lynch took another moment to stare Tad into oblivion. Then he stalked off after the others.
All in all, Tad considered it a successful interaction.
2) Tad Carruthers walked down the Main Street sidewalk like the hottie he was. He showed off his tan, muscular shoulders with his pricey tank top and flashed his freshly bleached smile at every guy he passed. They all smiled back. When waiting at a crosswalk with his pushy-shovy-noisy friends, he lowered his Ray Bans at the hunk across the street. The guy studied him back. When the stoplight changed and they crossed paths, the hunk gave him a pointed stare. Tad smiled slyly to himself. He’d have to use the Ray Ban trick the next time he saw Parrish.
In reality, Tad Carruthers walked down the Main Street sidewalk like the decent-looking guy he was. His tank top was pricey, thanks to his dad, and his shoulders were tan and muscular, thanks to a paid gym membership, and one guy he passed smiled back. The hunk in the crosswalk did give him a pointed look - out of confusion. But Tad wasn’t the hottest guy on the sidewalk; the actual hottest guy stood in front of a pet store one block down, sweat beading on his forehead and his pale Irish skin slowly burning in the June sun.
Lynch had gone out in public without Gansey for once. And oh ho, look who he was with.
“Parrish!” Tad called as his group came upon the other two. “Fancy meeting you here. Are you buying a dog or a cat? I recommend the name ‘Tad’ for whatever you choose.”
Parrish didn’t balk this time, but Tad wasn’t missing out; Parrish was more tan than he was, and his blond hair shone pleasantly in the Virginia summer sun. His red t-shirt hugged his own set of thin but shapely shoulders, though the fading of the Coca-Cola logo revealed its over use. Tad didn’t care that Parrish came from dirt, so long as his dad didn’t find out.
“No,” Parrish responded. “Ronan has a pet bird.” Just then a large black bird swooped dangerously close to Tad’s face and alighted itself on Lynch’s exposed shoulder. It had a dog toy in its beak. With its beady eyes it gave Tad the same unwelcoming glare he so often received from its owner.
Lynch seemed pleased by his bird’s entrance, but again didn’t say a word.
“How ‘bout it though? Cats or dogs?” Tad asked, shifting his position to be closer to Parrish while ignoring Lynch.
“I prefer ravens, actually,” Parrish answered flatly.
“And ghosts,” Lynch added, grinning sharply.
“What the fuck?” Tad said. Lynch and Parrish snickered, and Tad whipped around to see which one of his own friends was laughing. They all gave him curious looks - he could’ve sworn he heard a third person chuckling.
“See you around, Tad,” Parrish said as he and Lynch and Lynch’s creepy bird walked away. He watched them leave, noted the look of Ronan’s tank top compared to his own, and wondered if Parrish really did have a thing for ghosts.
He hadn’t even gotten the chance to lower his Ray Bans.
3) Tad Carruthers was walking across the Aglionby parking lot like the rich white boy he was. He had a new backpack slung over his shoulders, a new pair of Ray Bans perched on his nose, and the keys to his new shiny car in his hand. People called out to him with waving hands and reverential smiles. The kid who asked him out last year also smiled at him; he’d grown two inches and sported extra confidence now. Maybe Tad would hit him up this weekend if he felt lonely. That was unlikely though; it was the first week back to school, a dozen parties were planned for this Friday, and he’d overheard Parrish talking about one that would be held at some place called Monmouth.
In reality, Tad Carruthers was walking across the Aglionby parking lot like the spoiled rich white boy he was. He had a new backpack slung over his shoulder, thanks to his mom, and a new pair of Ray Bans, thanks to his aunt, and the keys to his new shiny car, thanks to his dad. A few of his friends waved at him as they headed to their own shiny cars. The now-two-inches-taller junior got into the car with a now-three-inches-taller sophomore. And up ahead, looking as pretty and uncomfortable in his own skin as ever, was the poorest white boy at Aglionby.
“Parrish!” Tad yelled from his parking spot. “New set of wheels? I knew you liked putting cars together but man, that thing’s a jigsaw if I’ve ever seen one.”
Tad let his hand run over the smooth hood of his own car and watched Parrish’s eyes trail over the gleaming paint job and vanity license plate. Tad noted that if he ever brought Parrish to one of his family events he’d have to drive him; his father wouldn’t want Parrish’s piece of automotive junk anywhere near their house.
Without responding, Parrish opened the driver’s side door and got in. The slamming of the door jarred Tad’s spine. For the first time he questioned if he had offended Parrish. But Parrish didn’t leave, or even turn the car on. He stared out his window, purposefully not looking at Tad. Tad let a coy smile play on his face as he wondered how long it would take for Parrish to get back out and talk to him. But then Lynch was there, throwing open the passenger door of Parrish’s car and careening into the empty seat. He stared at Parrish for a moment, said something, and then Parrish’s eyes rolled towards Tad for a brief moment.
Lynch’s eyes landed on him so violently Tad could feel the stab wound.
As quickly as he could without seeming like he was running away, Tad got into his own car and started the ignition. He sat there a moment, processing the sight of that tiny shitbox, Parrish’s melancholy expression, and the wound in his conscience that was bleeding onto his luxury leather seats.
By the time he checked his rearview mirror, Parrish and Lynch and Parrish’s new car were gone.
4) Tad Carruthers was walking across the Aglionby quad like the stylish, outdoorsy guy he was. He was wearing a new black pea coat over his Aglionby uniform and a warm beige scarf expertly looped around his neck. His cheeks were a charming shade of pink, colored by the late November wind, and he perfectly fit the aesthetic of the campus in late autumn. He was one of the only guys at Aglionby who liked the outdoors enough to not walk through the buildings to get to his next class, and he knew how unique it made him look.
In reality, Tad Carruthers was walking across the Aglionby quad freezing his ass off. He was wearing a new black pea coat designed for style instead of warmth, and his expertly looped warm beige scarf was itching the back of his neck. His cheeks felt windburned, and he tried to remember if Virginia in November was supposed to be this cold. But he wanted to make himself look outdoorsy, because the only three other people out on the quad always seemed to want to be by trees, and Tad had a need to impress one of them.
“Parrish!” Tad called as he neared the picnic table at which he, Lynch, and Richard Gansey sat. He hesitated as he came close; the three of them missed class most of last week, and Tad didn’t want to catch whatever illness they’d gotten. Gansey, he decided, we still recovering, for he looked up at Tad slowly, and his eyes seemed to be far off. Lynch was probably hit the hardest - the bags under his eyes could have been turned into a new paint pallet. Parrish actually looked well rested for the first time in his life, but he had missed two days of school, which is two days more than he’d ever missed before.
“Tad,” Parrish said, nodding at him. He didn’t seem hostile. In fact, even though they all looked like they’d had the flu, none of them seemed upset to see him. Except for Lynch, of course, but even his bite was dulled.
“I heard you guys got the plague and missed a shit ton of school.” He sat himself down next to Parrish. “I’m actually caught up on all the homework for biology if you want some help, Parrish. I think it’s about time you took me up on one of my study dates.”
Lynch, who was sitting across from Parrish and next to Gansey, scowled darkly. Ah, there he is, Tad thought.
“Thanks Tad, but Cheng gave me the assignments. I’m all caught up.” Parrish said it with a polite confidence that Tad had never seen in him before. He studied his face for a moment, trying to figure out what had changed.
“Take a picture, jackass, it would last longer,” Lynch growled. Tad blinked, and Parrish raised his eyebrows. Tad felt warmth spread up his neck, and it wasn’t thanks to the scarf.
“The passing period is almost over, Tad,” Gansey said. “You should get to class,” and his voice was such a Richard Gansey voice that Tad couldn’t do anything but stand up and turn towards Borden House.
“Ah, well,” he said, trying to save himself. “That plague… glad you guys didn’t die.”
Parrish gave him a small, mysterious smile. Lynch’s fists tightened on the table. And Gansey looked up at him with a gaze so ancient Tad wondered if he was really only eighteen.
“We’re glad, too, Tad.”
5) Tad Carruthers walked into the party like the newly graduated Aglionby student he was. He had a mixer in his hand, weight off of his shoulders, and three months of freedom ahead of him. His chest was filled with the bass pumping from a set of speakers against the wall, and his nose was filled with the scent of alcohol and sweat. He wove his way through the crowd like a pro, dodging dancing bodies and drunken bodies and bodies calling out to him. He didn’t bother calling back; there was only one person he wanted saying his name tonight.
In reality, Tad Carruthers walked into the party like the newly graduated student everyone was. He had some sort of pregame drink in his hand, no homework to think of, and an entire summer to be reckless before going off to whatever college his dad got him admitted to. The speakers made the house shake, but no cops would be coming here tonight. This was a party for the children of Henrietta’s - and all of Virginia’s - most powerful families, and nothing could stop them now. He pushed through the crowd, searching for a head of dusty blond hair and a face of freckles, but made it all the way to the slightly less crowded kitchen without any luck.
“Have you seen Parrish?” he asked the guy pouring jungle juice into the cups of eager hands. The guy jutted his thumb towards the back door. Tad swiped a cup of juice before heading outside into the cooler air.
There was a small gathering on the deck. It looked like most of the Vancouver crowd, plus Richard Gansey, Lynch, and some short chick with her arm around Gansey’s waist. They were standing by a table of desserts, the leftovers from a more formal party held at this house earlier today. Tad’s tipsy stomach twisted when he saw Parrish, his golden face haloed by the lights strung up in a tree.
“Tad Carruthers!” someone from the Vancouver crowd shouted. He thought the guy’s name was Henry Cheng. All heads swiveled towards him, including Parrish’s. Tad stepped out of the doorway as if in a spotlight.
“Why are you hiding out here? The good stuff’s inside,” he said, raising his glass of mystery liquid. They responded with 'too hot' and 'too noisy' and 'needed air,' even though Tad had really only meant to ask Parrish.
“I don’t drink,” he responded, calm and sober and so fucking hot. Tad stepped closer and gave Parrish a suggestive once over. A few of the Vancouver boys murmured. Had Tad’s blood alcohol level not already been high, he would’ve waited to speak to Parrish alone. But his inhibitions had already been freed by liquid luck, so with a whole audience he looked Parrish dead in the eye and spoke.
“If you don’t want what’s in the kitchen, I can take you to one of the bedrooms upstairs and show you something more appealing.”
For a brief moment, the crickets were the loudest thing in the backyard. Then one of the international students whispered “wait, I thought Adam was with the tattoo man?”
Tad’s slow brain took a full moment to process what the guy said. Then his wide eyes trailed down to where Parrish’s hand was clasped tightly in Lynch’s.
“I thought you knew by now,” Parrish said, his expression trying to be apologetic but failing. Tad blinked rapidly and shook his head. “Oh. Well, yeah, Ronan and I are together. Have been for a while now, actually.”
As Tad stood there drunk and mortified, Lynch wrapped an arm around Parrish’s waist and leaned his head over his shoulder. His mouth was twisted wickedly, but his eyes shone with more joy than Tad knew was possible for him.
“Stop trying to fuck my boyfriend, Carruthers,” he said. Then he proceeded to placed sloppy kisses up Parrish’s neck.
As Tad scrambled to get back in the house, Blue slapped Ronan’s arm. “Is that a necessary thing to do in public?” she asked.
“Yes,” Ronan said between kisses. Adam laughed and gently pushed him away, but he kept their hands entwined together.
“I think we scarred him for life,” Adam said. Ronan rolled his eyes.
“He won’t remember it in the morning,” he said as he pulled Adam close to his side.
“Besides,” Gansey said, “there’s a junior that’s had the hots for him for two years. You’re finally giving him a chance.”
They all laughed, and together they left the party to go celebrate their own way.