Chapter Text
It’s a well-known fact, or rather an indisputable law, that the Los Feliz High Phantoms and the Belmont High Tigers do not mix. If Alex were to so much as suggest something involving the Tigers that didn’t involve toilet paper and varying degrees of legality, Luke would no doubt throw a temper tantrum.
It started in freshman year, when the Tigers defaced Los Feliz’s school entrance with used jockstraps and shaving cream. Then, the Phantoms had taken it up a notch by covering their mascot statue in pink and blue paint. Ever since then, an ugly rivalry has stewed and festered, growing and growing until it quickly got out of hand.
It’s been this way from the moment Alex had laced up his cleats and stepped onto the soccer field; there’s no soccer without rivalry . Hating the Tigers is so natural and automatic that Alex can’t imagine thinking differently.
“Hey, Reggie, catch!”
Alex pokes his head through the neckhole of his jersey just in time to see Luke hurling a balled up piece of paper in Reggie’s direction. Reggie looks up from his conversation with Bobby, but not quick enough. The paper hits him square on the forehead before bouncing onto the floor.
“Hey!” Reggie protests, picking up the crumpled-up ball and throwing it back at Luke who catches it with a cheeky grin.
“For a goalie, you’ve got shit coordination,” Luke says playfully, tossing the paper into his locker before slamming it shut. Alex can’t help but chuckle at the gently affronted pout on Reggie’s face.
“Quit messing around,” Bobby says, walking over and giving Luke a smack in the face with his sweat towel. “Practice started like four minutes ago, Flynn’s gonna kill us.”
“I’ve been ready, man,” Luke says, standing up and bouncing up and down a few times for good measure. “Just waitin’ on Alex.”
“I keep telling you guys, you don’t have to wait for me,” Alex says, slipping his shin guard into his sock and closing his locker with his elbow. He can feel the guilt beginning to settle in, but it’s quickly dispelled when Reggie slings an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close.
“And we keep telling you that we like waiting!” Reggie says, “Let’s go.”
The four of them walk out of the locker room together and run onto the field. The moment they get outside, Alex takes a deep breath, savouring crisp air and the scent of fresh, dewy grass. It’s been his favourite smell since he was five years old, chasing after a soccer ball that was basically half his size.
The rest of the team is already warming up by the time Alex, Bobby, Luke, and Reggie join them, Flynn leading them in a round of high-kicks.
“Nice of you to turn up, boys!” she says, raising her eyebrows at them. She’s barely even panting as her feet move under her in double time. “We thought you might never make it.”
“Warm-ups barely started!” Luke protests, but he still falls into line, kicking his knees up in time with everyone else.
“Thank you for that observation, Luke,” Flynn says, eyes sparkling with mirth as she tilts her head at the four of them. “For that, you get to do ten extra push-ups!”
Luke wrinkles his nose at her. “Psh,” he scoffs, even though Alex can see the playful grin on his face. “You just want an excuse to ogle.”
“Trust me, pretty boy," Flynn says, voice dripping with sarcasm as she looks across the field at where Carrie is demonstrating a new cheer to the other cheerleaders, “if I wanted to ogle someone, I wouldn’t be looking in your direction.”
The team titters as Flynn transitions into box-runs. Alex and Luke quickly fall into step together, but Alex can tell that Luke’s focus is elsewhere. He smirks when he sees Luke looking in Julie’s direction. She and Flynn are jogging together, a bright grin on Julie’s face as Flynn tells her a story, all emphatic gestures and wide eyes.
“Doesn’t Julie look cute in her uniform?” Luke asks, nudging Alex with his elbow.
Alex rolls his eyes but smiles anyway. Luke’s crush is so obvious, it’s kind of adorable. “She looks just as cute as I do considering all our uniforms are the same,” he replies dryly, sprinting a few feet ahead of Luke when he goes for a shove. “Why haven’t you asked her out yet?”
Luke shrugs, staring straight ahead as they round a corner. “I don’t know,” he says softly. “We’ve been friends for so long. I’m worried it might make things weird.”
“But you’ve liked her for just as long,” Alex says, and it’s true. Luke’s had a thing for Julie since they were old enough to comprehend what a crush was. “We’re graduating this year. Might as well take the plunge, you know?”
“I… I don’t know. Look, I don’t wanna talk about it right now, okay?” Luke replies before jogging ahead and catching up with Flynn and Julie.
Alex watches carefully, taking note of the way Luke’s face lights up as soon as Julie turns to look at him - and smiling at the way she beams right back at him. God, they really are clueless. He speeds up and joins them, sidling up beside Flynn as the four of them jog together. “Hey,” he says, trying to make his panting breaths more subtle. “Sorry we were late.”
Flynn shrugs. Alex can tell she was never really mad at them. “It’s fine. You know I just like to give you guys a hard time,” she replies, giving him a wink. “I can’t have the others thinking I pick favourites.”
“Mhm,” Alex hums. “You totally do, though.”
“That’s beside the point.”
“Flynn and I were talking about staying back after practice,” Julie says, capturing Alex’s attention. “We wanna start planning the end-of-season party!”
Alex frowns. “I can’t. I’ve got my first shift at work today.”
“Oh, right, you got a job at that coffee shop, right?” Julie asks. They all come to a stop where their lap started and flexes her foot out in front of her, stretching out her calf. “What’s it called again?”
“The Big Spoon,” Alex replies, hugging his knee to his chest and nodding at Reggie and Bobby as they approach. “It’s kind of a dumb name but they were the only place that got back to me.”
“What are we talking about?” Bobby asks, resting his forearm on Luke’s shoulder and flicking his hair out of his face.
“Julie and Flynn were talking about hanging back after practice to talk about the end-of-season party,” Luke says.
“Oh, count us in!” Reggie says, turning to Alex. “Maybe we can visit you at work after!”
“Please don’t,” Alex says, unable to hold back a surprised laugh when Reggie tackles him, jumping on his back and rubbing the crown of his head with his knuckles. There are few feelings Alex cherishes more than this; being surrounded by his friends on a wide soccer field as they laugh and joke together.
Practice goes quickly and soon enough, Alex is wiping the sweat off of his forehead with the hem of his shirt while their coach gives them a rundown of their game schedule. His heart is pounding in his chest from exertion, his hair hanging stringy and damp in front of his eyes.
“Okay, everyone, we’ve got a couple games coming up. It’ll be great practice before the playoffs in March.” At the mention of the playoffs, the entire team erupts into a series of excited, if slightly breathless, cheers. Coach Chang humours them for a moment before gesturing for them to quiet down. “Wednesday night, we’ve got a home game against the Granada Hills Highlanders, and next Thursday we’re heading over to Glendale High to play against the Nitros. Got it?”
A chorus of panting affirmatives arises from the team and Alex’s ears perk up when Flynn leans towards him.
“We’ve got both these games in the bag,” she says. “Carrie told me that the Highlanders haven’t won a single game ever since their coach got replaced.”
Alex raises his eyebrows at her. “Why does Carrie know so much about the Highlanders?”
Flynn shrugs, her eyes wandering towards where Carrie is sitting on the grass with Kayla, both of them in splits that make Alex’s bones ache just looking at them. “Cheerleader connections, I guess.”
After a few more announcements, Coach Chang dismisses them, picking on a few underclassmen and telling them to pack up the equipment. As the rest of the team disperses and heads to the changing rooms, the six of them lag behind. Alex sees Carrie wave goodbye to Kayla before running over to join them as they all sit down on the grass.
“Hey, guys,” she says, ponytail swinging behind her. Even after two hours of stunts and lifts and cheering, she looks as though she’s barely even broken a sweat. “How was practice?”
“Good,” Flynn says, grinning when Carrie sits down next to her and kisses her cheek. “We’re gonna talk party stuff.”
“Ohh, fun!” Carrie replies, tangling her and Flynn’s legs together.
“They’re talking party stuff,” Alex says, standing up. “I’ve gotta change and head to work or I’ll be late.”
“We’ll see you later, Alex,” Julie replies, shooting him a wave. The smile on her face is almost entirely mischief. “I think I’m in the mood for a latte.”
“Oh, me too,” Bobby says with a smirk, reaching out to lightly kick Alex’s shin.
“I swear you guys are gonna get me fired,” Alex murmurs, though there’s no actual frustration in his voice. “Update me later.”
With that, he jogs away toward the locker room and gets changed in double time, his heart and head filled with nothing but affection from another good day of practice.
“Okay, Alex,” Eric says, stepping to the side and resting his hip against the counter, “you’re doing pretty well for your first day. How do you feel?”
Alex shrugs, adjusting the strap of his apron. “Pretty good… I think,” he says, staring down at the computer screen. The bell attached to the doorway rings but he doesn’t look up, distracted by the configuration of buttons on the screen in front of him.
“Let’s see if you can take this next customer on your own,” Eric says, nodding in the direction of the entrance. “I’ll make the drink, you just take their order, okay?”
The nerves begin to rise in Alex’s chest but he forces them down, fixing a stiff smile onto his face before looking up from the computer. The second he locks eyes with the customer in front of him, all memories of protocol and customer service leave Alex’s brain in a rush of cool wind; because in the multitudes of customers he’s seen today, none of them have managed to make quite the same impression on him.
“Hi,” Alex says, his tongue suddenly feeling dry in his mouth. He pauses for a moment too long before launching into the next part of his script. Thankfully, the customer doesn’t seem to notice how badly Alex is suffering. “How are you?”
“Good,” the boy says, a smile teasing at the corners of his lips and making his cheekbones lift. He doesn’t look much older than Alex is, with his brown hair falling in soft waves around his face. “Is it your first day?”
Alex quirks an eyebrow, drumming his fingers softly against the counter as he searches the boy’s face for any signs of ridicule. He smiles when he doesn’t find any. “Yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Is it that obvious?”
“Totally.” The customer laughs and Alex thinks it might be his new favourite sound, bright and joyful and light. “But don’t worry, you’re doing great so far.”
“Thanks,” Alex replies, chuckling because the grin on the boy’s face makes him giddy somehow. “What can I get for you?”
The boy hums for a moment, tilting his head from side to side. He’s playing with Alex and Alex knows it - but for some reason he isn’t irritated. In fact, he wants to play along. “What would you recommend?” he asks with a smirk.
A warmth grows up the back of his neck as Alex twists to glance at the menu. “Um… I don’t know what kinda guy you are, but I personally like iced mochas,” Alex says, turning back around to look at the customer.
“I’ll do one of those then. Large, please,” he says, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and fishing out a $10 bill.
Alex nods and plugs his order into the computer with hands that are only slightly shaky, reaching for a plastic cup and his sharpie. It’s not part of his script and Alex isn’t exactly sure why he does it, but before he can control himself he finds himself asking: “Can I get a name for your order?”
The man raises his eyebrows just a smidge but his smile only grows. “Willie.”
Willie.
Alex scrawls the name on the cup and takes a moment to look at it before adding a small smiley face beside it. He places the cup on the counter, ignoring his coworkers pointed look, before taking the $10 bill. Their fingers don’t brush which is disappointing but Alex forces himself to stop thinking about it as he gets Willie’s change out of the cash register.
“Here’s your change,” Alex says, dropping a few bills and coins into Willie’s outstretched palm. “Your drink will be ready at the bar.”
Willie holds Alex’s eye for a moment longer before dropping all of the change into the little tip jar on the counter, smirk ever present. “Thanks” --his eyes flicker downward for a moment to Alex’s apron before looking back up-- “Alex.” And then he walks away, leaving Alex’s heart beating significantly faster than before he’d come in.
Alex hears Eric whistle beside him as he pulls two shots of espresso. A flush rests high on Alex’s cheeks when he sees the amused smile on his face. “On my first day, I got yelled at by a mom of six who thought I made her iced latte too cold,” he says. “On your first day, you got to flirt with Mr. Cheekbones over there. Nice job.”
“I-I wasn’t--”
Before Alex can finish his protest, the door chimes again and his back automatically straightens. He turns to look at the door and smiles tiredly when he sees six very familiar faces.
“Hi Alex!” Julie says brightly, leading the charge and walking right up to the counter. “How’s work so far?”
The image of Willie’s smile flashes through Alex’s head briefly. “Good,” he says, twirling his sharpie between his fingers. “How was party planning?”
“Great,” Flynn says. She’s shuffling and fiddling with her braids in a way that Alex knows all too well. She wants something. “We actually wanted to ask you something.”
“Oh?” He asks. “What’s up?”
“You know how we usually have the end-of-season party at Bobby and Carrie’s?” Flynn asks.
Alex narrows his eyes. “Yeeaah,” he says, drawing out the vowel.
“Dad says we can’t have any more parties,” Carrie says, shooting Luke a sharp glare. “Not after Luke tried to do a backflip on the roof and fell right through into the master bedroom.”
“That was a cool move and you know it,” Luke protests, a pleased grin on his face. “How was I supposed to know your roof wasn’t structurally sound?”
Carrie rolls her eyes, her furrowed eyebrows gently relaxing when Flynn wraps her arm around her waist. “Anyway, now Bobby and I are banned from having people over until we’ve ‘learnt our lesson’ or something.”
“You had Flynn over yesterday,” Bobby retaliates. The two of them glare at each other for a moment, looking so similar despite not being genetically related that it’s jarring.
“Flynn isn’t people,” Carrie says back, looking about ready to drop everything to defend her girlfriend’s honour. Alex clears his throat before either of them have the chance to launch into a patented Wilson Sibling Screaming Match.
“Guys!” he says, wincing at the sharpness of his own voice. “Is there a point to this?”
“We were gonna ask if we could possibly have the party at yours instead,” Reggie says. “It’s not ‘til March and we know your parents usually go on their wedding anniversary trip then, so… your house’ll be empty aside from you and Alice, right?”
Alex hesitates, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. He’s about to respond when he looks toward the corner of the cafe, just over Julie’s shoulder where Willie is sitting. Almost like he can read his mind, Willie looks up at the same time and they lock eyes. The small wave that he throws in Alex’s direction is enough to set his cheeks ablaze.
“Alex? Are you okay?” Julie asks. Her eyebrows are furrowed in concern as she leans over the table to get a closer look at him.
“Yeah, dude, your face is all red. Did you eat something shellfish-y by accident?” Reggie‘s face drops. “Do you need your epipen?”
That’s enough to bring Alex’s attention right back. His head snaps away from Willie, looking at Reggie’s concerned expression. “What? No!”
“Then what are you looking at?”
Alex falls quiet, clamping his lips shut. His eyes flicker towards Willie’s direction quickly but he’s looking away now, eyes quickly scouring the pages of the book in his lap. Unfortunately, his look isn’t quick enough to bypass Julie’s notice.
Julie whips around then, looking right at Willie. Even with her head turned, Alex sees the way her grin begins to grow. She turns back around, eyes bright with excitement. “Who’s that?” she asks. “He’s cute!”
“No one!” Alex replies quickly, trying to keep his voice down. The cafe isn’t that big and the last thing he needs is Willie, a total stranger essentially, overhearing Alex talking about him. “He’s just… a customer.”
His reply falls on deaf ears as all of his friends turn to stare at Willie too. Reggie lets out a low whistle that makes the tips of Alex’s ears burn.
“Jules is right, he is cute,” Carrie says. “Did you ask for his number?”
“No, are you insane?” Alex asks, distracting himself by tapping the end of his sharpie on the counter rhythmically. “He’s… it’s nothing. He’s just a cute guy. When he came in, I was stunned for a second, but it’s fine.”
Flynn hums, squinting at Willie. “He looks kinda familiar, but I don’t know why.”
Alex shrugs. “Maybe he’s just got a recognizable face.” He pauses for a moment, trying to recall what they were talking about. The party. Alex’s house. Right. “Anyway, I… I don’t know about having the party at mine. Can I think about it?”
“Sure thing, bro,” Luke says, “no pressure. If we can’t have it at yours, we’ll figure something else out.”
“Okay. Thanks,” Alex says with a soft smile. “Now are any of you gonna order anything or are you gonna loiter? ‘Cause that’s illegal, I think.”
They all place their orders and pay in rapid succession. Alex gives Luke an incredulous when he leaves him a 0.5% tip. “Really?” he asks, trying to tamp down his amused smirk.
Luke sends him an over-exaggerated wink. “Buy yourself somethin’ pretty,” he says, every bit as obnoxious as he was when they were 8 years old, high on apple juice and youth.
Alex rolls his eyes and moves towards the bar to help Eric make their orders, though he can’t help but feel distracted the entire time. He knows the interaction probably meant nothing to Willie, but the fact that he was right there, just a counter and a few tables away, was more than a little bit intimidating.
Shortly after they all receive their drinks and say goodbye to Alex, there’s a short rush of customers. By the end of it, Alex can feel sweat prickling along the back of his neck as more and more people file in. In between orders, he looks up and finds himself staring directly into a pair of dark brown irises. Willie’s gaze on him does very little to remedy to heat rising up Alex’s back.
Once all the customers have taken their drinks and left, Alex slumps against the counter with his back to the store. He lets out a quiet breath. Beside him, Eric chuckles sympathetically.
“You did great, newbie,” he says, shaking a carton of oat milk. His eyes travel for a moment and he smirks. “Looks like someone wants your attention.”
Alex turns around, shoulders relaxing just a smidge when he sees Willie standing at the counter, a hardcover copy of Alice Isn’t Dead closed around his index finger to keep his place. He raises his eyebrows in quiet surprise; that’s one of Alex’s favourite books.
“Hey. Willie, right?” Alex asks, as if he’s forgotten (he very much hasn’t) .
“Yep,” Willie replies. The look in his eye tells Alex he’s seen right through him. “And you’re Alex.”
Alex decides he likes the way Willie says his name. Soft and deliberate; purposeful. “That’s me.”
“I… I never really do this, but here.” Willie hesitates before pulling a tattered bookmark out of his back pocket. On it is a phone number scrawled in blue ballpoint pen. He slides it towards Alex and smiles. Alex can barely believe what he’s hearing (and seeing, for that matter).
“Oh! This… thank you,” Alex says. As soon as he says it, he wishes he hadn’t; wishes he could stuff his words back into his mouth and stop embarrassing himself for one second. “I will definitely call you.”
Willie gives him a final smile and another little wave before walking out of the coffee shop, Alex following him with his eyes the entire time.
He looks down at the bookmark, calloused fingers gently tracing the edges of the last number. He smiles and folds the bookmark in half before slipping it into his pocket. Not bad for a first day at work.
By the time Alex gets home, it’s just past 8:30pm. The TV is on in the living room and the subtle smell of whatever his parents and sister had for dinner is still faintly lingering, making his stomach growl. He walks toward the kitchen and sees a plate made for him, covered in aluminium foil. He slides off the foil and chucks the plate into the microwave without looking at what’s on it, meandering into the living room while he waits for his food to heat up. He sees his mother curled up on the corner of the sofa, reading a book while his dad watches TV.
“Hey,” he says, walking over to the recliner where his little sister is playing a video game on her Switch. “How was dinner?”
“Good,” Alice says without looking up. “We had mac and cheese.”
“Sweet.” He doesn’t say anything else but he silently wills the microwave to go faster. Willie’s number is practically burning a hole in his pocket and it feels wrong to think about texting him in front of his parents.
“How was your gig last weekend?” Alice asks, pausing her game and finally looking up at him. She’s beginning to look so much like their mom, it’s a little bit weird.
Alex smiles. He hadn’t expected her to remember. “It was great. Luke nearly fell off the stage, but it was fun,” he replies. “Once you’re old enough to actually get into clubs, I’ll bring you along.” The smile she gives him in return is practically blinding.
Then, as if they suddenly notice his existence, Alex’s parents look up.
“Hey, sweetie,” his mom says, eyebrows raised. “How was school? Didn’t you have a math test this morning?”
Alex sighs, smile growing tight around the edges. “Mhm,” he hums. “Pretty sure I aced it.”
She nods, seemingly satisfied, and goes back to her book. Apparently his math test was where her interest ended.
“How was soccer practice?” his father asks next. “Sorry we had to miss your game last week. I heard from coach Chang that you guys lost, so… I guess there was really no reason for us to be there anyway.”
Alex clamps his lips shut. Push it down, push it down, push. It. Down.
“It’s fine,” he says, though his voice feels strange and stiff - like it isn’t his own. “Practice was… fine.”
“Good. Maybe we’ll get to see you actually win a game next time, huh?”
He’s joking. Or at least trying to. But the thing about Alex’s father is that his jokes aren’t ever just harmless jokes. They’re judgements and criticism, wrapped up in a chuckle and a forced-light tone. It’s one of the things that frustrates Alex the most about him.
“Yeah,” is all he manages to say. He hears the microwave beep quietly but he can’t bring himself to stand up just yet. He can feel Alice looking at him sympathetically but he doesn’t look back. Then, he remembers his conversation with the guys from earlier, vindictive cogs turning in his head. “Are you guys still planning on going to Hawaii for your anniversary?”
“Yes,” his mom says, pushing her glasses up until they’re nestled in her hair. “Why?”
Alex shrugs, picking at a rip in his jeans. “No reason. I just wanted to have some friends over to celebrate the end of soccer season.”
His mother nods again, giving him a smile that looks almost genuine. “Sure, sweetie. Just don’t go throwing any wild parties while we’re gone,” she says before looking back down at her book.
“Right. Definitely won’t do that.” Alex locks eyes with Alice for a moment and winks at her before walking out of the living room without another word. He grabs his plate from the microwave and stomps up the stairs to his room, shutting the door behind him with his foot.
Once he’s finally alone, he places the warm plate on his desk and fishes his phone out of his backpack, opening up his messages and sending a text to his group chat.
From Alex Mercer, To Fruit Salad (Yummy Yummy), 8:39pm:
party at mine is a go
From Alex Mercer, To Fruit Salad (Yummy Yummy), 8:39pm:
my parents will be in hawaii
From Reggie Peters, To Fruit Salad (Yummy Yummy), 8:39pm:
Y E A H ! ! ! ! !
From Flynn Carter, To Fruit Salad (Yummy Yummy), 8:40pm:
WOOOO THANK YOU ALEX 🧡🧡🧡
He smiles as he reads their replies and sits down on the edge of his bed. He feels something crinkle in his pocket and his body freezes, suddenly remembering. Willie’s number.
Alex pulls the paper bookmark out of his pocket and unfolds it, smoothing out the creases and reading over the ten digits again and again until his vision goes blurry. Soon enough, he’s typing the number into his phone with shaky fingers and a racing heart.
From Alex Mercer, To 213-368-0473, 8:43pm:
hey! is this willie?
From Alex Mercer, To 213-368-0473, 8:43pm:
it’s alex, from the big spoon. i was wondering if you’d like to hang out sometime.
As soon as he sends the messages, Alex flings his phone onto the bed. His heart is pounding so hard, he’s sure even his drums wouldn’t be able to drown it out. Just as he turns to his desk to eat his dinner and hopefully distract himself from the horrors of being rejected, he hears his phone vibrate.
The temptation is too much. He makes a dive for his phone, landing on his stomach on top of his bed with a grunt. He turns his phone and grins at what he sees, hiding his face in his blanket to muffle his excited squeak.
From 213-368-0473, To Alex Mercer, 8:44pm:
Hey alex! Yeah, i’d love to :)
From 213-368-0473, To Alex Mercer, 8:44pm:
How about this saturday?