Chapter Text
The late bell rang out loud and clear. 8:25. Every single day, it marked the start of school. And every single day, your best friend strolled in with a lame excuse for why he was late—despite living right across the street from campus.
“Mr. Kennedy.” Ms. Pulack sighed, already bracing herself. “What… what is it now?”
Leon grinned, that stupid, lopsided smile plastered across his face as he glanced at you like the two of you were the only ones in the room. He didn’t seem to notice—or care—that the entire class was watching.
That was just like him, though.
He had this way of making everything he did seem effortlessly charming. From pulling stupid stunts like this to handing out half-baked excuses for being late, he had a knack for getting people to like him.
And they did. Girls especially.
It was exhausting sometimes, watching how easily people gravitated toward him. You'd liked Leon for as long as you could remember (sixth grade to be exact), and while he always came back to you— to your friendship, to your inside jokes and late-night talks— it didn't make it any easier.
Especially not when he dated other girls.
Three of them, to be exact. None of the relationships lasted longer than a semester, and before you knew it, Leon was yours again. Or not yours, just there. Whatever. The worst part? They all looked a little like you. But you didn’t dare think too hard about what that meant. It was just easier to assume coincidence.
You weren’t exactly guilt-free either, though. You dated two guys, both short lived relationships that meant nothing to you. Leon had figured out why before you even admitted it to yourself. He knew you too well. You just didn’t know how to say ‘no’ to people. Being a people pleaser wasn’t exactly a strength when it came to relationships.
It wasn’t like Leon didn’t notice, either. You still remembered the way he looked at you after your second breakup. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. He hadn’t said much, just raised a eyebrow and said: “You don’t have to date someone just because they ask, you know? You know that, right?”
He turned back to Ms. Pulack, shrugging as if he hadn’t just interrupted the first 5 minutes of her lesson. “Got you something. Don’t be mad, Miss.” From the depths of his scrunched-up bag—one that, judging by its rumpled, beaten-up look, might’ve had a beer bottle in it—he pulled out a crumbling cookie wrapped in a napkin. The bakery sticker on the bag was the only thing saving it from looking completely suspicious. With all the confidence in the world, Leon placed the cookie on her desk.
Ms. Pulack raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to maintain her stern face, but the corner of her lips twitched upwards, and she hummed trying not to laugh. “Just sit down, Leon.”
Leon walked over But instead of dropping into the chair beside you right away, he stopped in front of your shared desk and pulled something else out of his bag.
“Here,” he said, holding out a muffin, breaking you out of your little trance.
You blinked at him. “What?”
“A muffin.” He repeated, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his tone.
For a moment, you stared. It wasn’t out of character for Leon to be acting like this. He was always going out his way for people, even when it didn’t make much sense. He’d been like that since fourth grade, when he moved to town after his parents divorce. He didn’t have any friends back then, just that permanent scowl that made him look unnaproachable. His first words to you had been “piss off.”— A learned term from when his parents would argue.
But you hadn’t.
You had followed him around and around, ignoring his groans and grumbles ‘til he finally caved. And when your eighth birthday rolled around, which happened to be during winter break, no one else showed up. Leon had. He brought a gift that was bigger than him. He sat with you on your couch, wiping away your tears and eating cake with you. That was the day everything changed and he became your best friend.
Now, at seventeen, nothing had really changed. Except for the fact that the crush you had on him— brewing since sixth grade, had bubbled up, and now he’s literally all you could think about.
“No, I mean… why are you giving me a muffin? I eat breakfast..” you mumbled, glancing over your shoulder at everyone’s curious eyes.
Leon rolled his eyes like the answer should’ve been obvious. “I stopped by. I was trying to be nice, but whatever.”
“Okay, sorry, I’ll eat it, I’ll—” Before you could say anything else—or reach for it—Leon huffed and, in one swift move, took the muffin— bit the entire muffin top clean off. He chewed dramatically, his cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk as he plopped down in the seat beside you.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Seriously?” you muttered, looking at him up and down as if judging him. He shrugged, leaning in his chair with zero remorse.
Ms. Pulack cleared her throat, and the class turned its attention back to her as she started explaining today’s project. The bottom half of the muffin still sat on your desk like a trophy, staring at you.
"Now, onto something more exciting," she began, stepping to the front of the room and clasping her hands together. "We're starting a two-person project today, and it'll take up the entire week."
A few students groaned, while others exchanged hopeful glances at their friends. Your eyebrows raised as Ms. Pulack's words registered. Two-person project? You glanced at Leon instinctively, and sure enough, his eyes were already on you. When he realized that you were looking at him, he looked away quickly.
"This project is all about connection.” Ms. Pulack's voice carried over the hum of whispers that had already started. “You and your partner will create a multi-media collage, and the goal is to represent the theme through your work."
"Part of this includes creating portraits of each other. That means you'll be sketching, painting, or photographing your partner. You'll also incorporate other artistic elements like clippings of a magazine, quotes, or abstract designs to make it personal and meaningful."
You blinked, your mind catching on one word in particular: Portraits. Of Leon? The idea of sitting across from him, studying his face for hours, made you giggle.
"Symbolism is key," Ms. Pulack added, pacing the front of the room. "It's not just about what your partner looks like —it's about who they are. What they mean to you. The work should reflect that."
Leon nudged your arm with his elbow, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Think you can handle drawing this?" he whispered, motioning to his face.
You rolled your eyes, though your lips twitched upward. "Shut up.”
“Find a partner, then come up to my desk so I can assign you two together.”
Students began standing up and searching for their friends around the class, but Leon stood up and grabbed a hold of your wrist, tugging you upwards.
“Miss! Miss Pulack!” Leon waved your wrist up, waving around. “Yeah, Pulack, me and her are gonna be together, ‘kay?”
This small action made you sweat, tugging your wrist away. “..Like it was ever a question.” You muttered, sitting back down a little embarrassed by the second commotion Leon had made.
"You've got the whole week to bring your ideas together, so use your class time wisely," Ms. Pulack continued. "At the end of the week, you'll present your piece to the class. Any questions?"
Leon leaned toward you again, voice low. "Think we can win this thing?"
You glanced at him, meeting his playful gaze, and felt your chest tighten. "It's not a competition, I just want a good grade.” You replied.
"Yeah, but if it was.." He trailed off with a hum, a stupid grin on his face.
Working on a project with Leon about connection shouldn’t be hard. It’s Leon.You’ve been friends for years.
—-
You found yourself where you always found yourself after school — Leon’s room.
Your backpacks were carelessly thrown across the floor, unzipped, papers pooling out from his backpack from how messy he was.
“You need to shut up about that art project. We have what.. 4 more days?” He mumbled, grabbing the remote to turn on his TV.
“I thought we were doing a portraits of each other, not your weird symbol-collage, or whatever you wanna call it.” You propped yourself up on your elbows, facing him.
“It’s called art, genius. Symbolism. You don’t get it obviously, but I’m not surprised. You aren’t good at it.” He teased, obviously trying to get under your skin.
You groaned, parting your lips to speak, to defend yourself.
But nothing came out, and he snorted right at you. This caused your lips to curl upwards themselves, and you reached for the nearest pillow.
You raised the pillow at him, “You’re so—“ Thud. “—Full of yourself.”
“Ouch!” He yelped, grabbing the pillow and pushing it upwards to get it away. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you grounded.”
“Yeah,” Thud—thud. “Keep telling yourself that. You’re obnoxious.”
“You love me— that! You love that .” Leon corrected himself, clearing his throat and looking away as his face flushed a shade of pink. “A—Admit it, you’d be really bored without me.” He scrambled his words, hoping you didn’t notice that slip-up.
“Both, sure,” you shrugged it off, not having the words click in your head just yet. “Spent too many years caring for you, Kennedy.” You teased.
“Mm, what do you mean?” He asked, taking the pillow out your hands and placing it under his head.
You flopped back down on the bed, facing the ceiling.
“I remember our first um, sleepover. Fifth grade. You and I spent hours trying to convince our parents we weren’t doing anything weird.” You giggled. “Eeewww, why would they even think of that?”
“Then I ended up wearing your pajamas, ‘cus I forgot mine. Those dinosaur ones.” You turned your head to face him.
Leon chuckled, his gaze softening as he nodded. "Yeah, I remember. You were so embarrassed, but I told you it was fine. I think you almost tripped over them because they were too big."
"I did!" you laughed, the memory feeling warm and comforting. "But you didn't make a big deal out of it. I remember thinking it was so nice of you, even though you were, like, the grumpiest kid in class back then."
“I wasn't gonna let you freeze to death. I wasn't that much of a jerk." He scoffed at the mere thought.
You smiled softly, turning your head to meet his eyes. "Yeah, you were kind of a gentleman even back then."
Leon rolled his eyes. "Well, don't get used to it. I'm only nice because you're.. you."
The soft smile on your face faded a little, but it didn't last long. You quickly turned away, hiding your face from him as your heart skipped a beat. Your stomach wasn't supposed to feel this funny. towards your best friend.
But it did. It did and it was frustrating, and now he was grabbing your shoulder, attempting to make you face him.
Leon's hand gently gripped your shoulder, turning you back toward him. "Hey, don't turn away! I have an idea for the project." he said, his voice suddenly filled with energy.
You blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt shift in his tone-and the fact that his hands lingered on your shoulders, holding you in place as if the world depended on you paying attention.
"It's supposed to mean something, right? Connection,” he continued, his excitement building, completely unaware of how close he pulling you in now.
"So, I was thinking... what if we made it about us? I mean. We’re friends.. been friends for like 8 years now..”
"Us?" you repeated, your voice coming out softer than you intended.
"Yeah! Like, how we've been friends forever, how we've changed but stayed the same," he rambled, his words tumbling out in a rush. His hands squeezed your shoulders lightly, as if trying to ground himself in the middle of his own excitement.
"We could include stuff from when we were kids— like drawings, old photos, little things that remind us of who we were and who we are now. It'd be, like, a timeline of our friendship or something."
Your heart stuttered as his eyes locked onto yours. He was so close now, his face just a breath away as he leaned forward, caught up in his idea. You could see every detail-the flecks of blue in his eyes, the faint scar on his chin from a bike crash years ago, the way his brows furrowed when he was concentrating.
"Leon..." You placed a hand on his shoulder to push him, but your voice faltered when he didn't move back.
"And then," he went on, clearly oblivious to your personal space being invaded, "we could add like stuff, like-like maybe sketches of what we think of each other. Not just portraits, but things that show what we mean to each other."
His words hung in the air, and for a moment, the room felt impossibly small. He was so close now, his hands still on your shoulders, his enthusiasm finally slowing as his gaze flicked to yours.
The pause was heavy. You swore he realized it then, the way his grip on your shoulders slackened slightly, his breath catching.
"Uh..." His eyes darted down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and for a second, you really thought-
"You think it's dumb? Sorry, forget about it." he blurted suddenly, sitting back a little too quickly and breaking the moment entirely.
Your brain struggled to catch up. "No—no, it's not dumb. It's... a good idea," you mumbled, cursing the heat rising to your cheeks.
"Cool, yeah. Just, uh, thought of it now," he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced anywhere but at you.
You turned back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, your heart racing a mile a minute. He didn't notice. He's Leon. He's supposed to be just Leon, but your feelings are in the way of everything, and now you're painting friendly things as romantic.
"Yeah, well," you muttered, trying to sound casual, but nothing else came out.
“I’m going to get a snack.” Leon spoke, breaking the silence. “I’ll be back.”
In the kitchen, he leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the assortment of snacks. He wasn’t hungry, he just needed to clear his mind.
What was he even doing? Holding your shoulders like that, staring at you like you were the only thing in the room. Because to him, you kinda were.
It wasn’t like he could help it. You had this thing of making everything weird just by being there. Not in a bad way, you just made him feel fuzzy.
He knew the risks. One wrong move, one stupid selfish confession, and he could ruin everything you guys have. It was why he always thought about his words over and over.
He grabbed a party sized bag of chips, slamming the cabinet, frustrated with how loud his thoughts were getting.
When he walked back in the room, you were in the same position you were in when he left, laying and facing the ceiling as if you were deep in thought.
“Got your favorite.” He threw then directly on your face.
“Ow..”
You picked them up, sat up and opened them. “You’re really mean, you know that?”
He snickered. That was enough to ease the tension in your chest, and remind you that you’re nothing but friends.
This was familiar. This was safe. And for now, he’d take it, even if he wanted so, so much more.
The rest of the afternoon slipped by in the way it always did — effortlessly. Leon sat sprawled at his desk, ‘focused’ on whatever comic he was reading. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was actually reading it, but every few minutes, you'd catch him fidgeting-flipping a page too quickly, scratching at the back of his neck, or glancing your way like he was waiting for something.
You laid on his bed, arms stretched out like you owned it. Your thoughts were loud but your words were nowhere to be found. A conversation would start here and there about nothing, about everything—and it would trail off into comfortable silence.
It wasn't uncomfortable. This was normal for you both: just existing together. But sometimes it was too normal. Like now, when the stupid ceiling had become the most interesting thing in the room because looking at him too long made your head hurt in a way you couldn't explain.
Time was weird when you were with Leon. Hours felt like minutes, and before you knew it, the faint sound of footsteps made him glance over his shoulder toward his bedroom door.
“Leoon? Help me put these groceries away.” His mom called out from downstairs. “Leon, come down here!”
He groaned dramatically, like moving was the hardest task in the world. “..I’ll be back.” He mumbled, dragging his feet out the room.
You nodded, watching him walk out the room before returning your attention to memorizing each individual crack in the ceiling.
Muffled voices began to speak as you heard his footsteps reach the end of the stairs, though you couldn’t hear what his mom had to say. Leon however, was loud and clear. That made you giggle. He’s really loud.
“Yeah, she’s still here.”
Pause.
“I don’t know mom, ask her..?”
Pause.
“No, I didn’t even mean it to be rude to you, I just—“
But before you could even think of anything else, his mom reprimanded him.
“Leon Scott! Go up there right now!”
You bit back a smirk as faster footsteps pounded up the stairs. Leon’s head poked in the doorway, looking mildly flustered.
“..Mom wants to know if you wanna stay for dinner.” He walked in the room, rocking back and forth on his heels, trying not to look too embarrassed. “She’s making lasagna, so, yeah. High stakes.”
“Should I stay?” You raised an eyebrow, already amused.
“I’m not gonna hear the end of it if you don’t.” He huffed, his face reddening slightly. “She’s gonna go on and on about me letting you starve.”
You paused thinking the offer over. Your parents were in a little arguing phase right now. It would pass, you knew this— it always did. But nobody in their right mind wants to be in a angry house.
“Please stay, pleasee. ” He pressed his hands together in mock prayer, his expression hopeful.
Can’t say no to a cute face like that.
“‘Kay, I’ll stay.” You sighed, feigning annoyance. “I guess I’ll stay, tell your mom I said thanks.”
—
Dinner at Leon’s house always felt right. Felt familiar. It had been a while since you last had dinner here.
“You know,” Ms. Frogue started, turning to you as she grabbed the plates. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around, Missy.”
Missy. The nickname she had given you back when you and Leon first started being friends. She had thanked you for bothering him, because if it weren’t for you, he’d be lonely.
Thank you, Missy!
And it stuck.
You nodded, politely smiling. “Yeah, um, August I think.”
Ms Frogue nodded fervently this time. “No, I know for a fact it was August. August feels like forever ago when I’m used to you practically living here.”
Leon froze midstep, two sodas in his hands, for you and him. “Mom, uh—“
“Anyway!” she continued, undeterred. “You must’ve been busy. I won’t press. Although if I remember correctly, early September is when Leon started bringing Kate around..” Her voice adopted that motherly tone, almost if as scolding him.
Kate was his third girlfriend. Out of the three, she was your least favorite. You stopped coming around to avoid giving off the wrong impression to her. It hadn’t mattered, she disliked you regardless, and even now, after their breakup in September, she still gave you dirty glances in the hallways. It’s the second week of October.
You stiffened slightly, but Ms. Frogue didn’t seem to notice. Leon, however, groaned. “Mom, please, please don’t.”
You stuck your fork in your food, breaking it apart and bringing it up to your lips as his mom spoke again.
"I'm just saying!" Alice placed her glass of water down with a little too much force for emphasis. "That girl was rude. Had the nerve to look at me like I was intruding in my own home."
Leon let out a strangled noise of protest. “Mom—!”
“And don't get me started on the way she talked about Missy.” She pointed at you before leaning over the table conspiratorially.
“It was always, ‘Leon, why does she call so much?’ and ‘Leon, you guys are too close!’ As if she didn't know you two have been attached at the hip since you were, what, seven?”
You glanced at Leon, half-expecting him to combust on the spot. His face was red as he dropped into the seat across from you. “We're not talking about this.”
“Oh, we are. Because who do you think had to listen to him complain about it after every hangout?"
Alice gestured toward herself dramatically. “Me! I did!”
“He'd come home all moody, bitchin’ and mumbling about how clingy she was and how she didn't get —what was it Leon?—boundaries. It was like he had man-flu everyday. So annoying..”
You snorted before you could stop yourself, clamping a hand over your mouth. Leon shot you a betrayed look. "You're enjoying this."
“Mmm, you know who wouldn’t? Kate .” You teased, grinning.
His mom laughed at your comment, Leon just sipped his soda in defeat.
“Hey, can I use your phone real quick?” You asked, already standing up from the table.
“Yeah, go ‘head, Missy.”
You walked over to the phone, dialing in your house phone’s number.
“Yeah, what?” Your dad’s voice on the other end of the phone.
“Dad, Hi.”
“Mm, hi, Honey.” His tone softened, but you heard faint yelling in the background— your mom, probably. You decided to make this quick.
“Dad, I’m at Leon’s house.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
There was more yelling. You gripped the phone tighter to your ear as if everything that was happening on the other line could be heard by Leon and his mom in the next room. “Hey, Is it okay if I sleep over? We have, like, a project and it’s a lot so—“
It wasn’t about the project, not really. You just didn’t wanna go home.
“Yeah, do that. Better than whatever the fuck your mom’s got going on. Fuckin’ annoying , I tell ya. Love you, honey. I gotta go…”
The line went dead before you could say anything else.
You set the phone back down on it's cradle, letting your fingers linger on it.
God, this was so frustrating. Why couldn’t they get over whatever they were angry about. I mean, seriously, can’t you get over it? You have rings on your fingers that bound you together for like, forever, and your mad at—-
“..Hello? Earth to—“
You turned on your heels. “Can I sleep over?”
Leon blinked, a smile creeping on his face. “Didn’t you just ask your dad that?” He titled his head.
“Yeah, well,” You trailed off, looking down at your striped socks, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Don’t really feel like talking about it right now.”
His expression softened. “You can.” He didn’t press further, because he had no need to.
Instead, he gestured upstairs with his chin. “I ate the rest of your food, so if you wanna go wash up, you can. I’ll tell my mom you’re staying.”
“Thank you, Leon.”