Chapter Text
The humidity loomed in the air, leaving a trail of sweaty teenagers wherever it resided. It was not even summer yet, technically– it was only May, but it was still as hot as ever.
Phoenix leaned against the cool brick wall behind the school’s new renovated gym. (which, actually, he thought was a stupid thing to spend money on–didn't the old gym work fine?) The rough surface of the wall snagged at his sweater, which he did not exactly know why he was wearing in this heat.
The sweat made him sticky and feel a little gross all the time. Other than that, Phoenix really didn't mind the heat as much as other people did. He pulled out a ruffled baggie from the pocket of his jeans and pulled a joint from it, lighting it and letting it sit in between his teeth.
He grabbed his phone from his bookbag and flips it open, his eyes darting towards the time in the upper left corner. “Fuck, only 11:30?” He groaned, taking a drag of his joint. He snapped his phone shut, putting it back into his bag. He sighed and leaned his head against the wall. Phoenix knew he was supposed to be in class right now. But honestly, he didn't really care, and neither did the teachers. His grades were good enough to skip for the rest of the year, and his finals were already finished. School was out in three weeks, so nobody really gave a fuck anyways, why should he?
He took one more hit of his joint before putting it out and flicking it into the field. He stood up, slinging his bookbag over his shoulder and walking back inside of the school building for the rest of the day before he was actually allowed to go home.
He flattened out his hair for about the fiftieth time today due to the raging humidity and dragged himself inside, the bell ringing almost as soon as he walked inside.
He walked into his biology class, which happened to be his favorite– not because of the subject but because of the teacher, Mr. Nguyen, who was the only openly gay person Phoenix had met in his entire life.
That was not the only reason he liked biology, though. He also liked it because of who was in the class with him. His favorite person in the class was Bryar Fraser, who was his table partner… who he just so happened to have a little thing for. Okay. Maybe a big thing. And Mr. Nguyen knew that, and he still sat Phoenix next to him.
He made his way to his seat, noticing that Bryar was already there. “Uh. Hey.” Phoenix waved awkwardly before sitting down, avoiding any form of eye contact with Bryar whatsoever.
“Hey,” Bryar replied, sounding a little too collected for Phoenix’s liking. “How are you?” He said. “You smell like weed.” Phoenix snorted. “No, seriously. You need some… cologne, or perfume, or something. That’s too much, man.” Bryar retorted, poking Phoenix’s chest. He wasn't being dead serious, you could tell by the crack of a smile on his face.
“Wow. Way to call me out, man.” Phoenix said. He crossed his arms, trying to look cooler than he actually is (and failing) as he tried to hide the red creeping up his cheeks.
“Hey,” Bryar said, turning to face Phoenix, sitting criss-cross in his chair. “I have a game tonight, if you wanna come. It's at six,” he said. “Unless you’re too busy smoking pot with your dumb stoner friends.” He grinned.
“Uh- you want me? To come to your game?” Phoenix said, tripping over his words. Bryar laughed. Like audibly laughed.
“Is that not what I said? Yeah. Come to my game. My folks are out of town, it would be nice to see a friendly face in the stands.”
“Oh. Um, yeah. Totally. I totally will. I mean, yeah. Whatever.” Phoenix nodded, his face heating up again.
“Okay. Good. Thanks.” Bryar smiled as Mr. Nguyen got up from his desk to start the lesson.
“I know it's the end of the year, everyone’s ready for summer break, but…” Mr. Nguyen said, placing his hands on his desk. “How about one last project before the year’s over?” The classroom erupted in groans from the students.
“Before you start whining, the project will not be an educational one. It has nothing to do with biology, actually.” Confused looks are shared across the room. “The person you are sitting at a table with right now, do you know them? Actually know them? All of your answers should be no. I have observed the way you work with each other, and I believe that if, for these last few weeks, you really get to know each other, you will work so much better in my class next year.” Bryar and Phoenix share a glance before looking back at Mr. Nguyen. “So for the rest of class, I just want you to talk with your table partner. About anything. Get to know each other.”
Phoenix and Bryar slowly turned toward each other. “So.” Phoenix inhaled. “How are we supposed to do this?” He said, mostly to himself.
“I mean, I know we talk a lot here but I really don’t know much about you.” Bryar says, resting his chin against the palm of his hand, waiting for Phoenix to start talking.
Phoenix felt the back of his neck start to get hot, and for once he couldn't blame the Missouri weather. He shifted in the chair, his clothes suddenly feeling too tight and his hair itching the back of his neck.
“Uh, yeah. We usually don't talk much unless it's about….I don't know. How much lab dissections gross us out?” He snorted, half from embarrassment.
“Yeah.” Bryar said, scratching the back of his neck. “What do you do in your spare time? Do you play any sports?”
Phoenix shook his head. “Uh, I skate? I don't think that really counts. I do play the drums, if that counts for anything. I'm not great at it but I dabble,” He said, shifting in his chair again. “I also really like pottery.”
Bryar tilted his head, his eyebrows knitting together in a slight expression of confusion “Pottery? Like, clay on a wheel pottery? No offense, but I kind of see you as more of a break things guy, not a make things guy.”
The room suddenly felt ten degrees hotter to Phoenix. He felt the heat rising in his body again, not just from embarrassment this time, but also from the strangely nice feeling of someone actually listening to him.
Phoenix grinned. “Yeah, well. It's quiet. I need quiet sometimes, and if you mess up, you just smash it back into a ball and do it again. No biggie.” He mimicked the motion of sculpting a vase with his hands, then realized how stupid he probably looked and shoved his hands back into his pockets.
“And the drumming is kind of just when I don't want things to be quiet.”
Bryar nods. “Skating, pottery and drums. That's a lot of hobbies for someone who spends most of his time smoking weed behind the gym.” Bryar smirked.
“Yeah, but I make do.” Phoenix replies, absent-mindedly fidgeting with his rings.
Phoenix finally looked up, catching Bryar’s gaze and keeping eye contact for more than a second this time. “Your turn,” Phoenix said, trying to regain some of the coolness that he had pretended to have. “Beyond, you know, lacrosse and stuff. What do you do for fun?”
“Okay, don't make fun of me.” Phoenix snickers. “Don't even.” Bryar says. “I really like collecting comic books. Like, The Avengers and The X-Men and shit like that.” Phoenix tries to hold back a laugh but he fails. “Hey, I told you not to make fun of me.”
“Ha. You're a nerd.” Phoenix says. “Bryar Fraser is a fucking nerd, ladies and gentlemen.” He claps his hands together. Bryar shoves him slightly.
“Shut the fuck up, Phoenix.” He whispered through his teeth, a small smile creeping onto his face.
The bell rang, and everyone started to pack up. “Well.” Phoenix said, grabbing his bookbag. “I guess I’ll see you at the game later.” He said.
“I guess I will.” Bryar smiled. “See you later, dude.” He waved as Phoenix stood up and began to walk out.
“Bye, Bryar.” Phoenix waved as he left the classroom.