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Todd didn’t know how long he’d been like this: knees raised to his chest and face buried between them, shaking like a leaf and sniffling, propped up against the back wall of his favorite bathroom stall.
Hell, Todd didn’t even know why he was crying like this. It wasn’t a big deal. A D on a final, it could’ve been worse— the boy that sat beside him got a D-, for example.
Except it was a big deal, especially to him.
Jeffrey wouldn’t have failed, he thought to himself, Jeffrey would’ve gotten an A+, I’m sure.
Quiet tears left dark, damp spots on his wrinkled uniform’s pants. A little bit got in his mouth, a salty taste left on his tongue. He felt like he was drowning in his own anxiety and the salty liquid didn’t help with that.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, Todd, why? Why did we even bother studying? Why do I bother with anything at all?
His clammy hands clutched at himself impossibly tighter, so tense and white in the knuckle that it hurt.
Maybe I should just drop out, maybe I should kill myself; it’s not like anyone’d care. Dad definitely wouldn’t, he has Jeffrey. Pretty, perfect, Jeff. It’s always Jeffrey!
He didn’t hate his brother per se. No, he loved him, he was all Todd had as a kid. …but in moments like these, he just wanted to see Jeffrey get shoved to the floor and spat on like he was scum. Maybe then it wouldn’t feel anymore like Todd’s life was worth less than his.
Another round of rancid bile bubbled to the top of the boy’s chest at the thought; he fought it back down for the millionth time in the past however-long-it’d-been.
He figured that any demerits he got for not showing up to class were just another part of the day’s failure, and that he deserved them for how weak and pathetic he was; he believed every other lie he told himself in low moments like these.
God, it makes me just want to—
The sharp swing of the bathroom door interrupts Todd from his thoughts with a jolt— a boy turns on the sink and starts washing his hands. Todd can’t see who it is.
Maybe he’ll leave soon, oh, God, please leave soon.
He doesn’t.
Waiting for this guy to finish washing up felt like an eternity to Todd when all he wanted was some peace, but now he’s just… Todd wasn’t sure, but he’s doing something in the mirror, probably preening himself like some vain little prick.
Todd’s getting impatient. He was already highly strung and shaking with rage and anxiety, he didn’t need a random jerk to piss him off further. Part of Todd wanted to just scream GET THE FUCK OUT! at the loser, to kick the stall door and shriek at the top of his lungs.
Todd doesn’t.
He freezes as much as he can, hand clamped over his mouth and breathing shallow through his nose.
Another boy enters after him, by the sounds of footsteps and the glimpse of dress shoes under the gap in the stall door. He snaps once.
“Hey, Neil,” Neil? That's Neil? “—you seen Todd? He’s not at study group,” the voice recognized as Charlie asks.
“No,” the first boy— Neil— replied slowly. “Have you asked Meeks? They have math together, right? He would’ve seen him last period, maybe he talked to him.”
Charlie shook his head, but Todd couldn’t see it. “He wasn’t in class, either. It was a short period, though, so Meeks said he figured he’d just turn up once the rest of us were together.”
“Oh.” A beat as he considered this. “Uh, I don’t know, then. I haven’t been back to the dorms in a while, you should check there,” he suggested, voice careful.
Charlie clicked his tongue once. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Thanks, man,” he said as he turned to leave.
Neil called out, “Hey! Good luck, tell me if you find him, alright?”
“Uhuh!”
The door closes with a click.
The room fell to silence again, just Neil at the sink and Todd on the floor shaking with nerves.
God, he didn’t even think of the others, God, he’d just left them this whole time without any explanation, and, God, he was so selfish! His shoulders quake harder again. He gags and chokes once on his own vomit, throat burning with acid—
The other boy in the room stops, quickly shutting off the tap to listen.
There’s a gentle tapping knock on the stall behind him. No response, so Neil taps on the next one, his one.
“Hello? Someone in there?” he asks, voice gentler and sweeter than the one he’d spoken to Charlie in.
Todd’s breath hitches. Was he even breathing anymore? He wasn’t sure.
No, no, you can’t see me like this— no, I’m a wreck, please don’t.
The brunet leans down and peeks under the stall door, locking on Todd. The blond let out a weak little noise, a mix between a squeak and a sob.
“Todd?” he asked, surprised. “Jesus, Todd, what are you doing?” He glanced around the outside of the stall and then returned to looking through the floor gap. “I— Christ, you’re a mess—” He exhales slowly and tries to squeeze the panic out of his voice. “Todd? Could you unlock the door for me? Please?”
He nodded jerkily, weakly, and crawled forward a little, reached up to unlock it, and then returned back to his spot against the wall.
Neil pushed the door open with a little creak and locked it behind him, leaning against the door to sit opposite of Todd in a criss-cross position.
They’re like that for a little bit, quiet and heavy, sitting in a cramped stall. Neil waits for Todd to finish wiping the tears from his face, waits until he’s ready. He always had a habit of doing that; he always was so patient and gentle with him, like he saw Todd as a precious kind of delicate, rather than the usual brittle kind of weak that he was often perceived as.
Eventually, Neil asks, voice soft and hushed, “Do you want to talk about it?”
He shakes his head no.
“Okay.” He places a soothing hand on Todd’s knee. “Do you want a hug or space or anything?”
Todd stares at him for a moment, eyes blown wide and hands still trembling. What did he want? Neil’s hand felt nice. Right. Neil, that’s what.
Todd pushed himself forward and sat back down next to Neil. He rested his head on the other boy’s shoulder.
“’m tired,” he croaked.
“I know,” Neil whispered, trying to keep his voice even.
“I don’t want to be here.”
“Do you want to move to our room?”
“No…”
“…you don’t want to be at Welton, then?”
He swallowed “Yeah.”
“I get that. I don’t like it here, either.” Neil moved his arm to pull Todd into a side hug. “What else can I do to help?”
Kiss me “I… I don’t… I don’t know. Be here?”
“Yeah— yeah, okay. I will. I’m here.” Neil reached up and pushed the front of Todd’s soft, dusty-blonde hair out of the way so he could see the boy’s face. “Is this okay?” He slowly cupped Todd’s cheek with his left, dominant hand, and wiped at the tear streaks. Todd leaned into it like a cat seeking sunlight and hummed weakly in contentment. Neil huffed a chuckle. “Can you give me a clue as to what’s wrong?”
“It’s stupid…”
“That’s alright. It still matters.”
“…I failed my history final.” He sniffles once.
“Oh. I’m sorry about that, Todd. That must suck.”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t normally get so… worked up over… over little things. You doing alright? I mean— well, not right now, obviously, but… lately?” he fumbles. He was trying his hardest, but he was still just an awkward teen, after all.
Todd stared past Neil at the bathroom tile for a bit before responding. “I don’t… I don’t know.” He pulled away from Neil’s hand and pressed his face into the crook of Neil’s neck. It was an intimate little gesture, far too soft for anything he’d usually be willing to do; however, weak like this, he couldn’t find the energy to care. “My stupid brother visited home again,” he mutters scornfully against Neil’s uniform. “Parents sent a letter. He’s always so… so perfect and I’m just Todd. And— and now this— I—” he inhales sharply and forces out the breath. “I told you: it’s stupid.”
Neil considers this for a moment. His hand returns to Todd’s head, now resting on the back of his hair. “You’re not just Todd,” he finally says, voice quiet and as level as he can keep it (which, frankly, wasn’t very.) “You’re our Todd.”
“…our… our Todd?”
“Yeah. Keating’s, the Poets’… mine.” Neil’s hand runs through the boy’s hair, gentle and slow. “Not theirs, never theirs… You’re smart,” Todd scoffed at that, “No, really! You’re smart, you’re kind… Todd, you’re the best poet I know. Even if you don’t believe that and if you don’t share most of your writing… you’re still brilliant. And your taste in literature is spectacular.”
Todd closed his eyes and nuzzled once into Neil’s neck. He didn’t speak, didn’t grumble any further; just buried his face there and breathed in his friend’s scent.
“Do you want me to keep going?”
“Please.”
“I love when, at our meetings, you find the courage to share a poem you like. How you start with that soft, shy, voice but then more passionate as you speak and how there’s this— this dazzling light in your eyes? And then when you finish and look up and everyone’s all quiet in awe and— and you—” Neil giggled like a giddy little kid. Todd couldn’t help but smile at the sound, so warm and bright like the sun. “and you get this pink flush to your cheeks like a rose and get all flustered? It’s—" cute, Neil thought, "—it’s sweet,” he said instead.
Neil’s voice softened as he spoke, his excitement dimming. He grounded himself. Todd held Neil a little tighter.
“I love when you’re comfortable with us. It’s like… it feels so precious, you know? Like nobody else gets to see that side of you and they’re missing out on so much but I get the pleasure? I feel lucky.”
Todd sighs and draws back out of Neil’s clothes, rubbing his eyes, and then he leans his body weight against Neil’s side instead. “I feel lucky,” he hums. “T-to have you, I mean. You’re… I… Thanks, Neil. Uhm… you’re a good friend.”
Something in Neil’s gaze falters for a second, surprised. And then he’s beaming, so happy that Todd’s not a crumbling mess anymore. He punches Todd’s side very lightly. “Attaboy. You are too.”
The corner of Todd’s lips curl up into a smirk besides himself. “‘Attaboy?’” he echoes. “That’s— that’s like something you’d say to a dog.”
Neil grins harder, if that was even possible. “I see your sass is back,” he muses.
“Maybe. Th-that or you’re just stupid levels of dorky.”
“Hey, you’re plenty dorky yourself!” he retorts, voice light and airy with relief.
“I’m cool, though.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Neil ruffles Todd’s hair aggressively, so messy he’d need to fix it in the sink’s mirror after this.
“H-hey! Neil!” he squawks indignantly as he tries to swat the hand away.
“You cool now?" Neil snickers, withdrawing.
“Plenty,” he replies coolly, mimicking Neil.
Neil smiles at him for a moment before shrugging his shoulder and rolling his eyes. “Unfortunately true,” he says, tone almost defeated.
Todd blinks once, twice.
“Huh?”
“You’re very cool, you loser.” Neil punches Todd’s arm once again, slightly harder than last time and invoking a soft little grunt this time.
“S-stop being nice to me,” he laughs, “it’s so weird. Nobody else is like you, you know that?”
“Hmm. They should be.”
Todd shakes his head with a grin on his face. “If you say so…” he chuckles to himself. “We should… probably return to the others.”
Neil taps the floor with his fingers and pouts. “…true. You wanna clean yourself up at the sink first?”
“I probably should… what’re we gonna tell them, though?”
“That you were super cool and cutting school to go pick up a gift for Knox’s birthday next week or something.”
Todd opened his mouth to say something but soon snapped it shut. “I— that might… that might work, actually.”
“I know. I’m great.”
“Uhuh. Very.”
Neil got up and offered out his hand to the boy on the floor. Todd let him pull him up and, now that they were standing face-to-face, Neil brushed his bangs out of the way again.
“…you’re great, Todd. Things’ll be okay so long as I’m here for you, alright? I want you to know that.”
And for once in the boy’s life, he believed the words. Things did feel okay, all because he had Neil. Because he was seen, because he was cared for, because he was loved. In every sense of the word.
Part of Todd hoped he could spend every day on the bathroom floor with Neil like this, as foolish as he knew it was.
Things were going to be okay.