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“Read lines with me later?” Neil called out from across the room.
Todd, curled up on his bed with a notebook and pencil clutched firmly in his hands, startled. He’d been spending a lot of time writing lately, and Neil was glad, even if Todd never really read him any of it. Todd had seemed happier recently, more comfortable at Welton than he’d been all year. He’d been smiling more, less afraid to laugh out loud when Charlie said something stupid, less uneasy about reading aloud in class.
Neil was proud of him. He liked that smile.
Todd had been staring fervently at his paper for what could’ve been hours now, ignoring the stack of homework and textbooks beside him. Neil was sure that whatever it was he was working on, it was brilliant.
Todd was totally immersed; Neil, on the other hand, was restless.
“Huh?” Todd blinked.
“I just asked if you might want to read lines with me tonight? Before the meeting? Or work on our Latin?” Neil would suggest quite literally anything if it meant spending more time with Todd.
“Oh,” Todd said, brightening. “Yeah. Yes, of course, Neil.” He made a face. “No Latin though. You know I can’t stand it.”
Neil laughed. “It’s pretty terrible.” He cleared his throat. “Alright, lines then. Thanks, Todd.”
“‘Course. Just give me ten minutes, I need to finish this up” Todd tapped his notebook page. “Do you want me to read for the sisters again?”
Neil nodded. “Albany, too. All of scene five, if that’s okay.” He was just three weeks away from opening as the illegitimate earl’s son Edmund in a local production of Lear.
After A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Neil’s father had cut off all contact. It hurt, yes, but Neil's mother still picked up the phone sometimes (always crying), and his father hadn’t pulled him out of school or threatened his college fund (yet), so Neil had hope.
Despite the ache, he felt free for the first time in his life. The excitement of knowing that in just twenty days he’d be standing there again, in that beautiful theater under those blazing lights, and that same thrill would run through him. And he’d feel as if all was right in the world, because he’d be doing exactly what he was meant to be.
Todd hummed in agreement and relaxed back against his pillows again. Neil watched as his expression grew concentrated, fingers gripping his pencil like a vice as he began scratching something down. Todd drew it up to his mouth after a moment, chewing on the end, something Neil caught him doing often.
Neil let his eyes fall to those damned lips, parted around the pencil. They lingered a beat too long before skipping up to the gentle slope of his nose, his furrowed brow, his gentle blue eyes scanning over the paper carefully.
“What’re you writing this time?” Neil asked without thinking.
Todd glanced up, nervous. “Nothing.”
“Oh c’mon. It’s never nothing.”
“Nothing good,” Todd placated.
Neil raised an eyebrow. “I highly doubt that. You’re an excellent writer, Todd. Really.”
A soft flush washed over Todd’s features. “I’m okay,” he said softly.
Neil's heart skipped a beat. “You’re too humble. I’d love for you to read me something sometime. I know I’ve asked before, but I mean it.” He faltered a little. “Only if you want to, of course.”
Todd gazed at him for a moment. “I’ll think about it.”
Neil smiled back, feeling giddy. “Good.”
A quiet moment passed, before Todd finally put his notebook down. “Ready.”
Neil stood and passed him a script. “Will you do the honors?”
“Our sister’s man is certainly, uh, miscarried,” Todd read out in a somewhat flat tone.
Neil sat down beside him on the mattress. “‘Tis to be doubted, madam,” he said assuredly.
Todd cracked a smile. “Now, sweet lord,
You know the god- goodness I intend upon you;
Tell me- tell me but truly, but then speak the truth,
Do you not love my sister?”
His eyes flitted up to meet Neil’s.
“In honored love.” Neil responded, holding his gaze.
Todd’s eyes widened before he let out a choked laugh. “Sorry. Sorry! In honored love– it’s so, so–”
“Dramatic?” Neil asked.
Todd snorted “Yeah.”
“Well it is a play, Mr. Anderson,” Neil teased.
“Oh, budge off,” Todd nudged him a little. “You’re just so in character even when rehearsing, it’s kind of annoying,” he teased, rolling his eyes.
Neil grinned. “I can be even more annoying. How’s this–” In a moment of confidence, he reached out to grab Todd’s hand. “Oh darling, you do have the most beautiful eyes,” he said in full earnest, rubbing his thumb over Todd’s knuckles. “Like peral-white lobsters, scuttling across the seaside, they do shimmer so.” Neil tapped his chin with his free hand. “They remind a person of two drops of oil in a pot of water, non-polar and lonely and unable to unite with their surroundings–”
Todd had fallen into a laughing fit halfway through Neil’s performance. “I’ve had enough chemistry,” he groaned, face red. “You’re so terrible.”
Neil squeezed Todd’s hand. “I know.” He dropped down to the floor from the bed, pulling Todd with him. He laid down on his back and looked up at his friend.
“Neil! What are you-?”
“Lay back.” Neil was still holding Todd’s hand. He didn’t want to let go, but he did. He didn’t want to make this weird.
“Why?” Todd had this charming confused look on his face, his cheeks flushed.
“Just do it.”
Todd did.
“Do you see the cracks in the ceiling?”
“Yes,” Todd murmured.
“Do you know what they really are?”
“Uh, old drywall?”
“Nope. Constellations. See? There’s the Big Dipper—” Neil pointed to a particularly long crack in the corner. “And there— that’s Andromeda.”
“Oh,” Todd humored him, giggling. “Sure, I see now.”
“Do you?”
“Of course. There’s Orion, up to the right,” Todd said, bluffing seriousness. “I liked constellations a lot as a kid, but I always thought Orion looked more like he was dancing, not hunting.” Todd paused. “I like that better.”
Neil looked over at him, heart beginning to race. “Most people wouldn’t give my ceiling constellations a second glance, but I knew you would.” Neil felt his voice go all soft at the end.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Todd asked, mock-offended.
“It’s a good thing, I promise. I don’t know anybody like you, Todd,” Neil said seriously.
And he didn’t: Neil knew that Todd was different from the moment they first met. The moment he first saw Todd’s smile, shy and nervous and oh so sweet.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Neil reached out, maybe intending to cuff Todd on the back of the neck like he would with the other boys, but instead found his fingertips gracing the fabric of Todd’s collar tenderly. He let his hand fall back to his side after a beat and turned to face the ceiling again.
Todd had alighted something in Neil. Something that had been bubbling underneath the surface for years, since he was ten years old, mesmerized by the boys on the worn covers of his cousin Patty’s teen magazines. This fascination (which hadn’t left him since), he hadn’t been able to quite comprehend, and he’d played it off as envy for a long, long time.
Until he met Todd. In a matter of weeks, Neil felt as if he’d do anything to matter to Todd, to push past the timid exterior and really know him.
And then one night, something like two months into the term, Neil had woken from a dream. A dream about glittering eyes and strawberry-blond hair, and a gentle hand slipping into his and holding on tight.
It seemed like Neil would only continue to disappoint his father. Not that it mattered in the slightest now. He couldn’t see why the way he felt around Todd, the leaping feeling in his chest like at any second he’d lift off and fly, could be so bad. So forbidden.
Sometimes Neil felt very, very lonely.
The two boys laid side by side, pointing out ceiling cracks like children finding shapes in the clouds, until the dean came knocking on their door to call lights out.
-
“If you put out a cigarette on my sax one more time, Meeks, I swear to god–” Charlie swiped away the miniscule ash-mark with his thumb and clutched the instrument to his chest in horror.
Meeks held up his hands in front of his face, grinning all the same. “Sorry, Charlie.”
It had been about two weeks, and Todd hadn’t brought up his writing once. Neil hadn’t pushed it, knowing Todd would come to him when he was ready, but he was disappointed and definitely quite a bit curious.
Charlie’s expression grew clouded, and he held his saxophone out to Todd. “Hold her. Keep her safe from this madman.” He stood up as well as he could in the dimly lit cave and cracked his knuckles, glowering at Meeks. “You ready to fight over this, Meeks?”
Meeks shifted nervously. “No?”
Neil glanced to his right, making eye contact with Todd, and suddenly it was all either of them could do to not burst out laughing.
Charlie grinned maniacally. “Wrong answer. Let’s find out if you live up to your name and cower away meekly.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Pitts cut in. “Why’s it a she?”
Charlie turned his attention to Pitts now. “She’s virtuous and trustworthy, like a ship. You call ships she. And for your information, she has a name.”
“What’s her name?” Todd asked, staring down at the instrument in his hands.
Charlie put one hand over his heart. “Clarice. My one and only.”
“Right,” Todd smirked a little in Neil’s direction, then put his innocent face back on for Charlie. “A perfect name.” He handed the saxophone back to his friend.
Charlie smiled. He seemed to have calmed down. “Isn’t it? Thanks Todd,” he said, clapping Todd on the shoulder firmly. “You always cheer me up.”
Neil watched intently as Charlie’s hand lingered on Todd, before it finally fell back to his own side. Neil let out a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding and averted his eyes. He cleared his throat. “I think we’d better start, don’t you all? It’s getting late.”
The group hummed in appreciation.
“Alright. Todd, you’re on minutes, Knox, you’re–”
“Wait,” Todd interrupted. “I have something to read tonight too.”
Everyone turned to look at him, barely concealed surprise on all their faces.
“Really?” Neil asked, warmth rushing through his chest. Todd wanted to read aloud in front of everyone, no prompting at all. He wasn’t sure why exactly he was so excited, past his general pride as a friend, but he didn’t bother figuring out the specifics.
Todd fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “If that’s okay?”
Neil’s breath caught a little. “Yeah, yes, the Society’s open to everyone.” He shoved the pad of paper sitting in his lap into Knox’s hands. “Knox, you’re on minutes now. Don’t screw up.”
He thought he caught Charlie rolling his eyes and mouthing something like kiss-ass to Knox.
“Okay, Anderson, take it away,” Meeks grinned and adjusted the flashlight to shine over Todd’s face. “Make us proud.”
“Thanks,” Todd smiled nervously and pulled a paper from his pocket, unfolding it. It looked like it’d be folded over ten or fifteen times. His hands were shaking, a strand of hair falling in front of his eyes. He pushed it back. His hands were trembling. He opened his mouth once, then closed it, wide eyes skipping up to find Neil’s.
He looked terrified.
Neil nodded once, a reassurance.
Todd swallowed and nodded back. “This is called Hold.” He glanced down. “I wrote it.”
Charlie whooped.
Todd took a deep breath. “I twist and stumble to my knees;
laughter chases us down and lingers,
clutching at my– my chest and holding me there.
Steady and bright, so much like you, and so- so unlike me.”
Todd’s breath hitched. Everyone was staring at him with wide, attentive eyes.
“We lay there until neither of us can remember
exactly why it is we began laughing at all.
“You take my hand as if it’s nothing
yet speak to me as if I’m everything;
sometimes I lose track of which is which, as I watch you,
passion filling you up like an overwhelmed pitcher.
It overflows and pours in rivulets down your spine, soaking your hair and cheeks.”
Todd’s voice wasn’t shaking anymore. It was full and hopeful and self-assured. Neil’s entire body had erupted in gooseflesh.
“You’re beautiful, I realize, as you reach out for me,
your fingers brushing my collar and suddenly,
I am dripping in it too.
It’s new, yes, and terrifying,
but I feel a changed man, steady and bright.
Oh, how your magic thrills me.”
Todd folded the paper up once again and looked up, eyes searching.
They found Neil’s, locking, asking some sort of question, and Neil almost forgot how to breathe. His heart was pounding rapidly, almost painfully so. Incredible. That was incredible. He wanted to say it, no, needed to say it, but he couldn’t make his lips form the words. All he could do was stare at the boy in front of him.
Todd’s eyes finally left his as the other boys gathered around him, cheering. The light of the fire danced across his face.
“Todd Anderson, everybody!” Charlie cheered. “What a man! A czar of romance, if I do say so myself.”
“Yeah, Todd, tell the people who that lovely sonnet was about!” Meeks clapped him on the back.
“Not a sonnet, idiot,” Knox cut in. “All the same, who’s the lucky girl, Todd?”
Oh.
If Neil hadn’t been able to breathe before, he sure couldn’t now.
He’d been so lost in the language. He hadn’t even considered–
But of course, the poem had to be about somebody, didn’t it? Was there a girl Neil didn’t know about? That Todd hadn’t trusted Neil enough to tell? Neil felt like he was plummeting, fast, to the ground.
Sure he’d never expected Todd to feel the same he did, he’d just thought–
It didn’t matter now.
Todd blushed, laughing out loud. “There’s no girl, it’s really nothing,” He looked happy all the same. He wasn’t looking at Neil.
“There’s got to be a girl!” Meeks exclaimed. “What, you wrote that poem about thin air? I refuse to believe it.”
“Okay, maybe there was someone,” Neil shrugged bashfully.
Meeks grinned. “Knew it.”
“A summer love?” Knox proposed eagerly.
“Something like that,” Todd said quickly, and Neil’s heart dropped even further.
“Oh, c’mon, Toddy,” Charlie poked Todd on the arm. “You gotta tell us–”
“Can you all just stop bothering him?” Neil finally snapped. The words came out harsher than he’d expected. “Todd doesn’t have to say anything if he doesn’t want to.”
Charlie held up his hands, laughing. “Woah, boy, don’t bite,” he said.
Neil dug his nails into his palms hard enough to sting. “Oh fuck off, Charlie,” he hissed. “Todd isn’t–”
“Neil, just stop,” Todd’s voice was shaking with anger, tears glittering in his eyes.
Neil froze. Shit.
“I can handle myself! You don’t have to speak for me all the time,” he spit out, words and eyes icy. In less than half a second, he’d pushed past everyone and out of the cave.
The silence was so suffocating Neil kind of thought it’d be better if he just died right there.
Meeks whistled out loud. “Wow, you fucked that up, huh?”
Neil shot him a glare. “I don’t–” he looked down, miserable. “I was just trying to help.”
Knox sighed. “Look, man. That was the first time he’s ever shared something just because he wants to. We were being annoying, sure, but we were just doing what friends do. What we do whenever any of us read our romantic poems aloud.” He put a hand on Neil’s shoulder. “I know you didn’t mean it, but you probably made him feel like he couldn't handle being treated the same as the rest of us. Just because he’s quiet doesn’t mean he’s delicate.”
“I know that, I just–” Neil cut himself off. He was just being an idiot and now he was getting defensive and frustrated. He was the worst, wasn’t he? He buried his face in his hands. “No, you’re right. Fuck.”
“Yeah. I know you know that, Neil,” Knox continued. “You look at the guy like he hung the moon. You want him all to yourself, so you don’t think about how what you’re saying actually sounds to him.”
Why did Knox have to be so damn… wise?
“Sorry for provoking you,” Charlie said sincerely. “I probably made it worse.”
“Probably. It's okay,” Neil sniffed. “I need to apologize. Where do you think he went?”
“You share a room,” Meeks shrugged. “You’ll find him eventually.”
-
Neil pulled his coat tighter around him. He’d been stumbling through the woods for what felt like ages now. The snow beneath his feet still hadn’t thawed completely, and likely wouldn’t until May.
“Todd?” Neil called into the night, teeth chattering. “Todd, I’m sorry, really, I–”
Maybe it was hopeless. Neil was just about to turn around and head begrudgingly back to their dorm (where he doubted Todd would be) when he heard a quiet sniffling coming from behind a tree.
“Todd?” He called again, circling the tree. Todd sat against the trunk, curled around himself, face red with the cold and wet with tears. He must’ve been freezing. “Hi.”
Todd blinked up at him. “Leave me alone,” he said quietly.
“We’re both gonna catch hypothermia out here.”
Todd buried his face in his arms. “I said fuck off, Neil,” he muttered, but it didn’t really sound like he meant it.
“Todd, please just hear me out,” Neil pleaded.
Todd sighed and peeked out at Neil. “What?”
Neil sat down gingerly beside him. “Look, I was an idiot back there. I wasn’t trying to be patronizing or anything, but I know that I do that sometimes. More than just sometimes.”
“Yeah.” Todd mumbled. “I just want you of all people to treat me like normal. Not like I’m gonna break. I’m not gonna break, Neil.”
Neil felt like he himself was gonna break all the time. He swallowed. “You’re not. I don’t think that, and I especially didn’t back there. It’s just–” he cut himself off, embarrassed. “It’s stupid.”
“Tell me.”
“Well, sometimes I get… annoyed when the guys all act like they’re your best friends. When I’m your roommate, I was your friend first, I invited you to the society,” he looked away. “And tonight… Well, you wrote that poem about some girl I didn’t even know existed. And it’s obviously none of my business,” Neil added quickly, “but I just thought maybe you would’ve told me if you had a girlfriend. Or whatever she is to you. They kept asking questions and I just wished you’d confided in me about it instead.” He exhaled. “It was selfish. They’re your friends too, and the poem was damn good. I’m sorry, Todd.”
Todd just looked at Neil and said “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.” Todd nodded.
“Cool.” Neil moved closer to him, their shoulders brushing.
“Y’know, the person I wrote that poem for…”
“Yeah?” Neil breathed.
“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell you, Neil, it’s just that I couldn’t. Can’t.”
“What is she, a marxist?” Neil joked.
Todd shoved him playfully. “No.” He thought for a moment. “Well, it wouldn’t surprise me. But that’s not why.”
“So then, why–”
“That was just to say that it doesn’t have anything to do with you. Me not telling you about it, I mean.”
“The poem. She seems like a good person,” Neil tried, even though his heart ached. “Like she makes you happy. You deserve that.” He’d done the opposite for Todd tonight.
“Yeah. She doesn’t make me feel…” Todd’s breath hitched. “I don’t feel stupid when I’m around her. She makes me feel good about myself. About who I am. I’m not insecure around her. And she’s so incredible, and— and talented, and I just– I don’t know how to explain it.” Todd looked out towards the woods with a troubled look on his face.
“You love her,” Neil breathed out, realizing it was true the moment he said it.
Todd stayed quiet, glaring at the forest floor.
“It's not a bad thing,” Neil assured, even though he sort of felt like he was going to throw up. “I think it’s lovely.” He blushed. “Being in love, and all that.”
“You’re wrong.” Todd’s voice cracked.
“What d’you mean?”
“God, Neil, don’t you get it?” Todd’s words had a bite to them that wasn’t there before. “I can’t be with her. Not ever.” He sighed. “So it’s not lovely. It’s miserable.”
“Oh.”
Todd nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“If it makes you feel better, I know what it’s like to… want someone you can’t have.” Neil said softly.
“Really?”
“Course.” Neil didn’t know how Todd wasn’t half frozen to death out here.
“This girl… can I ask why you can’t, y’know, have her?” Todd asked quietly.
Neil thought for a moment, trying to come up with an excuse, anything to avoid the truth. But any lie felt like lead resting in his mouth. So he decided to take a chance. Because what if he didn’t? What if he spent the rest of his life never having said the one thing that terrified him so much out loud?
“Because it’s not a she.”
“Oh.” Todd looked as if he’d seen a ghost.
Neil hugged his knees, laying his head on his folded arms so that he couldn’t see the boy next to him anymore. “My story isn’t so lovely, huh?” He thought he might cry.
“Neil…”
Neil felt Todd’s hand brush his shoulder before hesitantly resting in his hair. He was warm. Neil shuddered at the contact, heart pounding.
“Look at me.” Todd whispered. Neil did, and the fingers tightened in his hair.
Todd glanced down at his lips and Neil went lightheaded. Then the blond boy was surging forward, pressing his lips against Neil’s in a quick kiss.
Neil was sure he was dreaming. “Todd?” He breathed out the name like a question, stunned.
Todd opened his mouth then closed it again, wincing. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, looking scared. “I just wanted- I wanted to know how it might—” he exhaled. “—how it might feel.”
“Oh.” Neil swallowed. “And did it…?”
“How did it feel for you?” Todd interrupted quickly. His eyes were wide and wondering and so lovely.
Neil felt very, very warm despite the cold. “I… don’t take back what I said about my, ah, attractions.”
Todd didn’t say anything, but his eyes asked for more.
“It was good,” Neil added quietly.
Todd’s already rosy cheeks went bright red and he looked down. “Oh. I– uh. Good. I mean, great.”
Neil was unable to hold back his smile. “And you?”
“Good, too,” Todd said quickly.
Neil’s heart began to beat a little faster. “Yeah?”
“Very good,” Todd mumbled, burying his face in his arms. “I wish–” he paused. “Nevermind.”
Neil nudged him. “Tell me.”
“Wish it had been longer,” Todd whispered, head now resting on his arms but facing away from Neil.
Longer. He wished it’d been longer.
“But- what about your girl?” Neil choked out.
Todd was silent for a moment. “Neil…”
“Is there not…”
“Yeah. No,” Todd finally turned to him. “I mean, no. There’s no girl.” He took a deep breath, cheeks still flushed. “Just you.”
Oh.
“As in…?” The poem. It’d been about…
“It’s all you, Neil. My poetry. My dreams. Everything in this useless brain of mine, you’ve taken it over,” Todd said on one breath out. “You’ve taken me over and this isn’t fair to you because you didn’t mean to, so I’m sorry. And I’m lucky that you are the way you are. You aren’t, ah, turning me into the dean right now, like any other sensible guy would. But I’m sorry that it has to be me and not… yours that’s saying all this right now.”
Neil reached out with a shaking hand to grip the back of Todd’s neck. “You are mine, Todd,” he said quietly.
Todd blinked. “What?”
“You were my someone. But I was wrong before… I can have you. If you’ll have me, anyway.”
Todd was crying. “Oh.”
Neil embraced him, and felt Todd bury his face in the crook of his neck, his mouth hot against his skin, short bursts of breath brushing his jugular as he held back sobs.
“I’ll have you, Neil,” Todd whispered. “I’ll have you.”
“Good.”
“You understand me,” Todd continued. “You know me, even though sometimes I’m really damn hard to know.”
“I try.”
“Most people don’t do so much as try.” Todd pulled back to look him in the eye. “Thank you.”
“Thank you. For trusting me. For letting me know you.” Neil whispered, leaning in to kiss Todd this time.
Todd gasped against his mouth in surprise, but reciprocated gently. The kiss was somewhat clumsy and innocent, but Christ, it was more intimate than anything Neil had ever experienced, Todd’s fingers lingering up and down his cheek. He felt like he could fly; like he could soar.
“We should go back,” Neil broke the kiss. “And finish this somewhere–”
“-warm,” Todd finished, teeth chattering. “Yes, please.”
Neil helped Todd up, and they began the walk back to the dormitories. Within minutes, Todd tripped and ended up on top of Neil in the half-thawed spring snow. They both processed this for a moment before bursting out into laughter.
“Jesus, what’s wrong with me?” Todd giggled.
“Not sure,” Neil responded, grinning and brushing a fleck of snow off Todd's jacket. “But whatever it is, you keep putting us in very chilly situations.”
Todd sighed dramatically. “Hate the winter.”
“You love it,” Neil said affectionately.
“I do,” Todd resolved. “After today, I really, truly do.”