Chapter Text
During the summers when Anthony went back home, he didn’t miss much. The dorms were stuffy despite being cleaned every day, the shared bathrooms were deplorable, and he definitely did not miss the workload. The staff was uptight and held strict expectations for the students, making the environment taxing. Being back home meant his laundry was done for him, he could use his red Mercedes-Benz, and he had no real responsibilities that didn’t involve washing the dishes occasionally.
So, when the school year came back around, and it was time to move back in, he didn't share the same excitement as his peers. He didn’t understand how you could be excited to live and breathe school.
“Anthony, cmon! At least pretend you’re happy that I’m just down the road again!” Hanbon's voice comes through the phone so loud that it crackles in response.
Anthony drags the phone away from his ear, eyeing it haphazardly. He pushes open the doors of his dorm hall with his right shoulder before pressing the phone back to his ear.
Hanbon didn’t attend Kingston Academy like Anthony; instead, she went to a regular public school that did not involve any of the rigorous effort that Kingston required. Not that it mattered to Anthony, she could be homeless, wearing a paper bag, and he’d still call her his best friend. Alas, they were right down the road from each other. The only thing that separated them was a brick road versus cement. Hanbon helped breathe life back into him a few years ago, when he really didn’t have anyone.
“I am happy,” he plainly responded, shifting the box under his left arm. As he turned the corner to the stairs, he was hit with a familiar smell, like the staff had left the windows open, and he could make out wafts of the crisp outside air. A few boys ran past him down the stairs, loud chatter that included hitting each other in response. Their shined shoes squeaked against the bleached floors, a sound that reminded him of the wealth that each boy had come from. It was like every step, he heard a cha-ching in his brain.
“Wow, you have me convinced!” Hanbon replied sarcastically.
“I am, I swear,”
“Well, when you’re all moved in, text me! I want us all to be together again! That would make me so happy.”
Hanbon really meant let’s all smoke. Something that Anthony had perceived to be sinful once upon a time. But now, it seemed to be their friend group's ritual that he even looked forward to.
Anthony briefly chuckled, making Hanbon gasp from the other end, “Why are you laughing? I just love you!”
Before Anthony could respond, he heard his name being called from down the hall. Will hangs out of the open door to their room, waving frantically, all of his shiny teeth showing. He wears a tighter-fitted long sleeve that is semi-tucked into his jeans, the rest of it draping just past his belt. His jeans are wrinkled, and his hair looks like the only thing he put much effort into today. He also has only one sock on while his other foot has a sandal. It summed up who Will was: free, and maybe slightly uncanny.
Anthony lets himself smile in response, quickly saying goodbye on the phone and shoving the phone in his back pocket. He weaved between people's families and furniture in the hall, until he reached his friend.
“God, it took you so long I thought you’d have more with you,” Will points out, eyeing the single box under Anthony’s arm.
Anthony sets the box down on the empty bed, seeing as Will had quickly made himself at home on the other side of the room. His clothes were already thrown across the bed, and posters were curled up on the desk.
Will was a messy roommate, but only on his side of the room, which made it acceptable enough for Anthony. But the dorm air was stale, like the morning after it rains when it’s hot.
Anthony’s nose scrunches as he crosses the room, “The rest is in the car—“
“Woah, wait, car? Your parents let you take the benz to school?” Will asks, his smile lopsided and giddy.
“I just… have it for the week,” Anthony opens the windows, catching a bit of dust on his fingers.
“What’s the occasion?”
Anthony doesn't tell Will about the simmering that had taken cover in his chest since the beginning of this summer. One that had planted itself in his stomach and bloomed to his heart.
He swallows slowly, turning around to face Will, acting like he hadn’t heard him.
Will knew though, because Will noticed everything. He was the steady one, the quiet observer who kept things together when everything else was falling apart. He doesn’t push, instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the door frame.
There’s a silence that occupies the room for a moment, the type that only occurs when someone is building up the courage to ask something.
“Have you seen Coy?” Anthony manages to ask, picking at his fingers casually.
Will shrugs, peering out their door for a moment.
“Haven’t seen him yet. I actually haven’t heard from him since the beginning of summer. But he’ll show up soon, he always does.”
Anthony nods, his jaw clenching and eyes averting Will's gaze.
Coy was one of the only boys at Kingston who didn’t come from wealth. He was on scholarship because Coy was smart, unbelievably smart, but he wouldn’t tell you that. He earned his keep, and not many who attended could say that. But that also meant Coy was busy, he was always working and studying, and he didn’t give himself much room to do anything else. Anthony always assumed that Coy dreaded going home for the summer because it meant he was forced to relax.
Anthony worried about him most summers because his phone calls weren’t frequent. Coy normally would disappear, not answering his phone, and then come back like nothing had happened. He knew Coy's life back at home wasn’t easy, but not to Coy's submission.
__
The beginning of July had come around, and it was almost midnight when Anthony had felt the buzz from under his pillow. Anthony rubs his eyes with his palms, seeing a familiar photo lighting his screen. He swipes, answering the call drowsily.
“Coy?”
“Thank god you answered. Anthony, oh my god—I don’t—I don’t—“
Anthony sat straight up in bed, “Hey, slow down, what’s goin on?”
He can hear his friends' breathing become jagged, clearly trying to soothe himself. There’s a shuffle, and then Coy sucking in air through his teeth.
“My parents, today-our priest-they.. i..” he breaks off, and Anthony could tell he wasn’t in any shape to talk about whatever happened.
There’s silence for a beat or two, until Anthony speaks up again.
“Coy?” he repeats, more urgently than the last.
Coy sniffles, muttering, “I didn’t know who else to call, honestly.”
“I’m confused. Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you?” and maybe that was a stupid question. Because Coy lived about an hour and a half drive from Anthony, and it was almost midnight, and—
“Please,” Coy whispered desperately, shattering any thought that stood in the way of Anthony helping his friend.
Anthony didn’t waste a second, grabbing his keys from his bedside table and sliding his feet into a pair of slides.
“I’m, I’m coming right now, just hold on, okay?”
Anthony disobeyed any speed limit posted and made it in an hour. When he got there, Coy was sitting on his front porch steps with a duffel bag that could barely zip close.
He wasted no time getting out of the car, jogging over to his friend and kneeling in front of him. Coy's hair was disheveled, lids puffy, hanging low and defeated.
Before Anthony could utter a single word, Coy wrapped his arms around him and let out a wretched sob.
They didn’t talk much after, but he expected that. Coy took his two bags and put them in the back of Anthony’s car and made himself at home in the passenger seat. Anthony pulled out of the asphalt driveway, turning on The Smiths to fill the silence. He thinks Coy appreciated that.Coy only stayed until the evening the next day, his presence lingering in Anthony’s bedroom for days after.
__
What Anthony didn’t expect was that he wouldn’t talk to Coy the rest of the summer, his wellness being left up in the air.
Anthony knows he took the car during move in week incase Coy needed him again.
“Hey, do you wanna grab lunch? I can help you unpack the rest of your things after,” Will suggests, already grabbing his wallet and halfway out the door. He was always ready to save the day, like the last ray of sun and kindness in Anthony's orbit.
Anthony doesn’t respond, but he gets up and follows Will as he always does. It seemed to be a habit; wherever Will went, Anthony wasn’t too far behind.
Will and Anthony went to Hanbons that night and still hadn’t heard from Coy. And while Hanbon and Will were used to Coy's flighty nature, Anthony had become more antsy to see him.
“You spent all your time working this summer?" Will asks Hanbon as she lies down on the roof. She flicks him a look before flipping him off fully.
"Some people have to actually work to get money, Will."
"I know that," Will scoffs, "I've worked before."
Anthony licks the wrap between his fingers before twisting the joint off, handing it to Will to light first. "At a job that you didn't have to apply for. You don't even know how to write an email."
Hanbon and Anthony share a laugh while Will grumbles because Anthony isn't wrong. Instead, Will silently snatched the lighter from his pocket. He struggles to use the lighter because the flame keeps going out due to the wind. Anthony leans over and cups his hands over the lighter, allowing Will to take a successful first hit.
Will squints when he takes the drag, leaning slightly over the roof as if he is trying to see something.
Will completely incoherently goes, "Ifinkiseesumfing,"
Hanbon howls, "You what?!"
Anthony directs his attention to where he's looking, and as the figure grows closer, he can see it's someone riding on a bike.
Will dramatically gasps as he hands the joint to Anthony, "Who is that?!"
Anthony takes the joint and inhales deeply, hoping it will calm his racing heart. The figure draws closer and hops off the bike, and when it gets into the streetlight, it calls out, “Room for one more?”
Coy.
Coy called out, wheeling his bike next to him. Old, rusted, and entirely too fragile to ride safely. Anthony exhales upon recognizing Coy, the air sharp against his face.
A wide smile spread across Will's face, making him stand up and wave. “Where the hell have you been?!”
Hanbon also yells, “The doors unlocked, Coy!”
Coy hesitates—for just a second—then lets his bike fall onto the grass and makes his way inside Hanbon's home. Will nudged Anthony with his foot before sitting down again, not to say anything, but more as an "I told you so."
Anthony feels his pulse kick up, the horrible mix of relief and dread flooding his chest even as he tried to shove it down. His eyes remain focused on the joint between his fingers, watching as the smoke twists and drifts into the air.
Coy takes a seat next to Anthony. Silently, he plucks the joint from his fingers and brings it to his lips. Anthony glances, just for a moment, at Coy—and his lip is split and his knuckles red.
Will makes eye contact with Anthony first, and then Hanbon, and he stiffly shakes his head. No one points it out. A silent acknowledgement, one that is knowing amongst the group. A promise to not bring it up unless he does first.
Coy lets out a puff of smoke, letting his head fall onto Anthony’s shoulder. He wasn't tense like he was this summer; there was something slightly softer, maybe even more defeated.
“Took you long enough,” Anthony mutters, peering down at his friend's dusty hair.
Coy lets out a wet laugh, “Hey, don’t be mean.”
“Man, I missed you guys!” Hanbon does her best to wrap her arms around all of them from behind, but miserably fails and ends up just uncomfortably squeezing the three together.
“I missed you, Bon,” Coy responds, reaching over Anthony to hand Will the joint. His breath barely fans Anthony's face, yet it's close enough to make Anthony's head hang between his legs to hide his face. He could feel his face get hot even though the air wasn't.
“And the rest of us?” Will asks, feigning offense.
Coy rolls his eyes, a bashful grin growing on his lips as he lifts his head from Anthony’s shoulder. “I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of saying it.”
“Awhhh, Coy!” Hanbon coos. “See, Anthony? Even Coy missed us, do you miss anything?”
“It was only three months,” Anthony shrugs, his eyes trained on his shoes in front of him.
“Only three months,” Hanbon mocks, blinking like Anthony had grown a second head.
“Cmon, you know how Anthony is,” Will defends as the girl crosses to sit on the other side of him. “He misses us in his own way!”
Hanbons face twisted. “You’re so lame.”
“What did I do? I’m just defending my friend!”
Will and Bon start to diverge from the original topic, getting lost in their meaningless bickering. Anthony swears he can see Hanbon plotting to push Will off the roof in her eyes.
“You really don’t miss anything about this place when you go back home?” Coy asks quietly, making Anthony turn his head toward him.
Anthony contemplates for a moment. A look that Coy can’t quite decipher, even with furrowed brows and tense shoulders.
“Not really. I have a lot for me back at home,” Anthony replies casually.
"You-" Coy's breath stuttered, the frustration folding into something sharper, more exposed. Coy lets air escape through his nose. “Silly me, I forgot that you have everything. It doesn’t make a difference to you.”
Even though Coy tries to play it off as sarcasm, his tone has a bite to it, words jagged and cold. Anthony didn’t realize how he had come off just now. Ignorant of his privilege and of Coys situation.
“I mean, not... not everything,” Anthony slips quickly, his eyes locking with Coy's. He wasn’t even sure he said it because of how effortlessly it had tumbled out. It was a choice to be more vulnerable and sheer, in his own strange way.
Anthony isn’t even sure what everything means to him, but when his eyes are on Coy, his skin sets ablaze. Like every nerve in his body is awake and rattled just by the mere presence of Coy.
When Anthony thinks of having everything, he thinks he falls short.
Coys mouth opened, then closed. He hadn't expected that. Before he could respond, Will shoved lightly at Hanbon and clumsily used the pair as a railing to dart inside.
“Coy! Stop him!” Hanbon exclaims, earning a swift nod from him, and the next thing Anthony sees is Coy launching himself through the window at Will. Anthony puts out the joint, leaving it on the windowsill for next time. He looked back out one more time; the sun had now fully set, and you could see the stars begin to peek out.
It reminded him of the meadow.
"Anthony!" Will screeches, on the ground now getting pinned down by Coy and Hanbon.
He snorts, closing the window, "You're on your own."
Anthony drove Coy and Will back to the dorm hall. Seeing as both of them were way too high, they could barely make eye contact with one another. Anthony left Coy's bike in his trunk and led the way for the trio, only catching the end of their conversation as they arrived at their first stop.
“Stop looking at me,” Coy said abruptly.
“You! Stop looking at me! Your blue eyes are freaking me out, ” Will said sharply, fumbling with his keys.
Coys eyes narrow. “Well, your regular eyes are freaking me out. And your breath smells like Jar Jar Binks' asshole.”
"Wow." Will shifted. "Is it be mean to Will day?"
Anthony rolls his eyes and takes the keys from his hand and unlocks the door, letting Will skip through. He goes to pull the door closed when Will spins around and eyes the pair.
“Wait, you’re not coming in?” Will frowns.
Anthony presses his lips together in a thin line, “I’m walking, Coy.”
“Coys dorm is just upstairs.”
“Yeah, Anthony, it’s okay, I can walk up a flight of stairs—“
“No, let me. Will, I’ll be back in just a sec, do not lock this door.” Anthony threatens, pointing his finger at Will.
Will winces, an evil smirk crawling on his face.
"Do NOT lock this door, Will," Anthony emphasized. "I will behead that creepy doll you have."
He puts his hand up in surrender, “I won’t! I’ll keep your bed nice and warm for you, promise!”
“Will, I swear to god—“
Will falls backwards into Anthony’s bed, making the bed squeak and shake due to its old framing. Anthony groans as Coy shuts the door for him. “What you can't see won’t hurt you.”
“But I did see it,” Anthony deadpans.
Coy pats his back, “Yeah, I know.”
“Fucking moron.”
The pair walks silently through the hall, comfortably. This was Anthony’s favorite part, when everyone was asleep, and the dorms fell quiet. They stayed quiet until they’d reached the flight of stairs.
“I never said thank you for this summer,” Coy managed to say, like he was stripping back a layer of himself that no one had seen before.
“Yeah, no problem, Coy. Don’t think anything of it, seriously,” Anthony tries to downplay, feeling blood rush to his ears.
“Did you tell them? Coy asks, stopping in front of his door and turning to fully face Anthony. Anthony shakes his head in response.
Anthony hasn’t really thought of telling Will or Hanbon. Not because he didn’t want to, but because frankly there hadn’t been an appropriate time to.
“You won't, right?” Coy pressed.
Anthony swallowed, using his pants to wipe off the urge to pick at his fingers. He knew Coy would be reluctant to tell the group what happened that night, but he didn’t realize Coy wouldn’t want to bring it up at all.
It felt like he was making a promise that wasn’t meant to be kept.
“Sure,” that seems to satisfy Coy enough, and before he unlocks his dorm, he turns to Anthony and throws his arms around him. This time, not in a desperate way, but like he was fully present in a way that he hadn't been in months.
Anthony can’t do anything but hug him back, his fingers curl around the soft material of his worn T-shirt.
It may have lasted a moment too long; who could judge when the lights were dim, and those were asleep?
“And this is for playing The Smiths that entire hour,” Coy said quietly as he pulled away, pinching Anthony’s skin mischievously. "And for making me play Settlers of Catan."
Anthony tried to contain the bubble of laughter, rubbing the skin of his arm. "I was driving fast, it could've been an hour and a half," he states matter-of-factly.
Coy leans back on the door, faking an impressed look.
"And Settlers of Catan is a strategy-based economic game!" Anthony added. "You said you'd try. Will likes it!"
"It's Farmville for virgins." Coy now pulls his keys out and moves slow enough for Anthony to grab his arm, clearly not done with the conversation.
"No, it is not."
"Okay, fine, why are there sheep then?"
Anthony groans, "I told you, it's because wool is a resource!"
Coy shoves Anthony, pushing his dorm open and flicking on the light. It had barely looked like someone was staying there. But Anthony was familiar with Coy's minimalistic nature.
"So is beer, Anthony, where's that in the game, huh?"
Anthony ignores him, his feet still planted in the hallway. Coy seems to notice his silence immediately and lets out a soft chuckle.
"I'm kidding."
"I know," Anthony mutters.
Coy rocks on his heels before he walks back over to the door, looking like he might just close it on Anthony. But he rests his head against it. "You know that night you talked about how there's a meadow you go to around here?"
Anthony jolts awake at the mention. That night Anthony had told Coy that his place reminded him of a meadow close to Kingston, filled with purple and white flowers. It seemed almost out of place in a busy town.
"You should show me this year," he said evenly. Coys eyes were glossed red, and his cheeks were slightly tinted, and Anthony kept telling himself to tear his gaze away before he got caught staring.
Anthony nodded, maybe one too many times, "Yeah, I mean, it's not really special-"
"It sounded like it was."
Anthony promised to show Coy the meadow. He fled to his dorm as soon as Coy shut the door to his, his fingertips completely numb.
When Anthony came back to his bed, Will had fallen asleep with drool running down his face. He palmed his face, yet didn't wake Will, he instead rolled into the empty space next to him and squeezed onto the bed.
With Will fast asleep at his side, Anthony concluded that he did miss one thing. Because that night he dreamt of Coy, the meadow, and the Smiths.