Chapter Text
“Dude, you coming or not?” Rowan asks from the doorway. Wren is taking her sweet time packing up…again. “Hey, this would be over way sooner if you’d just help me!” Rowan walks into the empty classroom and starts to grab Wren’s books and hand them to her. “Seriously, you don’t HAVE to re-organise your bag after every class. If you just put your books and stuff back where you got them from, it’ll be fine.”
“…so why help me then?” Wren chirps back, that smug smile on her face. Rowan looks her dead in the eye, and they both start to laugh. “Okay, whatever, you win. Let’s just hurry up, I gotta get home.” Wren closes the zipper to her bag quickly, but the cord to her Korn hoodie gets jammed in.
“Fuck.”
Rowan hears her and turns around. “You good?” He calls out.
“No, I’m not good. My hoodie got stuck in my bag, because SOMEONE can’t wait five seconds for a girl to pack up.” Despite sounding mildly pissed off, Wren grins at Rowan. He rolls his eyes and grabs Wren’s hands, moves them out of the way, before opening the zipper, freeing the hoodie cord. “Ok. Are you ready now?” Rowan asks, and Wren shrugs her backpack onto her shoulders before walking in front of him. “Yes, I’m ready. Jeez, you ever heard of a thing called patience? C’mon man, let’s go!”
’God, she’s adorable’ Rowan thinks to himself, catching himself staring at Wren. Her long, dark brown hair, her soft blue eyes, her adorable patches of freckles, the way she seems to glide on air when she walked.
“Hey! You were the one complaining about missing the bus, what are you gawking at?” A voice snaps him out of his trance. Wren is now standing ten centimetres from him, and even though she has to look up to him, she’s still rather intimidating. (Rowan also thinks this is adorable) “Oh, uhh…sorry. I just zoned out for a sec there.” He rubs the back of his neck, going a mild shade of beetroot. Wren’s face softens a little. ‘That’s cute as hell. Wait, what? No. No, that’s ROWAN.’ Wren’s mental tug of war is interrupted
“It’s all good man, I’m just messing with you. But we did miss the bus, so…you wanna walk home today? The next bus isn’t for a solid twenty minutes.”
“Welp…I guess we’re walking, huh?” Rowan adjusts the sleeve of his black longsleeve, reaches into his pocket, grabs one wireless earphone, puts it in his ear, and offers the other one to Wren. “Aw, thanks man! What’cha listening to?” She puts the earphone in her ear, and they both start walking as Rowan opens his phone to put on some music. “Probably…some Linkin Park. Now I know you’re not a big fan of them, but c’mon dude! Meteora was, like, the greatest album ever for me for a while.”
Wren rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I guess poser trash is better than no music at all.” She says, her smug grin making a return as she nudges Rowan in the shoulder (It’s more like the bicep, because goddamn the height difference). Rowan gasps and physically recoils, placing his hand over his heart as if he’d just been stabbed. “Oh…my heart…broken. How dare you?” They both lose it laughing. “God, you’re such a sook,” Wren manages to get out inbetween fits of laughter. She wipes her eyes with her middle finger, and eventually they calm down a bit. “Yknow what? This actually isn’t that bad!” Wren starts bopping her head up and down (they’re at the final chorus of Somewhere I Belong) “YES!! HA! I TOLD you that Linkin Park is peak!”
Wren shakes her head and sighs loudly. “Touché. You win.” Rowan looks at Wren, who’s actually really enjoying the song. Rowan smiles so wide that his jaw starts to ache, and quickly suppresses it so he doesn’t look actually insane. ”Hey, Wren?” Rowan mentally braces for what he’s about to say. ‘ohmygodohmygod’ Wren pauses, glances up at him, “Yeah?” She says, her head cocking to the side, a habit she picked up from Rowan.
“Uh…you look really nice today. I just wanted to let you know.” It’s like Chernobyl in his head right now. ‘Did I just say that? Ohhhh fuck why did I say that? She’s gonna think I’m a complete weirdo now. Great job, Rowan. Ya blew it.’
Meanwhile, Wren lights up. “Really? Thank you so much, Rowan! You’re so sweet! I did do something new today with my hair, I was hoping someone would notice!” Rowan noticed. He noticed the way it fell in front of her face when she moved her head too fast, the way she flicked it back and tucked it behind her ears. He thought she looked beautiful with her hair like that. Of course, he’d never say it to her face, but god, she was pretty.
Wren and Rowan have been friends for almost as long as they can remember. How they met, neither of them really know. They just sorta…appeared in each other’s lives, and now neither of them can imagine life without the other being there, cracking stupid jokes, passing dumb little notes to each other, and just generally being in their own little world. But ever since they started high school together, Rowan fell completely, head over heels in love with Wren. He is completely petrified of ever telling her (or anyone else, for that matter) because he doesn’t want to risk losing his favourite person of all time. He doesn’t want to lose the girl he can go to when he’s not doing well, the one he can randomly text at 2am and get a response 5 minutes later, and above all else, he doesn’t want to hurt Wren. You see, Wren…has had a pretty difficult past. She trusts Rowan enough to tell him the ugliest parts of herself, and he doesn’t want to take that away from her. But… Wren loves Rowan too. She’s just scared to tell him because she doesn’t know if she can be what he needs. Wren has always struggled a lot with emotions. Whether that be regulating her own when she was younger, or identifying others’ now, she’s never been good with them. She knows Rowan better than anyone else, ever, but she’s still terrified that she won’t be able to handle Rowan’s reaction. So both of them carry around this massive, needless pain of having feelings for someone you’re ’just friends’ with.
“Oh, uh…yeah! I did notice, I think it looks great!” Rowan blushes, stumbling over his words. Wren grins and says, “You know, you’re the only one who noticed. So, seriously, thank you.” Wren has a tendency to overthink everything so, SO much. So when Rowan complimented her, she immediately went: ‘oh my god is this it?’ Then: ‘no, surely not. He just noticed my hair. Wait…was it my hair? He didn’t say anything about my hair. It might be my clothes. God… maybe he’s just being nice’ but then she realised—maybe she’s just overthinking this. Because of Rowan’s help, and because he overthinks things too, she’s been able to understand when she should just…take a breath. Since Wren is so lost in her thoughts, Rowan takes a second to change the song. He knows for a fact that Wren absolutely adores Rammstein, despite not knowing a word of German. As soon as Till starts counting- “ein, zwei, drei, vier…” Wren stops. She turns towards Rowan and socks him on the arm. “You asshole! I was actually getting into Linkin Park! Y’know what? This is better. You know me too well, huh? I’ve actually been thinking about learning German, so then I’ll actually be able to…” Rowan just lets her ramble, because he loves hearing her just babble on about her favourite things. He thinks it’s the cutest thing, the way she could go on for hours if no one stopped her. Seeing her smile makes him feel something warm in his chest, and while she attempts to mimic the gritty industrial lyrics, Rowan chuckles. His smile gets a little sadder, and he has to fight to keep tears from pricking the corners of his eyes. ‘Fuck, I wish I could just tell her. She deserves to know.’
”Well…this is me.” Wren stops, looks at the left turn onto her street, and then looks back at Rowan, smiles, but her eyes look sad. “Wren…you wanna talk about it?” Rowan places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Huh?” Wren fixes her smile. “You’re doing it again, dude.” Wren cocks her head to the side (it’s become a natural reflex now). “What thing?”
“The thing where you pretend you’re fine. You know I’m here, yeah?” Rowan rubs her arm, before taking his hand off her shoulder. Wren sighs, a real one this time. “I’m sorry. I just…I don’t wanna go home, y’know? Is…is it alright if we…go somewhere? I don’t mind where. I just can’t go home right now.” Her voice breaks on the last syllable, and a tear rolls down her cheek, before more come, much faster this time. She shrinks away, andRowan pulls her into a tight hug, moving his hand in circles on her back. She buries her face into the crook of his neck and sobs. Once, twice, three times, until eventually she calms down. She peels her face off his shirt, leaving a Wren-shaped wet mark where she cried. “It’s okay, Wren. Don’t be sorry. I got you, okay?” Rowan holds on for a moment before letting go. “S-sorry for, uh-h-h, y’know…your shirt…” she’s hyperventilating, and Rowan freezes for a moment. He’s unsure of what to do, but he puts both hands on her shoulders, and looks straight at her. “Wren. My shirt is the last thing on my mind right now, alright? I couldn’t care less about my shirt, so you dont need to apologise. You’re good, okay? What I want you to do is take some real deep breaths, okay? You’re hyperventilating. So c’mon, in… out. Good, okay. A few more, alright? In… and out. In… and out.” Wren’s breathing settles, and she dries her eyes on her hoodie. “Fuck. That was…not my proudest moment. Thanks, Rowan. Um…you got any tissues? I don’t wanna ruin this jumper, you got me this one.” Wren giggles and fiddles with the cord. “I remember. You couldn’t go to that concert, so I got you this. And uh…” he rifles through his bag, searching for anything Wren could use as a tissue. “Ah! Here we go. I’m pretty sure I stole these from you anyway, so keep ‘em.” He hands her a little packet of Kleenex tissues, and Wren starts blowing her nose. “Cheers, man.” Wren looks down at her beat-up Chuck Taylors and asks, “C-can I have another hug? I understand if not, but-” Rowan wraps his arms around her, and gives her a little squeeze, as if to say, ‘I’ve got you.’
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Rowan. You’re the best.” Wren mumbles into his shirt.
“Wren…I’m just doing my best to make sure you’re okay. I don’t know how to do this, so just…bear with me here. Let me know what you need, and I’ll try my hardest. I’m here for you, man.” The hug lasts for a solid five minutes, and when they eventually pull away, Rowan asks, “how about we just go to the park and sit on a bench for a while. If you want, you can tell me what’s wrong, but I’ll be there either way.” Wren nods, still a little shaken up from her breakdown. “I-I think I’d like that.”
This park has been their spot for years, ever since they were young enough to drag their parents here after school every day to watch them play on the monkey bars, but now it’s just…their spot. They come here to sit and chat about dumb stuff, about serious stuff, and occasionally to goof around on the two-person swings like absolute idiots. Rowan and Wren find this spot mostly empty, apart from an elderly couple walking their just-as-elderly-looking caboodle. They walk straight towards their bench, and sit down. Wren curls in towards Rowan, resting her head on his shoulder and absentmindedly picking at his shirt. “So…do you wanna talk about it?” Rowan says, as calm as he possibly can while his heart is climbing its way up his trachea. “Nah, not really. Can we just…sit here for a bit? You’re warm.” Wren mumbles, still focused on Rowan’s shirt. “Course we can.” Rowan takes a deep breath and relaxes a little (well, as much as one can relax when the girl you love is using you as a piece of furniture). “Hey, Rowan?”
“Mm?”
“I got invited to this party thing a few days ago, I wondered if you’d wanna come with me? It’s been a while since I’ve really been to a party that wasn’t one of my relatives’, so I think I’d be a lot more comfortable if you came with me.”
Rowan looks down at his best friend, who has moved on from Rowan’s shirt to moving her head side to side to a song only she can hear, and in that moment, several things enter Rowan’s head;
• Holy shit, she’s adorable
• Is she inviting me to a party?
• Should I go? What if people think we’re a thing? Would that make Wren uncomfortable?
• I think I’m gonna go.
• Ugh why does she have to be so fucking pretty? It’s not fair.
And what Rowan actually says: “Uh…sure! I’d love to go with you! Whose party is it?” Wren shrugs, and says, “Oh, some friends of mine from a while back. I used to be in a sorta…situationship with one of them. Situationship? Is that what it’s called? But yeah I haven’t seen any of them in, like, a year. We’ve talked and stuff; she’s got a girlfriend now, and it’s her birthday in about two weeks.”
‘Hold on…did Wren just say “she”? I didn’t know Wren was into girls. Fuck.’ Rowan felt guilty for assuming that Wren was straight, but to be honest she hasn’t really been very chatty about her dating life. He’d always just thought that she would like guys, like most of the girls he knew. “Oh, I didn’t know you liked girls?” Rowan says, before thinking, ‘Shit, that probably sounded super weird. Should I apologise? Let’s just see what she says first…’ Wren looks up at him and nods. “I mean, I like guys too. Y’know, you’d think that having more options would mean I’d… have more options, but clearly not. I’ve technically only dated one person, and even then I’m not even sure that we dated dated.”
Rowan runs one hand through his hair, the other one trapped between the bench and Wren’s back. “Fair enough I s’pose. But hey, you’ve still had more experience than me with this stuff. Seventeen years on this earth and the closest I’ve come to anything like that is, well… you.”
’What?! Rowan, you fucking idiot, why?!? Why would you say that?! Wren’s gonna freak out, and it’s gonna be your fault, and you’re gonna lose your best friend, and it’s—‘
’What? Did Rowan just say that? No. Wren, you’re overthinking this. He didn’t mean it like THAT. That’s just wishful thinking. You need to stop overthinking things! He just meant that—‘
The both of them freeze. The colour drains from Rowan’s face and Wren goes a bright red commonly seen on the side of a firetruck. “Uhm…what I meant was…” Rowan stumbles to get his words out, it’s like his tongue was made of rubber. Meanwhile Wren tries to say something but only manages a small squeak. “Okay. Um, let me try that again. Yes, Wren, I would love to go to a party with you. I totally did not just say something weird and awkward and I am totally not overthinking the shit out of this right now. Completely normal conversation.” Lucky for Rowan this gets a laugh out of Wren, and she says, “Okay, sweet! Um, I should tell you it’s supposed to be black tie; they’re like, loaded. You’ve got that tux from the school social still, right?” And Rowan cocks his head to the side and answers, “Uh…I think I do, but I’ll check later tonight. I’ll text you when I find out, okay?”
“Sweet! Coz I’ve still got that dress, and I think it’s growing on me.”
Rowan gasps in exaggerated shock. “What?! You? In something other than cargo pants and band shirts? It’s a miracle!”
“Oh, fuck you then.” She punches him in the gut, but there wasn’t any malice behind it. She ends up with her arm across his stomach, and after a while of just sitting there, chatting shit, Wren yawns, and apart from thinking; ‘Oh my god she’s so cute when she does that.’ he says, “Okay, man. I think it’s time we get you home, before you fall asleep and I have to carry you there.” Rowan knows full well that he would love that, and Wren would love it too. But for the sake of keeping the ‘just friends’ facade, he gently moves Wren’s arm off his chest, and stands up, offering his hand out. Wren grabs it and tries to pull herself up, but because Rowan’s legs were stiff from sitting for so long, she ended up pulling him onto her. They collapsed in a messy heap, limbs tangling, and when they’ve regained any semblance of coordination, they realise - their faces are so close together their breath mingles and their noses touch. They both nearly have heart attacks. Wren decides to try to break some of the awkwardness. She untangles her hand from Rowan’s shirt and presses the pad of her finger onto his nose. “Boop!” She giggles, and Rowan raises his eyebrows, but ultimately he sighs, knowing from experience that he isn’t winning if he tries to boop her back. He gingerly removes himself from on top of Wren, offers his hand again, and this time manages to pull her up. “Wow. We really are a special kind of special, huh?” Wren laughs, and locks eyes with Rowan. She feels her cheeks burn, and she looks away. ‘Oh. My. God.’ She internally screams. ‘He was so close. I could feel his breath on my face…god, he’s hot. What if…no. Wren, you’ve gotta stop this! It was an accident. An accident that I’m probably-no, definitely-gonna replay in my head for the next two months. Mm…why shouldn’t I just tell him? Because there’s no way he likes you back, that’s why! If we were meant to be, we would’ve BEEN by now. Ugh.’
Rowan looks at her, still burning with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement, and feels like that’s the closest he’s ever gonna get to being with her. That makes his chest hurt, but god, even now he’s replaying it in his head. ‘If I’d just…if I’d just moved my head forwards a few centimetres…I would have…ugh. No. That’s…that’s so creepy! But…what if..?’
They dont talk much on the walk to Wren’s house, but they stand just a little closer together. Both of them try to explain it away; ‘maybe he doesn’t notice.’ ‘Maybe she’s just cold’ ‘Surely not…’ but their fingers brush against each other just a couple times too many to call an accident.
“Well, I guess this is me!” Wren smiles up at her best friend as he walks her to her front door. She flaps her arms against her sides, a trait that drives Rowan absolutely NUTS with how much he loves it, and she gives him a quick hug goodbye. “Text me about that tux!!” She calls out as he walk away.
About three hours later…
Wren’s phone beeps, so she puts a bookmark in The Goblet of Fire. She pulls it out of her pocket and sprawls out on her bed. Her face lights up when she sees who the message is from.
Rowan 💕:
hey :)
Delivered 8:23pm
She furiously types her response. Three blocks away, Rowan, who’s been checking his phone every three seconds, finds a message.
Wren:
what’s up man? :3
Delivered 8:24pm
Nervously, he attaches the photo and writes out his message.
Rowan 💕:
Photo
found that tux ;P
Delivered 8:24pm
She opens the photo, and it’s a mirror selfie. Rowan’s wearing the tux and pulling the middle finger with the hand not holding his phone. She types out ‘Dear god you look incredible.’ She quickly deletes the message and instead types…
Wren:
heyyyy it suits u! Too bad all eyes r gonna be on me, because im gonna steal all ur spotlight ;3
Delivered 8:26pm
Rowan looks at the three dots that appear, then disappear, then appear again, getting increasingly nervous each time. Then the message comes through. God, he can’t even argue. He was with her at the social a few months ago, and holy shit she was stunning. He found himself sneaking glances at her the whole night; admiring the way the dress looked on her, and also, although he’s a little ashamed to admit it, how good she looked in the dress. He wants to respond, but can’t think of anything. Not anything worth saying anyway. He types one last message then drops his phone, and doesn’t stop staring at it for the next ten minutes.
Rowan 💕:
yea i guess ur right. Ur way prettier than me anyways. I gotta go now, but i’ll see u tmr! Gn wren ;D
Delivered 8:30pm
When Rowan’s last message comes through, Wren nearly has an aneurysm. “Did he just…did he just call me pretty?” she whispers to no one in particular. “He called me pretty!” she presses a pillow over her face and screams. Well, it’s more like a squeak of joy, because she doesn’t want her dad to come in.
To Be Continued!