"I can't say I'm too surprised. You've always been an easy read," Tommo admitted, spreading his legs out on the ground now that I had finally loosened my grip. Spending a good chunk of my Friday night crying into the guy's chest had not been my plan, but something inside of me had broken down and needed to vent to someone. "I thought we'd be in college before you admitted it if I'm being honest."

"Fuck you, how did I make it obvious?"

"The weird sexual energy between you and Clark," he ticked off. "Quitting the swim team after Derek Martin asked you out–"

"He didn't ask me out," I shoved Tommo's shoulder, the guy sending me a disbelieving look. "And I didn't quit for him, I quit because I sucked and no longer needed the extra credit."

"He practically propositioned you in the changing rooms. Asking if you wanted to study biology at his place... on a Friday night. How clueless are you?"

"Apparently very clueless if you managed to pick up on the fact I was gay before I did."

"And what did you think your feelings for Clark were then?" he asked, expression open and I sighed, shrugging.

"I just thought I was in love with my best friend. I only realized I was actually gay a little while ago," I admitted and the chill that ran down my spine finally saying those words out loud, for the third time that night, still hadn't gone away.

"When you guys kissed?"

I blinked up at Tommo, surprised. "How do you know that?"

"Moody Clark is chatty, I don't think he even realized the slip-up," Tommo said, resting back on his palms.

"You're cool with this?"

Casting me a side-eyed glare Tommo nodded. "I wouldn't have stayed friends with you all these years if I weren't."

"Was it really that obvious? Why did no one say anything?"

Another look. "Everyone said something, you just never pay attention. Plus people are scared of you, believe it or not. If not for Thomas, then for the fact you're kind of fucking crazy."

"Gee, thanks,"

"Only you would blindly follow someone to the point of breaking into a teachers house," Tommo remarked and I flushed. "That is some lower tier Manson kind of worship."

"Fuck off," I laughed, shoving Tommo hard enough to list him over and onto the concrete.

"People asked me a lot what the deal was with you," Tommo said, fidgeting slightly.

"Yeah?"

"Girls were really into you sophomore year. I couldn't go a day in the hall without people stopping me and asking if you were single, or why you weren't dating. I lied that there was a girl at another school you liked, or you were focused on classes."

"Thanks, man," I said, never realizing how much Tommo had stuck up for me. "I used to get asked the same shit about you."

"I know," Tommo smirked.

"Okay, we get it. You know you're hot."

"Am I?"

"I'm not feeding your ego," I said, hugging my knees and resting my chin on top of them. "Apparently I have a type."

"And that is?"

"Guys with girlfriends," I groaned, dropping my forehead down and Tommo laughed.

"That is a little problematic."

"Very problematic," I mumbled back.

"You know Clark will never admit that he likes you back, right?" Tommo added, concerned.

"I'm starting to piece that together, though the idea doesn't hurt as much as it used to. I gave up on him after we made out and he invited me to have dinner with Jessica straight after."

"Fuck," Tommo sighed, throwing his head back. "He's such a fucking moron."

"I got my closure at the party at least." I shrugged and Tommo nodded.

"I didn't finish my list of how you made it obvious, at least to me."

"Go on then, make me feel worse," I said, waving for him to continue and Tommo smiled, all teeth.

"The defensiveness."

"How do you mean?"

"There's 'no homo' and then there is you. You'd get cagey every time someone beside Clark made a joke about it, or straight up redirect the conversation. I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen you actually laugh it off, not including now."

"So I was a clear closet case from the get-go, without even having a chance to realize I was in the closet in the first place. Great, Tommo."

"Not a– never mind, let's move to point four because you're doing it right now."

"How many points are there?" I groaned, pressing hard into my knees when Tommo laughed.

"Alright, alright. I'll shorten the list to just this last one," he promised. "Spencer."

"Dramatic, care to elaborate."

"I don't need to, I have a feeling you know exactly what I mean." At my silence, he continued. "From the minute I caught you glaring the guy down at the deli all those months ago I just knew something was going on. You'd never looked at someone who wasn't Clark with such intensity.

"And then when I caught you guys talking in the library, that weird energy was still there yet he kept coming back, and every day I would watch you fumble over your words, make oddly sexual remarks about him that caught everyone off guard, by the way, you need to work on your flirting because Jesus.

"It was the puppy dog look you got when he was late to meet us at our table, how you'd always smile when you made out his head in the hallway. Hell on your birthday you texted him that you missed him and wished he'd been there. You're also awful at stealth texting, anyone could've read your screen by the way. I could go on but the panicked look in your eyes is telling me to shut up."

I hadn't even realized I snapped my head back up at Tommo's words, though the dryness around my eyes told me I had been staring without blinking for far too long. Rubbing them, I swallowed hard, turning fully to face Tommo.

"Do you think he knows?" I asked.

"That you like him?"

"I only figured that out tonight. How long do you think he's known? Is that why he refused to kiss me? Did I make things weird? Why do I always make things weird, man?"

"Slow the spiraling," Tommo said, shooting a hand out to shake my shoulder. "I don't think he knows you like him. I could pick that up because I've had to look at your ugly mug for over a decade now. I think he knows there's weird sexual tension, because even Ms. Jenning could sense it and was worried you'd start going at it against the encyclopedias."

"Graphic."

"I'm just saying unless the guys a little lost on you too, he won't chalk it up to more than awkward tension. Probably just brush it off. What makes you like him anyway?"

I fumbled for a minute at the question, realizing just how little about Spencer I knew. God, I didn't even know if he had any fucking siblings let alone what he wanted to do after high school ended.

"I'm such an asshole," I muttered, rubbing my face.

"Yes, but what specifically makes you say that?"

"I know nothing about the guy. All this time I never bothered to ask him questions about anything."

"Well, you aren't exactly known for your selflessness," Tommo chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, maybe falling in love with the guy before learning his last name was a bad idea."

"I know that much at least."

"You've seen his paintings, right?" Tommo asked and I furrowed my brow.

"Spencer paints?"

Now Tommo was the one gaping.

"You need to reassess your idea of love," he scolded me, getting to his feet. I followed suit.

"I never said I loved him."

"Well then, I don't think I can class what you're feeling for him as anything more than lust for the guy. You don't even know the most obvious thing about him." Tommo frowned.

"I've taken every step backward, haven't I?"

"For all the time you spend staring at his hands the fact you failed to notice his constant state of Painted On boggles my mind."

"I always wondered about that..." I trailed off, embarrassed when Tommo threw his head back in aspiration.

"But in true repressed fashion, you never asked the guy."

"Why don't you date Spencer if you know so much about him then?" I huffed back, crossing my arms.

"I don't run that way. But maybe it's time to pull the brakes on this infatuation. His girlfriend seems sweet and they look happy," Tommo admitted, voice soft.

"You met Gillian then?"

Tommo scratched the back of his neck, smiling. "We bumped into each other by the snack table, and Spencer had told me bits and pieces."

"You really do talk to him more than I do," I said, frowning slightly.

"Because I actually stop him in the halls and talk to him. I ask about his life rather than just stare at him." Tommo said and I shoved his shoulder.

"I don't just stare at him, we talk," I scoffed and Tommo laughed, shoving me back.

"Trust me, I've heard the conversations. He also brings you up a lot, don't worry."

"He talks about you too," I replied as Tommo dropped down to retie his laces. "We have a running joke that he stalks you."

"Cute," Tommo said dryly, nudging my bike with his foot as he stood upright again. "You need to fix the chain, it looks seconds away from snapping."

"Yeah I know," I frowned down at it.

"Maybe learning more about Spencer will deter you from liking him anymore," Tommo offered then elaborated at my confused look. "You'll realize he's kind of boring, your sex drive for him will die, and we can all laugh about this in ten years."

"Maybe," I shrugged back, picking up the bike and wincing at just how rusted the chain looked up close. "He does read classic lit."

"Which means he's smarter than you. At least Clark's almost flunking English, making you the smart one."

"Fuck you," I laughed, hopping on. "And thanks, by the way."

"I'm guessing your parents don't know yet," he redirected, brushing off my appreciation.

"No," I said, looking down at my leg still on the ground. "But I'm starting to think they might. Thomas said something weird earlier that's tipped me off that they all might know that I'm gay already."

"Call me if anything happens. My Dad can come pick you up and you can crash at our place," Tommo said and I smiled.

"I will man, but we should head out since it's almost three in the morning."

Tommo gestured for me to go ahead. "Lead the way, Elton."

"No gay jokes," I warned him and Tommo raised his hands.

"No gay jokes, got it."

"How was the dance by the way?" I asked a few minutes into the walk. By then my hands had stopped sweating enough that the bike no longer listed to the side and Tommo's worried look had melted into his usual expression of thoughtful of, yet mildly bored by, everything around him. He shoved his hands in his pocket, barely flinching at the cold as we crossed the road, pondering my question.

"Boring," He decided on, pausing to watch as a stray cat waltzed on beside us. "Music was awful as usual, nobody spiked the punch, though, which surprised me. Even Clark didn't try anything too sketchy this year. Vice Principal Rose's shoe got stuck in the grass when she tried to chase us, that was funny at least. She went down like a sack of bricks, the ground literally shook with the force of her."

"Shit, kind of sad I missed that," I chuckled, gripping the handlebars and braking hard when the cat cut in front of me. "Jesus, that thing has a death wish."

"Don't call it a thing," Tommo scolded, bowing down and pulling the cat into his arms. His pure mass dwarfed the cat, its brown and white spotted head nestled in the crook of his elbow looked more like a miniature chocolate chip cookie than anything else.

"Forgot you're a justice warrior for stray animals," I taunted, continuing on as Tommo rubbed the cats head before depositing it onto a nearby stoop.

"Anyway," Tommo drawled, shoving his hands back into his pockets. "I spent most of the night on my ass since Cleo didn't want to dance, at all."

"Cleo Marko?"

"Cleo Jensen."

"Nice," I replied back, filing away that I was an awful friend yet again for not even knowing who Tommo went to the dance with in the first place.

"She's a nice girl," Tommo added, forcing back a smile as he glanced down. "One slow dance would've been cool, though."

"Look at you," I chided, cycling close enough to bump his shoulder. "Never thought I'd see the day you, Theodore Moore, would be smitten."

"Shut up," he smiled back, but didn't deny it. "Got to see Spencer's dance moves, they were a little painful but he and Gillian looked like they were having fun. Both left early so I never got to say hello."

I smiled back at the image, staring down at my handlebars. "Good. I'm glad he had a good time."

I startled when Tommo clapped my shoulder, bike buckling under me nervously.

"It'll all pan out. Okay?"

Nodding back, I ran a quick hand through my hair, only mildly disappointed when I remembered how short it was. "Yeah, it will."

"You'll be okay?"

"Of course."

Tommo moved to stand in front of me, gripping the handlebars so that I had to break, forcing eye contact.

Earnest, he cocked a brow. "Promise me you'll be okay?"

"Jesus Tommo–" I started but stopped short at his hard look.

Rubbing my nose with my sleeve I nodded, staring back at his softening expression.

"I promise I'll be okay."