The Academy

by Quinn Anderson

  “Hey, some of us take the Lord’s word very seriously.” Dante downed the drink in his hand and plunked the empty glass on the coffee table. “Don’t worry. That was water. I stopped drinking a couple of hours ago.”

  “How are you getting back to campus? Need me to call you a cab?”

  “Nah, I’m okay to drive. I’m going to take Theo’s drunk ass home.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at where Theo was talking to the remaining people in the living room, whom Sebastian recognized as the guys who lived down the hall. “I’ll try to get some water in him before he passes out. Wish me luck.”

  The neighbors broke away from Theo a moment later and waved goodbye as they headed for the door. Sebastian waved back and shouted something performative about doing this again soon, but his focus was on Theo, Dante, and Nick. The final countdown.

  Finished with his conversation, Theo wandered over. He stopped next to Dante and smiled knowingly at Nick. “You need a ride home too? We’re headed your way.”

  Sebastian groaned inside his head. Theo is so going to pay for that later.

  Nick coughed. “Uh, no, thanks. I’m going to stay for, um, a bit longer.”

  “Uh-huh.” Dante winked. “Get Sebastian to make you French toast in the morning. It’s his specialty.”

  “What’s that one charming phrase?” Sebastian tapped his chin. “Oh yeah. It’s ‘Get out of my house.’”

  Theo laughed. “It seems we’ve overstayed our welcome. C’mon, Dante.” He headed for the front door.

  Dante followed after, still grinning. “See you guys later.”

  They disappeared, leaving Nick and Sebastian finally alone.

  Nick turned to Sebastian on the couch. “You tired?”

  “No. You?”

  “No.”

  There was a pause. Sebastian wet his lips. “You know one thing we could do to wear ourselves out?”

  Nick’s eyes widened. “Build a fort out of couch cushions?”

  Sebastian, who was reaching for his drink, laughed so hard he couldn’t hold it. Nick joined him, and together they giggled like kids until Sebastian was out of breath.

  “Come on.” He climbed to his feet. “Grab your drink. I have an idea.”

  He led the way back to his bedroom. He listened for the sound of feet following behind him and didn’t relax until he heard Nick shuffle in. Then Sebastian made a beeline for the wardrobe across from his bed.

  “Um, Sebastian?” Nick was standing in the doorway, looking curious. “When you said we weren’t going to have sex tonight . . .”

  “I meant it.” Sebastian held up his drink and took a big gulp. “See? I may not have been drunk before, but I definitely am now. No more sex.”

  “Okay, I was just checking.” It might’ve been Sebastian’s imagination, but he thought Nick looked both relieved and disappointed as he kicked off his shoes and plopped onto Sebastian’s bed, cross-legged. “So, what’s the plan?”

  Sebastian opened the wardrobe, revealing a flat-screen TV. “I thought we’d watch a movie until we fall asleep.” He yanked on one of the bottom drawers, which was loaded with DVDs. “Sound good?”

  “Hm, watching a movie and cuddling on a Friday night. That sounds . . . domestic.” Nick grinned. “I like it.”

  They picked some action flick. Sebastian put it on, and after changing into sleep clothes similar to what he’d given Nick, he settled into bed. They pretended to sip their drinks and maintain some space between them for a solid ten minutes before Nick finally cracked and snuggled up to his side.

  Sebastian piled pillows around them and covered them with blankets. Soon, even the movie’s explosions couldn’t keep his eyes from closing. Nick’s head was on his shoulder, and with every breath, he could smell Nick’s hair. Just as Sebastian was drifting off, Nick spoke.

  “I’ve realized something.”

  Sebastian leaned back so he could glance at Nick. “What?”

  Instead of looking at him, Nick tilted his head back. His eyes landed on the painting of Chicago above Sebastian’s bed. “Did you paint that?”

  “I did. After spending a week there one summer with my mom. One of my few fond memories from high school. Why?”

  Nick was silent for a long moment. “The day we met, your eyes were the first thing I noticed about you.”

  Sebastian wasn’t exactly tracking this conversation, but he suspected Nick had a point. “I get that a lot.”

  “I really mean it, though.” Nick yawned and laid his head back down on Sebastian’s chest. “This is silly, but your eyes reminded me of something. I couldn’t think of what until I saw that painting. I loved growing up in Chicago. The city comes alive in the summer, but in my head, it’s always winter there. Icy and stark, with steely skies that make the skyscrapers blend into the clouds.

  “On the coldest days, when the streets were slick with sleet, and the wind was so harsh it burned, my dad would tell me knock-knock jokes to distract me. The worse the joke, the better.” Nick’s voice got quiet. “When I first looked at you, I saw Chicago. I saw home.”

  Sebastian was breathless. He’d never been so disappointed that he couldn’t see someone’s face. His first instinct was to tease Nick to diffuse the tension—call him cheesy or something—but he couldn’t do it. That was possibly the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to him. Despite lying perfectly still, his heart was pounding.

  He struggled to think of something to say back, but no words came. He waited so long, Nick must’ve drifted off, because he heard the deep sound of his breathing over the TV.

  Sebastian ended up snuggling closer to him, kissing the top of his head, and closing his eyes, though it was a long time before his racing pulse allowed him to sleep.

  Nick woke the next morning to sunshine heating his face. He opened his eyes gently, anticipating a hangover, and blinked the room into focus. It was much the same as last night, though thanks to the strong light pouring through the windows, Nick noticed details he hadn’t seen before: discarded shoes next to the closet, textbooks piled on the bureau, and single framed photo that was too far away for him to make out the subject.

  Sebastian was cuddled up to his side, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling evenly. In repose, his face was soft. He looked peaceful in a way he seldom did when he was awake. Or at least, when he was around Nick. Their interactions were always so . . . charged.

  Watching him sleep, Nick experienced an odd clash of emotions. Affection. Anticipation. Little hints of regret. Much as he wanted to lie back down in this warm bed and pretend everything was fine, he couldn’t.

  When he agreed to go to Sebastian’s party, he’d had no idea how much would change. He’d meant what he’d said last night: he liked the person Sebastian was when he dropped the act. But in the span of one afternoon, they’d argued, made up, argued again, and were now in some weird purgatory where they weren’t dating, but they were definitely something.

  Nick almost wanted to grab his clothes and sneak out so he could have some time to think before he talked to Sebastian again. There was so much to process. So much had happened in such a short time. There was no denying one thing, though. Somewhere along the way, Nick had begun to have feelings for Sebastian.

  That should have been a good thing, or just another part of life. Dating. Falling in love. Under normal circumstances, those things weren’t complicated. In Nick’s case, they were too frightening for words.

  After the emotional turmoil of the last year—the grief and upheaval and the loss of everything he knew—he didn’t think he could handle the thing that sometimes came after falling in love: heartbreak. He was still in such a fragile place, and his relationship with Sebastian was undeniably tumultuous.

  He’d let himself get swept up in the party and the excitement and Sebastian’s charm. He hadn’t asked himself an important question: Did he trust Sebastian not to hurt him?

  I wish I had more time to think.

  Extricating himself from the bed, Nick tiptoed
to Sebastian’s bathroom and slipped inside, closing the door as quietly behind him as he could. He went through his usual morning routine, skipping showering in favor of washing his face. He borrowed Sebastian’s deodorant and rubbed some toothpaste on his tongue. It was about as fresh as he was going to get in someone else’s bathroom.

  When he’d finished, he glanced at his reflection. He looked like a different person, partially thanks to the fact that he was wearing Sebastian’s clothes. His eyes were tired as they looked back at him. They reminded him of that first car ride to the Academy, what felt like years ago.

  Why couldn’t this have been simple? Why couldn’t I have met someone and fallen in love and had this one thing in my life that wasn’t a struggle? Dad, I wish I could talk to you. You’d know what to do.

  With a sigh, Nick crept back into the bedroom. Sebastian was still sleeping. Nick scrounged around for his clothes, brought them into the bathroom with him, and cleaned them as best he could with a damp washcloth. Then he put them on, leaving Sebastian’s sweats folded on the counter. After that, there was nothing left to do but pluck up his courage, wake Sebastian, and see how things went.

  Despite his trepidation, as Nick approached the bed, he smiled at the sight of Sebastian. Curled up in the sheets—his pale skin stark against them, and his hair splayed softly across his pillow—he looked like a black-and-white photograph.

  Miraculously, the shifting mattress didn’t wake Sebastian as Nick knelt next to him. Sebastian made a small, content noise, but his eyes stayed shut. Emotions swirled in Nick, from fondness to wariness, contributing to his increasing heart rate.

  It didn’t seem right to shake Sebastian awake after an intimate night of cuddling, so Nick went for a subtler approach. Bending down, Nick brushed his lips along the curve of Sebastian’s face until he reached his mouth. Then, he planted a gentle but firm kiss directly on his lips.

  Despite how soundly Sebastian had been sleeping before, at the touch, he shifted. He kissed Nick back without opening his eyes. “Mmm.”

  Nick pulled away. “Morning.”

  “Morning.” Sebastian rubbed his eyes with one hand, a smile creeping over his lips. “Can I hire you to be my alarm clock?”

  Nick laughed. “I’d be worried about some sort Pavlovian response. What if you jolted awake every time I kissed you?”

  As if cued by his words, Sebastian jerked his head up. “What?”

  “Nothing, not my best joke. Do you want to get some breakfast?”

  “You kissed me.” Sebastian touched his lips. His eyes were wide and wild as they stared at him. “You kissed me.” His tone suggested Nick had committed some kind of crime.

  Nick gave him a once-over. “We’ve kissed plenty of times.”

  “No, I’ve kissed you plenty of times. You’ve never initiated before.”

  Nick furrowed his brow. “Sebastian, I don’t think—”

  Sebastian crawled backward on the bed until he was as far from Nick as he could get. “Nick, I am so, so sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Everything.”

  Sebastian’s thoughts buzzed like an upended hive. He didn’t think he’d ever woken up so quickly or thoroughly before.

  I won the bet. I won Barbzilla. This whole thing can end right here and now, and then—and then—

  And then what? What was his next move?

  “Sebastian?”

  Nick was staring at him like he’d announced he intended to give up worldly possessions and become a monk, and Sebastian couldn’t blame him. This all must be so confusing. Hell, Sebastian was confused, and this whole convoluted plot was his doing.

  After all the times he could have kissed me and didn’t, why’d he have to do it now? Before I could come up with a plan?

  The easiest thing to do would be to tell him the truth—in its entirety, starting from the day they met—right now, and let the chips fall where they may. But that would also be the hardest thing to do.

  From the beginning, Nick had rejected every show of insincerity Sebastian had made. If Sebastian told Nick this had started as a bet, he’d lose him forever. Nick would never speak to him again, and everything they’d been through, the foundation they’d begun to build, would crumble away. Nick would never trust him again. He might even hate Sebastian, and Sebastian would have no one to blame but himself.

  What else could he do, then? Never tell Nick about the bet? Take that secret to the grave? Mentally, Sebastian shook his head. There was no way. Not only was that reprehensible, but Theo would never allow it. He considered Nick a friend. He’d tell him the truth, and then Nick would really hate him. For the lie, and for not having the decency to tell Nick himself.

  God, I am so fucked. Every chance I had to do the right thing, I ignored it, and now I’m out of chances. I set myself up to fail from the start. If only I’d somehow known the random new kid was going to turn out to be . . . to be . . .

  Sebastian’s eyes stung. A little choked sound escaped from his throat before he could stop it.

  “Sebastian?” Nick moved closer, lifting a hand to touch him. “Are you okay? You’re starting to freak me out.”

  Sebastian turned his back on him. He couldn’t look at Nick right now. “Hold on for a second. I have to . . . I have to think about something.”

  It was decision time. Options scrolled through his head at light speed. If he was fucked anyway, he could do it thoroughly and choose Barbzilla. He could call Theo right now and claim his prize. Nick would hear him and figure out what was going on, and he’d hate Sebastian forever. Sebastian labeled that plan C.

  He could tell Nick the truth and then beg for forgiveness. There was a chance Nick would forgive him, but it was so slim it was translucent. That was plan B, then.

  What if he called off the bet? Theo and Dante had offered to let him out of it before. They might agree to that again if he explained. Sebastian could turn back around, blame his weirdness on a lingering nightmare, and make Nick French toast before coaxing him back into bed. They could start over. Date. Be happy.

  But no, that would be the same as never telling Nick about it. He couldn’t pretend for the rest of his life.

  The rest of your life. Is that how long you want to be with Nick?

  Holy shit, he was the world’s biggest fuckup. He’d lived up to his heartbreaker reputation yet again. This was who he was. The party guy who’d never been in love before, the one who used men and then tossed them away. The emotionally stunted asshole who knew nothing about love, and it was obvious to everyone who met him.

  How had he ever thought he could do this? Be in a normal, healthy relationship with a guy he genuinely cared for? Of course he’d fucked it up. That was all he ever did.

  Maybe this is for the best. If it wasn’t the bet, it would have been something else. You would have found another way to ruin things. You don’t know how to be in a relationship. It’s better this is ending now, before things got serious.

  At least he’d get Barbzilla out of this. With perfect clarity, he understood that the trophy had no real-world value whatsoever. But to Sebastian, it meant something. It meant he came from somewhere.

  When the house he grew up in became someone else’s house, and he graduated from college and moved away, and Theo and Dante had their own lives going on—the only people who’d loved him no matter how badly he fucked up—at least he’d have that. Proof that there had been a time when he’d had a family. When he’d looked forward with hope instead of back with regret.

  Nick was mercifully quiet as Sebastian muddled his way through this paradigm shift. Coldness washed over him as a plan A began to take shape in his head, stealing bits and pieces from the others and cobbling them together. It was a mangled horror worthy of Dr. Frankenstein, but it was what Sebastian had to do.

  He’d tell Nick what he needed to hear.

  Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he plucked his phone off the nightstand and found Theo’s name in his contacts. It only rang twice b
efore Theo answered.

  “Hey, Sebby. What’s up?”

  For the first time in Sebastian’s life, he didn’t correct him.

  “I won.” His voice cracked. “I won the bet. I got Nick to kiss me.”

  “What?” Theo sounded both confused and horrified. He said something else, but Sebastian’s ears were ringing.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ll drop by your dorm to pick up Barbzilla on Monday before class. We can talk then.” He hung up the phone.

  Silence followed in the wake of the call. Sebastian became hyperaware of the lack of motion behind him. Perhaps Nick was frozen with shock. Perhaps he was processing, trying to fit the pieces of the conversation into a picture that made sense.

  This was it. The moment of truth.

  “Theo, Dante, and I made a bet at the beginning of the year.” Sebastian didn’t look behind him as he talked. “It was an old favorite of ours from high school. Since we’ve known pretty much all our classmates since grade school, whenever there was an interesting new kid, we’d bet to see who could kiss him first. It sounds childish, I know, but we were bored, and you know what they say: kids are mean.”

  He paused, praying Nick would interrupt so he could stop. Nick didn’t. There was no sound from behind him whatsoever.

  Sebastian continued. “As I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, you were the subject of our bet. It wasn’t enough for me to kiss you, though. You had to initiate. I had to make you want to kiss me. That’s why I approached you that first day. That’s why I pursued you so relentlessly. I would have done anything to win, and now I have.”

  There were ways Sebastian could explain this that would make him sound less terrible. He knew there were, and yet he wasn’t using them. If anything, he was going out of his way to play up the awfulness of it. Why?

  Because you deserve this. After everything you’ve done, you deserve to have Nick hate you forever.

  He took a breath. “You saw through me from the beginning, and instead of letting it go, I did everything I could to get you to like me. I told you things about me that I’ve never told anyone. But it wasn’t real. It was all because I wanted to win the bet. I lied to you so many times and in so many ways. I can’t ask you to forgive me or to trust me ever again.”