Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

the best pack out there!! 

Liam: captainamerica  

Mason: avocadon   

Corey: corneliuss 

Hayden: hayday 

Scott: wolfywolf 

Stiles: onlybraincell 

Lydia: fashionlydia 

Allison: tslovergirll

Malia: mathater 

Kira: hellokira 

Thursday, 7th of March

[2:36 am] onlybraincell: what animal do u guys think i’d be

[2:36 am] onlybraincell: please don’t say cockroach

[2:53 am] fashionlydia: stiles please go to sleep i need to preserve the last shreds of my sanity 

[2:54 am] onlybraincell: can’t im having existential crisis

[2:54 am] fashionlydia: nothing new then bye

[2:55 am] onlybraincell: rude???? 

[2:55 am] wolfywolf: stiles go to sleep it’s three am 

[2:55 am] onlybraincell: only if you answer my very important question

[2:56 am] wolfywolf: ugh

[2:56 am] mathater: u’d be a cockroach now let us sleep

[2:57 am] onlybraincell: why is everyone rude what did i ever do to you???

[2:57 am] wolfywolf: do you want an answer from me or malia? 

[2:58 am] onlybraincell: this is emotional abuse i hate yall im blocking 

[2:58 am] mathater: thank god

[2:59 am] fashionlydia: thank god

[2:59 am] wolfywolf: thank god

[3:01 am] avocadon: thank god

[3:02 am] tslovergirll: thank god 

[3:02 am] hayday: thank god 

[3:04 am] captainamerica: thank god

[3:05 am] hellokira: thank god

[3:05 am] onlybraincell: yall dont even believe in god

[3:06 am] corneliuss: thank god 

[3:06 am] onlybraincell: i hope you all choke

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[9:12 am] hayday: i hate this class so much

[9:12 am] hayday: someone come and rescue me

[9:14 am] captainamerica: you uncultured brat how can you say this

[9:14 am] captainamerica: history is lit the best class

[9:15 am] avocadon: omg brat💚

[9:15 am] tslovergirll: omg brat!💚

[9:16 am] fashionlydia: brat💚💚

[9:16 am] mathater: what are you guys on

[9:16 am] mathater: also im with hayden on this one

[9:16 am] mathater: history sucks almost as much as math

[9:17 am] captainamerica: you guys dont get it

[9:17 am] captainamerica: it's literally so important

[9:17 am] captainamerica: it's all about knowing what happens in the past so you dont repeat the same mistakes

[9:18 am] hayday: i dont give a shit abt old men!! hope this helps💕

[9:18 am] onlybraincell: yeah bc mankind is well known for learning from past mistakes

[9:18 am] captainamerica: where tf did u come from

[9:18 am] onlybraincell: im always lurking around the corner, sweetie 

[9:19 am] avocadon: liam man chill 

[9:19 am] captainamerica: i cant in front of your blatant and painful ignorance 

[9:19 am] onlybraincell: woah big words

[9:20 am] captainamerica: stfu cockroach 

[9:21 am] avocadon: guys stfu mr. yukimura is gonna notice 

[9:21 am] captainamerica: i dont ca

[9:21 am] captainamerica: As much as I appreciate your concern in defending this subject, Liam, I would appreciate more if you and your peers paid attention to my lesson!

[9:22 am] hayday: oops

[9:22 am] avocadon: oops sorry man 

[9:23 am] corneliuss: what happened 

[9:23 am] fashionlydia: get off your phones omg

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[3:45 pm] wolfywolf: where tf are u guys

[3:45 pm] onlybraincell: coach is permanently damaging my nervous system get ur asses on the field 

[3:45 pm] corneliuss: srry running a bit late!!

[3:45 pm] captainamerica: there in five mins!!!

[3:46 pm] onlybraincell: HES MAKING US RUN EXTRA LAPS

[3:46 pm] onlybraincell: LIAM EUGENE DUNBAR

[3:46 pm] onlybraincell: CORNELIUS BRYANT

[3:46 pm] onlybraincell: GET YOUR FUCKING ASSES ON THE FIELD RIGHT NOW

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[6:21 pm] fashionlydia: [photo]

[6:21 pm] fashionlydia: [photo]

[6:22 pm] tslovergirll: i am so using this as blackmail

[6:22 pm] wolfywolf: oh yes totally 

[6:23 pm] onlybraincell: DONT YOU DARE 

[6:23 pm] captainamerica: NO LYDIA NO

[6:23 pm] captainamerica: DELETE THAT NOW

[6:23 pm] fashionlydia: nuh uh xx

[6:24 pm] onlybraincell: ur supposed to love me not publicly harass me

[6:24 pm] fashionlydia: but where’s the fun in that?

[6:24 pm] hayday: oh this is gold

[6:24 pm] hayday: lydia i love u

[6:25 pm] avocadon: [photo]

[6:25 pm] avocadon: [photo]

[6:25 pm] captainamerica: STOP

[6:25 pm] captainamerica: YOU DIRTY TRAITOR 

[6:26 pm] corneliuss: LMFAOAOAOAOAO

[6:26 pm] hayday: HELP UR FACE IM SOBBING

[6:26 pm] captainamerica: I HAD SEVERE BRAIN FREEZE FUCK OFF

[6:26 pm] hayday: u certainly have severe lack of brain cells now

[6:27 pm] captainamerica: stfu u literally snorted juice out of ur nose

[6:27 pm] hayday: at least i looked good while doing it

[6:27 pm] corneliuss: she does have a point

[6:28 pm] hellokira: [photo]

[6:28 pm] hellokira: [photo]

[6:28 pm] hellokira: [photo]

[6:28 pm] onlybraincell: NOT YOU TOO

[6:28 pm] wolfywolf: NO THATS JUST EVIL STOP 

[6:29 pm] tslovergirll: I LITERALLY CANNOT BREATHE HELPPDKFVDKSJVIN

[6:29 pm] mathater: [photo]

[6:29 pm] wolfywolf: STOP THIS PLEASE

[6:29 pm] tslovergirll: NO WHEN DID U TAKE THAT

[6:30 pm] mathater: no one is safe<3

[6:30 pm] hellokira: [photo]

[6:30 pm] hayday: WHAT IS THIS

[6:30 pm] hayday: I DO NOT RECALL MAKING THAT FACE

[6:31 pm] captainamerica: WHO LOOKS GOOD NOW HUH???

[6:31 pm] hayday: SHUT UP SHUT UP

[6:31 pm] hellokira: [photo]

[6:31 pm] hellokira: [photo]

[6:31 pm] avocadon: THIS IS NOT FUNNY 

[6:31 pm] corneliuss: THIS IS DIABOLICAL KIRA STOP 

[6:32 pm] fashionlydia: [photo] 

[6:32 pm] onlybraincell: it doesnt count if u make yourself look bad

[6:32 pm] corneliuss: bold of u to assume that they look bad 

[6:32 pm] hellokira: ig we’re just that cool 🤷‍♀️

[6:32 pm] avocadon: this is unfair on an unspeakable level 

[6:32 pm] mathater: cry about it xx

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[11:33 pm] wolfywolf: ready for the first game of the season??

[11:33 pm] wolfywolf: woohoo!! we’ll do great!!!

[11:35 pm] onlybraincell: man please spare us this horrible version of a pep talk im getting a strong second hand embarrassment just by reading it

[11:36 pm] captainamerica: dont do this to us coach is already terrible enough 

[11:36 pm] wolfywolf: but im the captain its supposed to be my job

[11:36 pm] corneliuss: change job please

[11:37 pm] tslovergirll: your job is to study with me right now

[11:37 pm] tslovergirll: get off ur phone

[11:38 pm] onlybraincell: ewww get a roommm

[11:38 pm] tslovergirll: i would but this idiot is focused on you and your pep talks

[11:38 pm] fashionlydia: you’ll all do great tmr and we’ll come and see you but please now stop flooding the gc

[11:39 pm] tslovergirll: i second this!! 

[11:39 pm] mathater: i third this yall are giving me a headache

[11:40 pm] wolfywolf: goodbye i was just being nice

[11:40 pm] wolfywolf: im using this as my villain origin story 

[11:40 pm] fashionlydia: scott go study

[11:40 pm] fashionlydia: i can hear allison’s brain cells rioting from here 

[11:41 pm] tslovergirll: thank you bbg

[11:41 pm] tslovergirll: im THIS close to murdering him 🥰

[11:42 pm] wolfywolf: if i die i leave all my belongings to liam

[11:42 pm] wolfywolf: loved you man 

[11:43 pm] captainamerica: ty ily too bro xx

[11:43 pm] onlybraincell: i hope allison murders you

[11:43 pm] onlybraincell: ungrateful bitch

[11:44 pm] wolfywolf: ❤️

[11:44 pm] mathater: if i get ONE other notification im personally coming over to each of your houses and killing you

[11:45 pm] wolfywolf: sorry x

[11:45 pm] onlybraincell: sorry x

[11:45 pm] tslovergirll: why do both of you have a death wish??

[11:45 pm] onlybraincell: well technically it was two notifications 

[11:46 pm] fashionlydia: why do we still keep up with you

[11:46 pm] tslovergirll: i ask myself the same thing every day

[11:46 pm] mathater: because murder is illegal is my go to answer

[11:46 pm] captainamerica: i wonder too 

[11:47 pm] onlybraincell: stfu you infant

[11:47 pm] captainamerica: ur literally like six months older than me 

[11:47 pm] onlybraincell: seven actually 

[11:47 pm] captainamerica: see its not even a full year

[11:47 pm] onlybraincell: still born in the year before so stfu

[11:47 pm] onlybraincell: and yall dont act as if we dont make your bland ass lives extraordinary 

[11:48 pm] fashionlydia: who lied to you

[11:48 pm] captainamerica: ouch

[11:48 pm] mathater: im blocking everyone 

[11:49 pm] hayday: i just got out my popcorn please keep going

[11:49 pm] corneliuss: i just fell down the stairs  

[11:49 pm] corneliuss: but im always down for a dissing

[11:50 pm] hellokira: real can we bring back 2017 dissing

[11:50 pm] hayday: i honestly love how kira randomly spans out of nowhere

[11:50 pm] hellokira: i was focused on the convo my bad

[11:50 pm] fashionlydia: my dissing era never ended

[11:50 pm] hayday: icon 

[11:51 pm] corneliuss: FUCK

[11:51 pm] corneliuss: can someone lend me bio notes i cant find mine

[11:51 pm] captainamerica: bold of u to assume i take notes in bio

[11:52 pm] hayday: i cant even remember the last time i opened my bio book

[11:52 pm] corneliuss: thats cuz ur a fucking genius somehow 

[11:52 pm] corneliuss: ugh u guys are useless 

[11:52 pm] hayday: aww thank uu

[11:52 pm] captainamerica: mase has them i think 

[11:52 pm] captainamerica: @avocadon 

[11:52 pm] captainamerica: @avocadon 

[11:52 pm] captainamerica: @avocadon 

[11:52 pm] captainamerica: @avocadon 

[11:52 pm] captainamerica: @avocadon 

[11:52 pm] captainamerica: @avocadon 

[11:53 pm] captainamerica: @avocadon 

[11:53 pm] avocadon: tf u want 

[11:53 pm] corneliuss: can u lend me bio notes plsplsplsplsplsplspls 

[11:53 pm] corneliuss: if i get another c ill fail plsplsplsplsplspls

[11:54 pm] avocadon: ughhh fineeee

[11:54 pm] avocadon: [photo]

[11:54 pm] avocadon: [photo]

[11:54 pm] avocadon: [photo]

[11:55 pm] avocadon: [photo]

[11:55 pm] onlybraincell: man ur handwriting is tinier than lydia

[11:55 pm] onlybraincell: how do u people read it 

[11:55 pm] captainamerica: desperate times call for desperate measures and all

[11:55 pm] corneliuss: thank u ily ur my savior ilysm 

[11:56 pm] avocadon: what would u do without me

[11:56 pm] corneliuss: probably end up dead in a ditch

[11:57 pm] onlybraincell: liam does that regardless 

[11:57 pm] captainamerica: im suing u for cyberbullying 

[11:58 pm] onlybraincell: do you even know how to do it 

[11:58 pm] hayday: i wasn’t even sure he could spell cyberbullying

[11:58 pm] captainamerica: fuck u all

[11:58 pm] captainamerica: from the very bottom of my heart

[11:58 pm] captainamerica: fuck u all

[11:59 pm] mathater: stop over stimulating his one brain cell so much

[11:59 pm] mathater: u’ll break him 

[12:00 am] captainamerica: oh my god

[12:00 am] captainamerica: im leaving

[12:00 am] onlybraincell: isnt it past ur bedtime anyway

[12:01 am] captainamerica: im coming over to ur house

[12:01 am] onlybraincell: u shouldn’t be out this late

[12:01 am] mathater: hes right its dangerous outside

[12:01 am] mathater: especially for children

[12:02 am] captainamerica: can someone back me up???

[12:02 am] captainamerica: im getting relentlessly bullied 

[12:03 am] hayday: too busy enjoying the show xx

[12:03 am] onlybraincell: relentlessly??

[12:03 am] onlybraincell: did you swallow a whole dictionary this morning??

[12:03 am] captainamerica: WHY DOES EVERYONE THINK IM STUPID

[12:04 am] avocadon: do you really want the answer to that

[12:04 am] hayday: i doubt ur ego could take it

[12:04 am] corneliuss: …

[12:04 am] onlybraincell: …

[12:05 am] mathater: …

[12:05 am] fashionlydia: …

[12:05 am] captainamerica: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

[12:06 am] captainamerica: im going to bed goodnight

[12:06 am] captainamerica: i hope u all have nightmares

[12:09 am] hellokira: goodnight im sleeping too

[12:09 am] fashionlydia: goodnight bbg x

[12:09 am] tslovergirll: goodnight sleep well girl xx

[12:09 am] mathater: goodnight ily xxx

[12:09 am] wolfywolf: goodnighttt bae xx

[12:09 am] onlybraincell: goodnightt xxxx

[12:10 am] hayday: sweet dreams girl xx

[12:10 am] avocadon: night girlie xx

[12:10 am] corneliuss: goodnight kira xx

[12:11 am] captainamerica: die

-------------                                                                                                                        

Liam sets down his phone on his desk and huffs out something intelligible, shaking his head at his friends’ antics. 

He would like to pretend he’s at least a bit annoyed by the obviously targeted and relentless bullying he suffered throughout the day, but he knows his friends well enough to know that all of that is just their way of having conversations, no intentions in actually hurting his feelings or ego. (Which is absolutely not fragile, thank you, Hayden.)

He runs a hand through his already disheveled hair, his fingers painfully pulling at the knots that have formed during the intense study session of that evening, and glances once again at the terrible mess of books and notes scattered on his desk. 

As much as he did try to split the study material throughout the whole week leading to the test, even using his free periods for something useful for once instead of wasting his time playing games on his phone or chatting with one of his friends, he still finds himself worried to death with a stressing amount of gaps in his knowledge the night before said dreaded test. 

He keeps staring at the colored pages of his open textbook, running his tired eyes over the highlighted sentences and formulas that still make no sense to him, for how much he tries to focus on the letters and numbers.

Partly covered by balled up papers and various inkless pens, copies of Mason and Lydia’s neatly written notes lie next to his own, the stark difference between the precise and font-like handwriting of his friends and his chicken scrawl taking up various pages. 

Math has always been a hard topic for him, since long before those stupid letters started to flood his textbooks, looking like hieroglyphs among the already confusing series of numbers that still get him to clutch his head in his hands as he works his brain out in an attempt to figure out the terrible crime committed in his past life that made him so deserving of such torture. 

If he had to be honest about his opinion on the subject, he would very honestly admit that he thinks all those weird formulas are a clear and blatant abuse of his and his peers’ nervous system, as well as his patience, which is currently running very low. 

Rubbing his eyes with his palms roughly enough to hurt, in the vain hope of slightly easing the tiredness that has slowly settled in every part of his body, he grabs his phone again and connects it to the charger on the bedside table, almost tripping on the carpet in the motion. 

Liam sighs and flops down on his bed, kicking the blanket out of the way before feeling a shiver run down his spine and crunching to cover himself from head to toe, pulling the soft dotted blanket up to his nose and burrowing his face in the pillow. 

He’s aware of the fact that he should study way more than he did, but he also knows that if he sits for one more minute at that desk he’s going to do things he will regret, and he thinks that setting his books and notes on fire isn’t one of his most amazing ideas yet. 

As he shifts and rolls in his bed to find the most comfortable position, finding his old teddy named “Jam” burrowed under the duvet in the meanwhile (don’t question five year old Liam’s wonderful naming skills, thank you very much), he wonders if jumping from his bedroom window on the first floor could possibly cause enough damage to let him skip school the following day, but given the fact that his mom sends him to school even with a boiling fever, he doesn’t doubt a sprained ankle or a broken wrist would cause much of an issue for her. 

With one last burst of the little energy left inside of him, he blindly grabs his phone from the nightstand and sets an early alarm, squinting his eyes to adapt to the sudden burst of light clouding his vision, knowing future him will despise him but also being aware that fifteen minutes of added study will only do good to his already terrifying grades. 

Considering both the amount of worrying thoughts circling in his head, mostly caused by the upcoming test, and the bubbly excitement running through his veins, Liam thinks it takes him relatively little time to fall into the quiet comfort of his darkened room and finally give in to a moderately peaceful night of well deserved sleep, but he guesses that’s probably because of his severe need of a decent sleep schedule that won’t leave him dead on his feet the following day. 

Chapter Text

Friday, 8th of March

The second Liam opens his eyes, he wishes he hadn't. 

The sun is slowly peeking out from the thick barrier of clouds outside his window, the wind in that unusually freezing day rustling through the trees, forcing Liam to peel the duvet from where it was covering his whole head and slowly start to get up. 

Squinting at the sudden burst of light and mentally cursing his past self for not shutting the blinds, Liam reaches for his phone - almost pushing it off the nightstand - and turns off the alarm that was currently trying to make his brain implode. 

Violently blinking in the attempt to get rid of the groggy feeling that has taken a hold of his whole body, he rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands until his vision goes dark and spotty, groaning at the incessant pounding in his head. 

The following minutes, several minutes, are a hazy blur in his mind, during which he mindlessly gets dressed - picking the first clothes in his closet he lays his eyes on - brushes his teeth, and finally sits at his desk like a prisoner on death row. 

He slowly goes through each and every one of the notes on his desk, revising formulas and reciting them like a poem until he feels sick just by looking at the pages, wondering if all this will be worth it once it’s just him and the test and a thousand million thoughts. 

When his stepdad's quiet steps can be heard approaching his room, echoing in the dead silent hall until his knocks on the wooden door shake Liam out of his worried trance, he couldn’t be more grateful. 

“Do you need a ride to school?” David asks in his usual soft tone that always manages to sound so comforting to Liam, and if the chuckle that escapes the man is anything to go by, Liam guesses that his accepting nod in response to the offer had to be really eager. 

“Five minutes and I’m ready,” Liam replies, giving one last suffering glance at the textbook and notes - even though he feels as if his head will explode right there and then if he stays one more minute - before finally shoving them in his backpack and leaving the room. 

He’s not sure if it’s his poker face that has become unconvincing all of a sudden or his stepdad that simply doesn’t buy his shit, but when Liam steps in the car and buckles up, his  stepdad’s face delivers the message clearly. 

“What is it?” the man asks, his brows slightly furrowed in worry as his dark eyes scan Liam’s pale face. 

“Just a headache,” Liam reassures him, shaking his head and shrugging slightly to make him seem more sincere - or at least that’s what he hopes it looks like. 

David simply squints at him with his doctor eyes in response, his scrutinizing gaze still heavy on Liam’s frame.

Listen, he is trying to seem at least a tiny bit convincing, he’s really trying - but maybe he’s betting too much on that drama class he took back in seventh grade, or maybe he can’t stand to be under his stepdad’s inspecting eyes that makes him feel as if he’s lying on a cold surgery table. 

After a couple of minutes that feel like a whole eternity to Liam, David finally starts the car and pulls out of the garage, his quiet driving interrupted here and there by a quick glance at the passenger seat. 

Next to him, Liam cradles his backpack as if it’s his firstborn and almost falls asleep again, softly lulled by the sound of the town all around him and the low but constant flowy music coming from whatever radio station his stepdad has picked. 

They don’t speak for the majority of the short drive, with David bobbing his head along the song currently playing that Liam doesn’t recognise and him trying his best to keep his eyes open, but it’s not a stilted or awkward type of silence.

It’s the type of silence that doesn’t leave Liam questioning if he did something wrong that he just can’t seem to recall, the type of silence that doesn’t make wariness settle uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach.

Instead, he leaves him calm and at ease - for how calm and at ease he can possibly be in that moment - like when he knows he can relax and get comfortable, the atmosphere not ruined in any way by the lack of a flowing conversation. 

Obviously, that is until David finally pulls into his school’s parking lot and Liam is back with his usual sense of mild anxiety that follows him throughout the day, this time only increased by the upcoming test. 

“Will you tell me why you’re acting like this?” David starts, “Or do I have to pretend you’re totally fine?” He continues when Liam tries to open his mouth.

“I’m good, really. I just have a test and I’m a tiny bit scared,” Liam answers, bringing his thumb and index close together to help his stepdad understand what he means by “tiny bit”. (And by the way, he totally isn’t much more worried, really.) (And he’s also totally not a liar, by any means.) 

“Mhm. I’m sure you’ll do great. What subject is it?” His stepdad asks, checking his watch in the meantime to check how much time he has left until Melissa starts freaking out. 

“Math.” Liam replies with a grimace, scrunching up his nose at the mere thought of the subject. That awaits him in first period. Fuck. Fuck .

“Ouch-” David agrees, sharing Liam’s expression, but before he can add anything else to his very comforting comment, Liam frantically opens the car door and bolts out.  

“Gotta go, sorry!” he yells when he has finally detached his backpack from where it was somehow tangled up with the seatbelt, not paying attention to the way David is fondly shaking his head. 

He doesn’t wait to watch the car pull out of the parking lot and disappear from his sight - surely headed to the hospital - and instead he turns around and starts marching towards his locker, grabbing his phone to text his friends in the meanwhile. 

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the chronicles of narnia (cooler version)

Liam: peterr

Mason: edmundd

Hayden: susan!!

Corey: lucyo

[7:35 am] peterr: where r u guys 

[7:36 am] susan!!: revising in the library why

[7:36 am] peterr: can i revise w u pls

[7:37 am] susan!!: sure!! 

[7:37 am] peterr: ty im kinda freaking out

[7:37 am] susan!!: waiting for u 

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When Liam rushes into the library, it doesn’t take him much time to locate Hayden. 

He easily spots the back of her head in the left corner of the room, her dark hair held together by a loose braid thrown over the back of the chair she’s currently sitting in. 

“I need you to ask me stuff,” he says as a form of greeting, making Hayden chuckle as he sits in the chair next to her and fetches his book and notes from his bag. 

“Liam, calm down,” Hayden says, placing a cold but comforting hand on his arm to get his attention and stop him from frantically opening the textbook. 

“I can’t fail.” Liam replies, hooking his eyes with Hayden’s in the hope of getting the girl to understand his worry and maybe reassure him in some way. 

He knows that he should’ve worried about his horrid math grades ages ago - and that now there’s not much he can do other than revise and hope for the best - but with the way his brain seemed to be rioting against Liam for the past few months, math was the least of his problems. 

“And you won’t .” Hayden whispers, with a kind of certainty in her tone that makes Liam almost believe her. She squeezes his hand tightly and smiles reassuringly before turning the pages until she reaches the right one and spreading the notes around them. 

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[7:44 am] lucyo: guys wait up

[7:44 am] edmundd: i’ll be the moral relief 

[7:45 am] susan!!: shut up 

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After all, revising doesn’t go as bad as Liam feared. 

Hayden questions him on every single thing written on those pieces of paper, and he answers even the trickiest of answers with little to no hesitation. 

When he eventually begins to worry because of a missed answer, Hayden reassures him over and over again that he will do great, and eventually, he starts to calm down. 

A couple of minutes in, Corey and Mason join the revising session, each one of them adding something to the atmosphere. (Whether it’s Corey being even more anxious than Stiles on a bad day, or Mason giving his useless and sarcastic remarks about nothing in particular every now and then that make Liam want to throw a book at him, it doesn’t really matter.) 

-------------

“Oh, God, oh, God.” Liam keeps jumping up and down, sneakily glancing at the time that seems to be frozen (absolutely not because he has looked at the digits on his phone three times in the last minute), before Mason shoots him a look that clearly spells out: “Stop fucking moving”. 

The second Liam sits at the desk, he stops breathing. 

Okay, so, maybe that’s a little dramatic, but he doesn’t need to admit that. Thank you. 

He certainly can tell how all his friends physically let out a breath at the chiming sound of the bell, as if they’d been finally set free from his jumpiness and anxiety, and, okay, rude .  

No.

Liam, focus . 

When he grabs the pencil in his clammy hand and starts to slowly run his eyes over the test, he wishes he could jump on the seat and yell. 

“I know this,” he whispers confusedly at one point - mostly to himself - but Hayden hears him nonetheless and shoots a small smile at him. 

He mirrors her action and focuses his attention back on the paper, feeling the tension physically drain out of him as the seconds tick and tick.

He knows this stuff. (Why do you sound so unsure about it??) 

He has studied, for fucking ages, and he knows this stuff . 

Time seems to fly. Disappear. 

One second he’s about to tear his hair out at the thought, and the next he’s almost fucking giggling as he hands the paper to a mildly confused teacher. (Who has certainly seen worse things, he bets.) 

“That wasn’t terrible?” He says as he swiftly walks to the lockers with his friends, not that convinced by his affirmation. 

“Speak for yourself,” Corey groans, reaching for his locker and quickly entering the combination. 

As he chuckles, Liam opens his own locker, placing his math textbook (intensively staring at it as if it will spontaneously set itself on fire) in it and taking out his biology one. 

“Not fucking bio ,” Hayden mutters from where she stood in front of her locker next to Liam’s, and runs a hand through her long hair. (The braid has come undone somewhere between revising and first period, very likely because of her almost constant fidgeting.) 

“Let’s not forget to thank the wonderful, extraordinary, magnificent, spectacular Mason for lending his notes to all of you useless people,” Mason chimes in when they’re all making their way to class, a bright smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, thank you and all that,” the three of them reply in unison, waving their hands dismissively and earning a disbelieving gasp from Mason as he speeds up to catch up with them.

“And that’s how you’ll never get anything from me, ever again !” He says, threateningly pointing his index finger at the three of them, who almost immediately erupt in a fit of laughter as they get to their seats. 

“I cannot believe you.” Mason huffs at last, shaking his head disappointed and settling in the seat next to Liam. 

Liam simply smiles at his friend, mindlessly turning the pages of his open textbook without actually getting to the right one.

The second the teacher steps in the room, the dreaded clicking sound of her heels on the floor tiles audible from the other room, any trace of leftover joy abruptly leaves his body and jumps right out of the cracked open window. 

He hears himself groan almost too loudly, but nobody seems to notice - too petrified at the sight of the sour expression on Mrs. Finch’s pale face. 

Oh, perfect. 

-------------

“Dunbar?” 

“Dunbar, are you paying attention?” 

Mason’s sharp elbow colliding with his ribs is what brings him back to reality - or better, the sharp flash of pain that shoots right through him is what really gets his feet back on the ground.  

And listen, biology’s like, top two most boring subjects ever created by humanity? 

He’s boreeeed .

b o r e d .

bo red . 

Terribly so, in fact. 

So yeah, he is definitely not paying attention - but hey, sue him. 

“Uhm, yeah?” he mutters tentatively - and really, he should get back in the drama club. 

“What were we discussing, then?” Mrs. Finch asks in her pinched tone that sounds like nails on a chalkboard to Liam’s ears, and he promptly shuts off his last brain cells like the fucking idiot that he is. (Genuinely, c’mon , man.)

"We were obviously discussing.." Liam begins, matching his words with a movement of his eyebrows that clearly spells out "help me, you idiot" to Mason's terribly blind ass. 

Next to him, Mason is "whispering" something that, even given the fact that he's basically yelling for the whole school to hear, Liam still doesn't pick up. 

Maybe he should get his hearing checked, too. 

He even tries to glance at the board in front of him, but none of the things written on it in Mrs. Finch's tiny handwriting even remotely make sense to him. 

"You weren't listening, were you?" The teacher questions yet again, aggravating the flush on Liam's cheeks caused by the very embarrassing situation he's currently stuck in, with no help from his friends. (Seriously, thank you.) 

Feeling like he'd much rather crawl under the table and never resurface or engage in any human interaction ever again, he still desperately tries to save his ass by using his last resort. 

Lying. 

He's not very good at that either, but he will spare himself the embarrassment for once. 

"I was! How could I not listen to such an interesting lesson?" And yeah, that doesn't come off as he would've liked. No need to point that out. 

Grimacing at the way he sounded, he mentally braces himself for whatever punishment his teacher is planning on giving him, exchanging a pained look with Mason. 

"And that's detention for a week," Mrs. Finch begins, "and I would recommend not arguing further if you don't desire it turning into two weeks." She finishes, before Liam can even start to muster up his thoughts. 

Fantastic.

What a wonderful way to spend his next afternoons, really. 

Just what he dreamt of. 

The shrill sound of the bell dismisses the class at that exact moment - ironically enough - leaving Liam violently shoving his stuff into his backpack and getting the fuck out of the classroom as soon as he manages. (Almost tripping on his untied shoelace in the motion, but whatever.)  

"Sorry, man," Mason apologizes with a clap on the back when they've almost reached their next classroom, but while Liam may be slightly pissed, he doesn't hold a grudge. (Most of the time, at least.) 

"Nah, don't worry," Liam replies, shooting a reassuring smile at his best friend and claiming his usual seat in the back of the dusty classroom. 

Mason smiles back, his pearly white teeth almost shining, and sits right next to him. 

-------------

When Liam finally steps into the quiet comfort of his house, his head is pounding.

Whether it's for the lack of sleep of the previous days or the bad mood he's been in since after biology, he can't tell - though he doesn't particularly care about the reason. 

The only thing he actually cares about, right at this moment, is to get rid of the backpack slung on his right shoulder and collapse on his soft and warm bed, waiting for him just a staircase away. 

Before he's done with kicking off his shoes in the pantry, his well-trained nose catches a whiff of cinnamon and vanilla, mixed with the sweet scent of that red food coloring his mom loves, that can only mean one thing, much to Liam's pleasure. 

His mom has made cookies. 

Suddenly brought back to life by a new source of energy that craves sugar and cinnamon, Liam almost forgets about his splitting headache as he quietly tiptoes in the cozy kitchen, careful as ever to avoid getting caught - quite literally - red handed. 

"Don't you even try it." 

As he almost jumps and turns around to face the voice that just audibly threatened him, he's met with a spatula-bearing and honestly terrifying version of his mom, her dirty blonde curls messily gathered on top of her head with a blue claw clip Liam faintly remembers gifting her for Christmas or something. 

"I wasn't!" He promptly swears, holding up his hands in defeat to avoid getting stabbed with the pink spatula. 

"Mmh." His mum wrinkles her nose, walking up to him to plant a kiss on his forehead and start asking questions about his day. 

He happily obliges, breaking off in a detailed description of everything that happened during that day and "accidentally" omitting some parts that his mum doesn't need to know, not really. 

-------------

the best pack out there!!

[3:39 pm] onlybraincell: DO NOT BE LATE. 

[3:39 pm] onlybraincell: PLEASE. 

-------------

When a particularly exhausting practice finally comes to an end, the echo of coach's screams still loudly playing on loop in Liam's mind, he's more than happy to finally lie on his bed and maybe nap a bit, too. 

During the rest of the afternoon, grateful for the fact that that dreadful week has finally come to an end, he occupies his time with a lot of relaxing activities (some less relaxing than others), to get to the time of the match without an ounce of tiredness in his whole body. 

He plays some video games in his room until he gets bored of it, then switches to texting his friends and scrolling on social media, liking all the super cute pictures of her dog Prada that Lydia posts on Instagram. 

Finally, because he's very productive and all that, he actually picks up a book from the discarded pile in the corner of his room, making his mom smile when she "casually" enters his room without knocking to check on him and bring him a sandwich. (Thank you, mom x.)

He mentally goes over all the strategies they've tried during practice, making sure he knows everything he needs to do, flawlessly. 

It's the first game of the season, and there's nothing that Liam loves more than a good lacrosse game, especially with everyone's spirit up in the sky. 

-------------

"We can do this! Go, go, go!" 

Between coach's and Scott's remarkably weird versions of a pep talk, Liam doesn't really know which one he think it's worse. (At least Scott's isn't blatantly and shamelessly copied from Independence Day's speech, he guesses?) 

The cold air roughly bites at his cheeks when his team steps on the field, white lacrosse sticks held tightly in their hands and their maroon jerseys stark against the green of the grass under their feet. 

There's another shade of green on the field, darker - Liam notices it the second his eyes adjust to the blinding lights situated almost everywhere - but it's not the color of their opponent team's jerseys that catches his eye. 

His gaze drifts from the field in front of him to the bleachers, where every single one of his friends can be spotted, all sat next to each other.

Lydia and Allison, clad in matching scarfs and wool hats - which Liam thinks it's a bit exaggerated - are both clutching a big sign with something written on it in bold maroon letters, though he can't fully make out what it says due to the bright lights shining directly in his eyes. 

Seriously, who's responsible for this?

(He guesses it's something to support their teams in some way, or at least he hopes.) 

A mildly violent whack on the back of his head snaps his attention back on the field and on Scott, grinning from under his helmet as he holds the stick that has just provoked Liam severe brain damage. 

Liam rolls his eyes and glues his eyes back on the team in green, scanning the players one by one as if he believes that he's finally gone totally and utterly crazy. 

When he finally finds what he was desperately hoping not to find, he wants to hit himself with the lacrosse stick. 

Repeatedly.

Maybe that'll excuse him from playing, at least. 

He thought he'd gotten away.

Stupiddddd. 

Chapter Text

Fuck.

Seriously, fuck . 

He’s pretty sure that at some point, during that seemingly infinite and agonizing match, he must have hit his head on the ground or something - given the way his vocabulary has reduced substantially.  

(He can hear Hayden and Mason’s annoyingly chiding voices in the back of his head remarking on the fact that his vocabulary has never been that vast - but he chooses to blissfully ignore them.) 

No but really, what the fuck. 

As usual, time on the field seems to slow down for Liam. 

Most of the time, it’s a good thing. That way, he can focus on every movement of the rival team and his own, finding the weak spots in his opponents and pushing until they break.

It usually leads his team to victory - chants and rounds of applause in his name as they bodily carry him around the field, everyone’s joyful laughs filling up their locker room until everyone is slowly but happily making their way home, or to whatever party held at someone’s house that Liam inevitably gets invited to - despite never knowing the person stupid enough to host a lacrosse party at their house and get all their furniture permanently damaged by the groups of teenagers. 

(Liam’s sure that if he ever dares to do something like that, his parents won’t hesitate to disown him or something.) 

Nevertheless, Liam is good at lacrosse. Pretty damn good at it, if we want to be fair. 

It’s his thing, and has always been. 

Since David had the wonderful idea to get hyperactive ten year old Liam a lacrosse stick and a ball - using an old and dusty spare tire in their backyard as a makeshift goal - and unintentionally unlocking his one true passion that would follow him throughout the years, as a way to calm his anger as much as a simple pastime he finds more fulfilling that anything else. 

I mean - you get the point. 

The thing is that the previously listed reasons don’t answer the questions he’s sure have been twirling around his teammates’ minds for the entirety of that match, but he’s a tiny bit too shocked to bother about that right now. 

Dodging every person trying to physically lift him off the ground in their celebration and politely accepting every congratulation with a half-hearted smile, Liam takes off his helmet and runs a hand through his sweaty and terribly messy hair - making his way to their locker room without anyone noticing his swift escape before it’s too late - or at least trying to. 

(Shocking news: he fails once again.)

On his way, he hugs Corey and congratulates him for too much time before the boy detaches himself and runs off to the locker room, probably to get the hot water in the showers. 

“First of all: why the fuck did you stop dead in your tracks in the middle of the field? I thought you had a paralysis or some shit,” Stiles sputters as he makes his way towards Liam, frantically waving his hands as he speaks and almost smacking Scott right in the face. 

Liam grimaces at the sound of Stiles’ voice - and a bit at the memory of him just dropping his stick on the ground and considering the possibility of walking away - but he fights the unpleasant thoughts by swallowing soundly and trying his best at acting nonchalant. 

(Drama club. Fucking sign him in.) 

“And second of all, and most importantly : who the hell is number thirteen and why were you so focused on him?” Scott jumps in, arching a confused eyebrow at Liam.

“Listen, it doesn’t matter, right? We won, it’s all good!” Liam replies in his best convincing tone, shooting the unimpressed boys a bright and painfully fake smile and massaging his sore neck in the meanwhile. He knows they totally see through his façade, but they have no reason at all to inspect further, and there’s not a single chance they could possibly know the reason of his admittedly weird as fuck behaviour. 

Or is there? 

Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, he mindlessly follows his friends out on the field once again, tuning out Stiles’ relentless grumbling about nothing specific. He doesn’t pay particular attention to anything around him either, from the victorious chants all around them to the cold air mercilessly biting at the bare skin of his face. 

That being said, he eventually looks up from where he was picking at the grass with the tip of his shoe when his ears pick up on the lack of Scott and Stiles’ constant chattering - just in time to observe the following events. 

Both his friends’ mouths are slack in shock, the steady flow of words abruptly interrupted by whatever they have just seen - so surprising to make Stiles shut up. (Impressive, genuinely.) 

Whatever the reason for their sudden reaction is, Liam doesn’t have much time to wonder, immediately having his question answered by simply following his friends’ gaze up until the point they’re gaping at. 

Oh, God . 

“ Theo!? ” 

Stiles and Scott apparently have recovered from their momentary shock, seeing as they provide their gasping commentary just in time to make the whole situation movie-worthy. 

Really, Liam wants to scream. 

“Theo, man, is that really you?” He hears Scott’s surprised voice say, though to him it sounds as if he’s listening from underwater - his whole perception of reality blurred and quite intelligible. 

Liam catches with the corner of his eye Scott’s tall frame as he approaches the player with a big, white “13” plastered across his front, his mouth agape as he utters an unbelieving chuckle. 

In front of them, many sensible feet away from where Liam is currently digging his nails into the palms of his hands, Theo stands still, his knuckles going white from his death grip on his lacrosse stick. 

His sweaty hair is plastered to his glistening forehead, much messier and decidedly longer than the last time Liam saw him, though he doesn’t really want to recall that time of his life, not right now. 

For as much as he can see, Liam is pretty sure that his gray eyes are also shining - though he can’t quite tell if it’s because of the adrenaline of the match or something else Liam doesn’t know. 

Slowly - painfully so - Theo finally pulls himself together enough to at least react to Scott and Stiles’ joyfully surprised expressions painted on their sweaty faces, striding closer with almost as much energy as a dying slot. 

He runs his eyes over the two of them, raising one eyebrow in an indecipherable expression that Liam would define as a strange mix between confusion and surprise, the slightest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

Liam can feel his own breath heaving as he watches the scene with wide eyes, his gaze darting from person to person and his brain rattling with an infinite amount of unanswered questions. 

First thing first: is that really Theo?

And why the fuck do his friends know Theo ? 

His mental inquiries are left without a decent response when Theo - who seems to be impersonating a cardboard cutout with an Oscar worthy performance - breaks into a wide grin, his pearly white teeth shining obnoxiously in the dark night. He swiftly closes the distance between him and Scott to pull him into a rather violent hug - but Scott doesn’t seem to mind, and without missing a beat wraps his arms around Theo’s body. 

When Theo pulls back and steps away, it’s only to repeat the exact same action with Stiles, who looks equally excited with a matching bright smile and glinty eyes. 

“It’s been so damn long, man, we thought you died or something!” Scott chuckles as he affectionately slaps Theo on his padded shoulder, who smirks in return. 

“We missed you! What happened to “don’t be a stranger” and all that?” Stiles matches his words with a playful punch in Theo’s arm. 

“I missed you guys, too,” he replies, an infuriating smile still firmly plastered on his slightly tan face as he falls into steps with Scott and Stiles, dangerously coming closer and closer to where Liam is currently standing. 

“Liam, don’t be rude, c’mere.” 

Caught in the middle of the act of subtly sneaking away to the locker room, Liam slowly turns around with a grimace to face his friends and the absolutely not welcome intruder, who doesn’t seem to have recognised Liam - or at least hides it well. 

“Liam, this is Theo. Theo, Liam.” 

Stiles quickly does the admittedly useless introductions, waving his hand between the two boys and remaining completely oblivious to Liam’s decidedly not sympathetic expression.

When Stiles finally shuts up, Theo - still being the asshole that he was when Liam claimed to know him - violently grabs Liam’s hand and starts shaking it in a not-that-friendly manner - giving away the fact that he has recognised him pretty well - all with that terrible smirk unwavering on his mouth. 

In response, Liam bares all his teeth in his best version of a painfully fake smile and returns the handshake with as much force as he can muster, holding Theo’s gaze with every drop of self-assurance left in his body. 

“It’s so nice to meet you, Liam ,” Theo whispers loud enough for Liam to catch it, the sugar in his tone accompanied by the stress on those specific words. He rolls Liam’s name on his tongue, dragging the “m” for a second too long as he studies the face of the boy in front of him. 

“ Amazing to meet you, too, really, but we have to go now. Celebrate a victory, you know?” At last, Liam drops Theo’s way-too-firm hand and even dares to clap him on his shoulder, slightly tilting up his head to at least try and rub the victory in Theo’s irritatingly smug face. 

Just as he hoped, Theo’s smirk falters almost intelligibly - but Liam catches it nonetheless and widens his own smile, basking in his small success. 

“Wonderful to see you again, man, we need to hang out sometime!” Scott yells over his shoulder as he’s yanked away by Liam, who’s already jogging back to the locker room in a hurry to get as far away as possible from the other boy.

From Theo’s general direction comes a faint sound of approval, enough to make Liam groan under his breath.

Oh, no.

Please, no . 

“I didn’t know he played lacrosse,” Stiles comments as they change in the cozy warmth of the locker room, silent except for the remaining players who had stopped to chat with someone and are now frantically changing to avoid missing parties and such.

After all, it was the first game of the season, and they won. 

“Me neither,” Scott agrees, trying his best to dry his messy hair with a damp towel. 

They seem to drop the matter until Stiles, with his usual fake ass innocent tone, whispers something.

“Wait, didn’t you play on the team at Devenford?” 

At first, Liam tries to blissfully ignore the question, obnoxiously whistling under his breath as he slides on his shirt and runs a hand through his hair.

When Stiles’ hand eventually finds itself one inch away from Liam’s face, he looks up with a - hopefully - innocent looking expression and pretends to be unaware of his friend’s question being directed right to him. 

Of course, Stiles doesn’t buy his shit, and shoots him an impressively unimpressed look as Liam tries to come up with a plausible excuse.

He fails - terribly so. 

“I- uhm- yeah. I did.” He mutters quietly, hoping Stiles will drop the conversation on the spot and maybe even forget about the whole encounter with Theo too. 

“So you already knew Theo?” 

Shit. 

“I- yeah. We- we played together for a while.” 

Liam bites his bottom lip in order not to cringe at the sound of his uncertain tone, but Stiles’ raised eyebrow clearly spells out that he senses something under his weird behavior.

Stiles and never minding his own fucking business, Liam thinks. 

“Why did you act like that out there? As if you didn’t know him?” Scott pipes in, his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity and confusion. 

At Scott’s intervention Liam sighs, resigning himself to an infinite list of questions that he knows for a fact are about to spill out of his noisy-as-fuck friends’ mouths. 

“I wish I didn’t,” Liam confesses, still breathing the words so quietly that Stiles and Scott need to strain their ears to understand. 

“We weren’t exactly…best friends, you know?” Liam continues upon glancing at his friends’ confused faces, hoping it's be enough to leave them both satisfied until he can escape their temporary kidnapping in the locker room. 

“He gave you a hard time?” Scott, the good-hearted asshole that he is, asks tentatively. (Of course he does.) 

After a hesitant moment, Liam chooses not to be offended by Scott assuming that he had to be the victim in his and Theo’s weird relationship, and weighs his words cautiously before replying. 

“We- uhm- it was more of a mutual thing. Pulled pranks on each other and shit.” 

“He put glue in your helmet or something? Dye in your shampoo?” Stiles’ tactful comment earns him a loud smack on the back of his head by Scott’s gloved hand, but that doesn’t make Liam feel better about the whole situation.

(Okay, maybe a little bit.) (He could never admit it to Stiles’ face, though.) 

“No. He- ugh. Listen, can’t we just drop this whole thing? I don’t wanna talk about it.”

At that, Stiles and Scott exchange meaningful glances, engaging in a rather complex conversation by only using their eyes, while Liam ties his shoelaces. 

“Okay.” Scott declares at last, smiling reassuringly and hauling his bag over his shoulder as he finally exits the stifling locker room. 

“One last thing, though. How the fuck do you guys know Theo?” Liam raises one eyebrow in question, watching the two boys as they once again eye each other for a seemingly endless time. 

“It’s- ah- a long story,” Scott grins in response, digging up his keys from the pocket of his jacket in the meanwhile.

“It’s totally not. We met in elementary,” Stiles jumps in, shaking his head and running a hand through his terribly messy mop of hair. 

“We were, like, super close friends for a ton of time. Until, well, he moved.” Scott adds, his smile dropping slightly at the end of his sentence.

“Wait, but how come we never noticed he played last year?” Stiles asks with his brows furrowed, probably a thought said aloud that he didn’t mean to share. 

“Because he didn’t.” Liam says before either of the two boys can start to throw their guesses in. 

In response, Scott and Stiles first lock eyes between them and then stare at Liam, both of their right eyebrows raised to their hairlines. When Liam doesn’t elaborate further on why he knows what he just spat out, both of the boys’ eyebrows climb higher as if they want to say “go on”.

“He was benched for the entirety of his sophomore year. Now can we stop talking about it?” Liam snaps, one second away from losing his temper entirely. He doesn’t want to, especially not towards his friends, so he tightens his fists and focuses on breathing slowly and steadily instead. 

“Yeah, sure-” Scott begins, but his sentence is left unfinished as a loud yell echoes in the locker room and coach Finstock - appearing out of thin air - violently bangs his fisted hand on the metal door. 

“What the hell are you pathetic kids still doing here? Don’t you all have social lives or are you miserable?” He screams, making Scott snort in his fist and conceal it as a cough. 

“Going!” Both Liam and Stiles reply in unison, pointing to the door and managing to exit the room in three swift strides. 

“Oh, Liam. Can we still invite Theo to hang out sometimes?” Scott quips as he puts on his helmet and turns on his motorcycle, handing another chipped helmet to Stiles. 

“Uhm, sure.” Liam nods, trying to at least look as if it's okay with him, and before he can even start to think about the consequences of his two words, Scott has already pulled out of the parking lot and his motorcycle is hardly visible in the dark of the night. 

Hesitating in place like an awkward scarecrow for a few seconds, Liam quickly unlocks his phone and opens his notifications, wincing at the many missed calls from his mom.

He mentally makes a note to write down his will in his notes just in case and then texts his stepdad, before opening the other notifications to check the shit ton of messages from his friends.

-------------

the best pack out there!!

Liam: captainamerica
Mason: avocadon
Corey: corneliuss
Hayden: hayday
Scott - wolfywolf
Stiles - onlybraincell
Lydia - fashionlydia
Allison - tslovergirll
Malia: - mathater
Kira - hellokira

[9:39 pm] tslovergirll: you guys have been amazing!!!!

[9:39 pm] fashionlydia: congrats!!

[9:40 pm] hellokira: liam u ate w that last point

[9:40 pm] avocadon: yeah yeah ur all amazing 

[9:41 pm] mathater: no srsly it was actually entertaining to watch 

[9:41 pm] mathater: and thats a lot coming from me

[9:41 pm] hayday: yall slayed tbh 

[10:12 pm] corneliuss: thank u!!

[10:42 pm] onlybraincell: thanks guys xx

[10:43 pm] wolfywolf: thank u ily 

[10:50 pm] captainamerica: thank you guyss 

[11:01 pm] fashionlydia: [photo] 

[11:01 pm] tslovergirll: ❤️

[11:01 pm] corneliuss: why are you so fucking photogenic this is a hatecrime

[11:02 pm] tslovergirll: xx

[11:02 pm] mathater: its bc we’re iconic 

[11:03 pm] corneliuss: stfu 

[11:04 pm] hayday: why arent u all here yet

[11:04 pm] onlybraincell: almost there!!

[11:04 pm] onlybraincell: theres sm traffic ffs 

[11:05 pm] captainamerica: i dont think im coming 

[11:05 pm] captainamerica: i feel a bit sick 

[11:06 pm] hayday: do u want us to save something for u?

[11:06 pm] captainamerica: nah its all good thx 

[11:06 pm] hayday: ok dont die x

[11:07 pm] tslovergirll: drink water!! 

[11:07 pm] corneliuss: man u ok?

[11:07 pm] captainamerica: yea im good just a bit lightheaded

[11:07 pm] captainamerica: ttyl 

-------------

private chat 

Liam: rapunzel

Mason: pascal 

[11:10 pm] pascal: liam are you okay???

[11:10 pm] pascal: why aren't u coming? 

[11:12 pm] rapunzel: a bit sick

[11:12 pm] rapunzel: im good i swear

[11:12 pm] rapunzel: must have caught a cold or something

[11:13 pm] pascal: mmh

[11:13 pm] pascal: i sense bullshit

[11:13 pm] rapunzel: mase im fine really

[11:14 pm] pascal: sure

[11:14 pm] pascal: call me if u need anything ily 

[11:15 pm] rapunzel: ilyt 

-------------

Liam sighs and closes the app, momentarily blinded by the sudden burst of light from David’s car pulling into the school’s parking lot. 

He gratefully jogs up to the car and quickly throws his bag in the backseat, before fastening the seat belt under David’s gaze and blissfully dropping his head against the headrest. 

“Sorry for not making it today, champion. Mom wasn’t feeling well,” David whispers as he turns the radio down and starts driving towards their house. 

"It’s okay, it wasn’t that great,” Liam lies, not wanting his stepdad to feel even worse than he’s sure he already does. 

Liam knows that they would never miss a game purposefully, and he doesn’t blame them in the least for skipping this one. After all, he’s sure they would’ve asked stuff about Theo upon noticing his presence, and he doesn’t feel like answering questions right now. 

“How’s mom then?” He asks instead, turning his head to face David’s profile as he quietly drives. 

“She’s good now, just needed rest after a long day.” David smiles reassuringly, patting Liam’s knee mindlessly as he stares right ahead. 

Liam nods in response and leans back into his seat, letting the soft music lull him until the car pulls into the driveway and he’s forced to wake up from his trance and enter the house. 

When he tiptoes into the house with David in tow, he guesses that his mom is already sleeping - given the fact that every room is dead silent and there’s no light coming from the bedroom. 

“Goodnight, champion. I promise we’ll be there next time,” David whispers as he ruffles Liam’s hair and kisses the top of his head, disappearing to his bedroom shortly after. 

Sighing as quietly as he can, Liam climbs up the stairs and throws himself on his bed, sniffing the orange scented soap that still lingers on his duvet with a wide smile concealed by the fabric of his blanket. 

After what feels like proper years, he finally gets up and changes into his pajamas, rubbing his eyes forcefully as he brushes his teeth and later tucks himself into bed. 

He grabs his phone from where he’d left it on the blanket and puts it on charge - but before he can throw it on the nightstand by his bed - a notification brightens up his screen. 

-------------

the best pack out there!! 

[wolfywolf] added [Theo Raeken] 

[11:48 pm] wolfywolf: guys this is theo 

[11:48 pm] wolfywolf: an old friend 

Chapter Text

Saturday, 9th of March

When Liam picks up his phone from his nightstand and taps on the screen to check the time, it doesn’t take him more than a second to connect the terrifying amount of notifications with the events of the day prior.

His head is throbbing as if he’s been drinking, the hammering pain making him squint his eyes at the painful flash of light from his phone, but he clearly recalls being as sober as a nun for the whole day - even though he can safely say that he wishes too many drinks were the cause for his relentless headache. 

After checking for any emergencies in his missed texts that could spare him the torture of opening his friends’ messages, he resigns to his miserable fate and opens the app with a suffering sigh. 

At the sight of those messages in the group chat and its new member, Liam physically fights the urge to throw his phone directly outside of his window, but the thought of having to pay for a new one with his scarce savings is scary enough to stop him from actually doing it. 

Still, it doesn’t prevent him from violently shoving his head into his pillow, in the foolish hope of maybe suffocating to death - and getting away from that terrible and awkward situation he has no way of getting out of. 

-------------

the best pack out there!! 

Liam: captainamerica  

Mason: avocadon   

Corey: corneliuss 

Hayden: hayday 

Scott - wolfywolf 

Stiles - onlybraincell 

Lydia - fashionlydia 

Allison - tslovergirll

Malia: - mathater 

Kira - hellokira 

[wolfywolf] added [Theo Raeken]

[11:48 pm] wolfywolf: guys this is theo

[11:48 pm] wolfywolf: an old friend

[11:51 pm] fashionlydia: hi theo

[11:51 pm] tslovergill: hi theo!! 

[11:52 pm] hellokira: omg hello 

[11:52 pm] mathater: hi

-------------

private chat:

Liam: rapunzel

Mason: pascal 

[11:54 pm] pascal: ??????

[11:54 pm] pascal: liam

[11:54 pm] pascal: liam!!

[11:54 pm] pascal: tf does that mean

[11:54 pm] pascal: is it *that* theo?? 

[11:55 pm] pascal: liam are u still alive

[11:55 pm] pascal: ????

-------------

the chronicles of narnia (cooler version)

Liam: peterr

Mason: edmundd

Hayden: susan!!

Corey: lucyo

[11:57 pm] susan!!: liam wtf

[11:57 pm] susan!!: are we talking about the same person

[11:57 pm] susan!!: like

[11:58 pm] lucyo: wait it’s that theo?? 

[11:58 pm] lucyo: *the* theo??? 

[11:58 pm] lucyo: bro whats going on

[11:58 pm] edmundd: exactly

[11:59 pm] edmundd: liam man we need answers

[12:00 am] susan!!: @peterr !!!

[12:47 am] lucyo: are we all witnessing this 

[12:47 am] susan!!: hell yes we are

[12:48 am] susan!!: except for liam i think he died

-------------

private chat: 

Scott: dumb

Liam: dumbar

[12:00 am] dumb: man u good??

[12:20 am] dumb: assuming ur sleeping

[12:20 am] dumb: text if u need anything

[12:21 am] dumb: ily 

-------------

the best pack out there!! 

[12:46 am] Theo Raeken: Hello. 

[12:46 am] onlybraincell: he lives!! 

[12:47 am] Theo Raeken: Yeah, I had my phone off.

[12:47 am] onlybraincell: oooh why

[12:47 am] onlybraincell: need it off during ur nighttime activities? 

[12:47 am] onlybraincell: 😏😏

[12:49 am] Theo Raeken: Wait, I thought this wasn’t fourth grade anymore.

[12:49 am] Theo Raeken: Guess I was wrong.

[12:50 am] mathater: lmfao

[12:50 am] mathater: i like u ur funny

[12:50 am] Theo Raeken: Thanks?

[12:52 am] wolfywolf: theo omg ur here

[12:52 am] wolyfwolf: was beginning to think you’d given me a fake number 

[12:52 am] onlybraincell: also why tf do u text like that

[12:52 am] onlybraincell: it feels like im talking to a teacher ew 

[12:53 am] Theo Raeken: Didn’t know proper grammar wasn’t cool anymore.

[12:53 am] onlybraincell: yes it isn’t get those capitalized letters out of my sight

[12:53 am] onlybraincell: and the punctuation omfg 

[12:53 am] tslovergirll: wholeheartedly agree

[12:53 am] tslovergirll: u seem so cool but i physically cannot look at ur texts

[12:53 am] fashionlydia: it’s so aesthetically unpleasing im getting a headache 

[12:54 am] wolfywolf: yall are scaring him away omg

[12:54 am] fashionlydia: if he’s been friends with you and stiles for this long i doubt he can be scared away by anything

[12:54 am] onlybraincell: ok so first of all rude???

[12:54 am] wolfywolf: and second of all bold of u to assume he isn’t just as bad as us

[12:54 am] mathater: oh im sure hes worse

[12:55 am] Theo Raeken: I’m not quite sure if I should be flattered or offended?

[12:55 am] onlybraincell: u should be out of the gc if u keep doing this

[12:55 am] Theo Raeken: Doing what?

[12:56 am] tslovergirll: this is so funny lmfaooo

[12:56 am] mathater: keep doing wtv ur doing i love seeing stiles lose his temper

[12:56 am] onlybraincell: ok fuck u all 

[12:57 am] Theo Raeken: I’m not doing anything at all.

[12:57 am] Theo Raeken: Stiles, are you feeling sick?

[12:57 am] Theo Raeken: A bit lightheaded perhaps? 

[12:58 am] mathater: LMFAO

[12:58 am] onlybraincell: u havent changed omfg

[12:58 am] onlybraincell: i remember ur 8yo ass gaslighting the teachers

[12:58 am] wolfywolf: fr bud was fooling everyone w his big gray eyes n shit

[12:59 am] tslovergirll: ily guys for bringing him here 

[12:59 am] tslovergirll: im laughing so bad

[onlybraincell] changed [Theo Raeken]’s username into [gaslighter] 

[1:00 am] gaslighter: Lies and slander.

[1:00 am] gaslighter: All of it. 

[1:00 am] wolfywolf: nuh uh

[1:01 am] onlybraincell: pure truth my boy 

[1:01 am] gaslighter: Kys. 

[1:01 am] onlybraincell: see how ur threats arent threatening this way

[1:01 am] gaslighter: Trust me, they should be.

[1:01 am] wolfywolf: god who stole ur phone 

[1:02 am] onlybraincell: it feels as if we’re gonna have a potentially dangerous business transaction or sum shit 

[1:02 am] tslovergirll: anyway!!! 

[1:02 am] tslovergirll: moving on!! 

[1:03 am] tslovergirll: we were thinking of going to the beach tmr!!

[1:03 am] tslovergirll: and we were wondering if we could turn it into a group hangout!!

[1:03 am] tslovergirll: getting to know each other and stuff!!

[1:03 am] wolfywolf: does “we” stand for lydia and kira 

[1:04 am] fashionlydia: how could you possibly think that?? 

[1:04 am] hellokira: maybe? 

[1:04 am] onlybraincell: it was too much socializing for allison

[1:04 am] tslovergirll: slander im literally a social butterfly 

[1:04 am] onlybraincell: a dead one 

[1:05 am] tslovergirll: 🖕

[1:05 am] gaslighter: I’m weirdly entertained and slightly concerned by all of this. 

[1:05 am] wolfywolf: …that in theo raeken’s weird sat vocabulary means he likes us 

[1:05 am] onlybraincell: high high honor guys

[1:05 am] onlybraincell: in fourth grade he snobbed everyone and anyone 

[1:05 am] gaslighter: That’s an interesting way of saying I didn’t have friends.

[1:06 am] mathater: dear god im coming over to ur house and throttling u personally with ur punctuation marks

[1:06 am] gaslighter: You would have to know where I live first.

[1:06 am] mathater: i have my ways 

[1:06 am] fashionlydia: guys are we cool for the hangout??

[1:06 am] fashionlydia: at the beach at four pm? 

[1:07 am] onlybraincell: scott’s bringing food

[1:07 am] wolfywolf: child labor much??? 

[1:07 am] onlybraincell: stfu melissa does everything anyway 

[1:07 am] wolfywolf: uhm not true? i help 

[1:07 am] tslovergirll: i sense bs 

[1:07 am] mathater: i sense it too 

[1:07 am] hellokira: im bringing useful stuff bc yall are children

[1:08 am] fashionlydia: reposting 

[1:08 am] hellokira: ok amazing going to sleep now

[1:08 am] hellokira: seeing yall tmr losers xxxx

[1:09 am] gaslighter: I’m bringing my own stuff I suppose. 

[1:09 am] tslovergirll: no girl we share heree

[1:09 am] tslovergirll: whats ur fav ice cream flavor i need to know

[1:09 am] gaslighter: Uhm. Coffee?

[1:10 am] tslovergirll: ok perfect xx 

[1:10 am] onlybraincell: ew coffee?? why do u have the taste of a middle aged businessman too

[1:10 am] tslovergirll: stiles stfu

[1:10 am] gaslighter: You don’t need to, really.

[1:10 am] tslovergirll: it’s a tradition dw 

[1:11 am] mathater: goodnight everybody stfu

[1:11 am] tslovergirll: night ppl xx it was great to meet u theo xx

[1:11 am] gaslighter: We didn’t actually meet, but okay.

[1:11 am] onlybraincell: stfu u child professor 

[1:11 am] onlybraincell: goodnighttt

[1:12 am] wolfywolf: night everyone xx

[1:12 am] fashionlydia: wait where are the children

[1:12 am] onlybraincell: prob sleeping its past their bedtime anyway

[1:12 am] wolfywolf: i texted liam a while ago but he didnt answer

[1:12 am] wolfywolf: i think hes sleeping

[1:13 am] tslovergirll: he needs to rest if he’s still feeling sick

[1:13 am] gaslighter: He wasn’t well? 

[1:13 am] wolfywolf: yeah after the game

[1:13 am] gaslighter: Ok. 

[1:13 am] gaslighter: Goodnight.

-------------

It’s not like Liam doesn’t want Theo there, really.

(Liar. He absolutely does not want Theo there. Not a chance.) 

Look, he hates Theo. Truly despites the guy, and while that’s not much from someone like Liam, he means it when it comes to that utterly infuriating boy. 

(And he has to agree on the fact that he texts like a middle-aged businessman or an high school teacher, but that’s just one of the many weird-as-fuck things about Theo that Liam doesn’t really want to recall now or ever.) 

Still, he loves Scott and Stiles entirely too much to let his own feelings get in the way of their lost friendship with Theo, and he knows way too much about the importance of childhood friendships to prevent them from reconnecting with their childhood friend - even if said friend is Theo fucking Raeken. 

So, yeah - if his friends decide to ask Theo to hang out with them or something - he will simply suck it up and slap on his best smile. After all, after everything Scott and Stiles went through for him, being civil with a guy he doesn’t like really isn’t that much to ask. 

God, being a good friend is really fucking difficult. 

-------------

After having replied to almost every text from his distressed friends (and having made sure that no one is gonna kill him for apparently “scaring the shit out of them” - their words, not his -), he stares at the polaroid-covered wall in front of him for a sensible amount of time before snapping out of his trance and actually getting up. 

One of the many photos covering his wall (courtesy of Kira and Corey and their honestly incredible talent for photographing him from his worst angles) has fallen from where it was poorly attached to the wall with a piece of tape, and Liam can’t help the smile pulling at his mouth when he bends to pick it up and takes a closer look at it.

It’s one of those group shots taken with Corey's disposable camera, and despite it being almost dark, each of their faces is clearly visible. He almost rolls his eyes at the sight of Allison and Lydia - both sitting in their respective boyfriend’s lap and sporting matching sickeningly cute and annoyingly perfect smiles - but the image of Malia trying to stick something up Kira’s nose while she tries her best to grin at the camera makes him giggle audibly. That smile fades abruptly from his face when he groans as he spots Mason and Corey sitting in a tangle of limbs on the sand, hands intertwined and horrifyingly-in-love looks on their faces. Ew , he could puke . Last but not least, he manages to find himself splayed on the sand, his face scrunched up in obvious disgust towards something he can’t seem to recall (though he can safely blame Hayden for whatever his issue at the time seemed to be), while said Hayden beams at the camera with her best depiction of an innocent and angelic smile on her face. 

Staring at the photo for a second longer, Liam tapes it back to the wall next to all the other pictures and various notes that barely stick to the wall, and drags a hand over his face - hoping he doesn’t look as miserable as he feels. 

When he finally submerges from the steaming shower - his wet hair dripping water on the floor and then trying his best to dry it with a towel - he thinks he feels a tiny bit less like utter shit, and he’s almost convinced that he can probably survive a hangout at the beach with Theo . (And all his other friends that he’s very happy to see, of course.) 

-------------

the best pack out there!!

Liam: captainamerica  

Mason: avocadon   

Corey: corneliuss 

Hayden: hayday 

Scott - wolfywolf 

Stiles - onlybraincell 

Lydia - fashionlydia 

Allison - tslovergirll

Malia: - mathater 

Kira - hellokira 

Theo - gaslighter 

[9:26 am] hellokira: good morning!!

[9:26 am] hellokira: the sun is shining!!

[9:26 am] hellokira: the birds are chirping!!

[9:28 am] mathater: and im murdering someone 

[9:28 am] mathater: literally go back to sleep 

[9:28 am] hellokira: cant do that ive got too much energy

[9:29 am] hellokira: anyone wanna grab a coffee???? 

[9:29 am] wolfywolf: mememememe

[9:29 am] wolfywolf: i need to go out asap stiles is screaming at me for opening the blinds

[9:30 am] fashionlydia: how much did he drink yesterday

[9:30 am] wolfywolf: way too much defo

[9:30 am] tslovergirll: kira, scott ily both sm but stfu pls my head is pounding

[9:30 am] avocadon: how aren’t yall hungover im exploding

[9:31 am] corneliuss: can yall stfu pls

[9:31 am] hayday: im down for coffee i need it 

[9:32 am] captainamerica: same

[9:33 am] tslovergirll: ur alive!!!!

[9:33 am] tslovergirll: did u drink water??

[9:33 am] tslovergirll: sleep???

[9:34 am] captainamerica: jesus i wasnt on my deathbed

[9:34 am] corneliuss: u sure as hell texted like it

[9:34 am] captainamerica: i did not

[9:34 am] hellokira: u totally did 

[9:34 am] captainamerica: ugh

[9:34 am] captainamerica: anyway thank u for worrying but im good i swear

[9:35 am] tslovergirll: we literally have to worry ur our child

[9:35 am] wolfywolf: what kind of parents would we be if we didnt

[9:35 am] captainamerica: u are NOT my parents thank u very much

[9:35 am] captainamerica: u would face so many child endangerment charges if u were 

 [9:35 am] hellokira: lmaooo

[9:35 am] wolfywolf: aaaand ur grounded for two weeks

[9:35 am] captainamerica: stfu

[9:36 am] tslovergirll: three weeks 

[9:36 am] captainamerica: ur insufferable

[9:36 am] wolfywolf: four weeks and no videogames

[9:37 am] fashionlydia: you’re all children now shut up

[9:37 am] hellokira: thank u

[9:37 am] hellokira: 10:00 at that coffee shop near lydia’s house

[9:37 am] hellokira: dont be late mwah 

-------------

Despite the fact that half of his closet was scattered on the floor and that he couldn’t seem to find the keys to his front door if his life depended on it, Liam still manages to find clean clothes - that won’t make Lydia’s nose wrinkle in disgust at his choice of colors and shit - and stumbles out of his front door in time to make it to their designed location. 

The coffee shop next to the redhead’s house is barely big enough to contain him and the rest of his friends insane enough to leave their beds with the raging headaches he’s sure they all sport, but the drinks in that place are cheap enough and the booths are comfortable and not that sticky, so they can’t really complain. 

“ Why aren’t you people hungover? It has to be fucking sorcery,” Hayden groans as she slides in the booth and drops her head on Liam’s shoulder with too much force. 

In response, he grabs her drink from the table and takes a sip of that “sugar monstrosity” (as Malia calls it) that couldn’t taste better in Liam’s opinion. He pushes his own drink towards Hayden and nudges her until she resumes from her sleepy haze and wraps a hand around the cold glass. With an understanding and almost intelligible nod, they decide to swap their sorry excuses of “coffees” and go on with their day. 

“How was the party, then?” Liam asks when everyone’s settled and happy with their drinks in their hands. 

“Super fun!” Kira replies excitedly as she takes a sip and proceeds to get brainfreeze, screwing her eyes shut and scrunching up her nose. 

“A kid almost jumped in the pool from the roof,” Hayden adds in an unbothered tone from where she’s still slouched in her seat. 

At that, a giggle passes through the group and dies out when one of them decides to speak again. 

“It would’ve been better with you, though,” Scott says quietly, smiling warmly at Liam as he speaks. 

In response, Liam shoots him a grin back and feels his heart clench ever so slightly at the sentence. (Not that he will admit it or anything, just to be clear.) 

“Do you guys think Theo will like my cocktails?” Lydia quips at some point, stirring her drink with her intact paper straw and furrowing her perfect brows in the meanwhile. 

“Everyone likes your cocktails,” Liam replies cheekily, ignoring the heavy feeling in his chest at the mention of Theo’s name. 

Dear God, get a fucking grip . 

“That’s right,” Lydia agrees with a nod, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and smiling. 

From that point on, wildly different conversations flow between all the people sitting in that booth, but Liam catches only small snippets and broken sentences every now and then. He doesn’t think his friends have missed his very unusual lack of commentary throughout the whole morning, but he’s grateful for the fact that they all refrain from mentioning it. 

Much later, when they have walked everyone home safely and bid each other goodbye as if they were off to war and they’re not going to meet up again mere hours later, the only people left are Lydia and Liam. 

Living literally next to each other, with their backyard being separated by a chipped picket fence Liam had to paint white the previous summer, they walk together in a nice silence until they have reached Lydia’s front door. 

“Do you wanna tell me what’s up?” She asks, locking her emerald eyes with Liam’s blue ones. With his back against the door, the intensity of her gaze almost makes him squirm, and he fights the urge to run away like the idiot that he is.

“Nothing’s up. Why would anything be up? I’m fine!” He replies with a smile, though the way his eyes widen ever so infinitesimally and his hand comes up to tangle in his hair betray him immediately. 

Lydia rolls her eyes at his antics and sighs softly, but her inquiring gaze remains fixated on Liam’s face. 

“Is it Theo?” She tries, genuinely taking Liam by surprise.

Because how the fuck can she know? 

“Did Stiles tell you anything?” Liam responds, furrowing his brows.

“No. But you just did.” She huffs, raising one eyebrow. “I’m assuming you already know him. Why does he bother you?” 

“He doesn’t bother me. I just- ugh. Nothing. I’m perfectly fine with him being there at the beach. I’m absolutely not bothered .” He waves his hands around frantically, as if almost accidentally hitting Lydia in the face will prove his point further. 

“You totally are bothered.” She says.

He totally is bothered. 

A bit confused and impressed by the fact that Lydia always manages to see past everyone's façade, too. 

That is no one’s problem but his, though. 

“Can we please, please, please , drop this whole thing?” He pleads, putting his hands together as if he’s praying. 

“Okay, Sabrina Carpenter, chill.” She sighs, rolling her eyes again in a way that makes Liam think they’re going to get stuck like that or something. 

“Thank youuuu,” he says as he moves to the side to let Lydia open the door, but the sound of her voice makes him stop again in his tracks.

“Promise you won’t do anything stupid. You know, you can talk to me. To us,” She whispers with a reassuring smile, disappearing behind the wooden door before Liam can even think of a sensible reply. 

Damn. 

-------------

Keeping his promises is a fucking hard job, honestly. 

He does try to keep his cool, he really tries. 

Still, from the moment Liam steps out of the passenger seat of Lydia’s car with California Gurls permanently engraved in his brain - one hand gripping the handle of the massive cool box the girl bullied him into carrying and the other precariously balancing boxes full of chocolate chip cookies - and accidentally lays his eyes on Theo’s ridiculously fit frame, he can’t help but wish he’d stayed tucked in his bed binge-watching some show with terrible jokes. 

“You can bring those over here!” Kira yells from somewhere dangerously close to the water, pointing at a big towel neatly placed on the sand where Scott is already arranging all the things for a proper picnic. 

Next to him, Lydia jogs (in high heels. What the fuck.) to reach Stiles’ blue jeep, leaning up to let the boy plant a kiss on her lips before basically dragging him to the towel-picnic. 

Shrugging, Liam awkwardly clambers towards his friends, cautiously avoiding Theo from where he’s engaging in an admittedly stilted conversation with Allison, who seems to be just as uncomfortable as he is - if the way she keeps twirling her side braid with her fingers with an awkward smile plastered on her pale face is anything to go by. 

“Thank you, man,” Scott beams at Liam when he hands him the cool box, nodding at Liam to put down the cookies and help set up the picnic. 

“So,” Liam starts casually, when Scott’s too busy following Kira and Lydia’s orders to look up at him. “How’s he doing?” 

At that, he pointedly ignores Lydia’s slightly amused side eye in order to move a cool box from one side of the towel to the other. (Completely useless motion, but he had to occupy his hands in some way.)

“Who?” Scott furrows his brows, stopping whatever he was doing to look up at Liam.

“Santa Claus. Him , Scott.” Liam replies in a “duh” tone, rolling his eyes and sighing as if he’s not the one who’s being cryptic as fuck. 

(The fact that he’s aware of his own idiocy does not mean that he’s going to do something about it, mind you.) 

“He means Theo ,” Stiles answers his best friend in an equal “duh” tone, even though Liam doesn’t miss the half confused half amused glance Stiles exchanges with Lydia.

“You can say his name, you know. He’s not Lord Voldemort,” Stiles addresses him with a smirk, to which Liam replies with a shove and a roll of his eyes. 

“Speak of the devilll,” Kira muses a second later, and as if on cue Theo strides up to stop in front of them, a giggly Allison in tow. 

“Your girlfriend is so much funnier than you, man,” Theo tells Scott with a smirk, nodding his head to where Allison is still hovering next to him. 

“You should keep an eye on them, just in case,” Stiles snickers in Scott’s ear, loud enough for literally everyone to hear, but the way his best friend elbows him in the ribs one second later makes his smile drop altogether. 

“No need to worry, babe,” Allison says reassuringly, sending an over-exaggerated wink in Theo’s direction, who copies the motion in an irritating way.

They definitely look like they’ve gotten over their stilted meeting, then, Liam thinks. 

Beeeeeeeeep, beeeeeeeep.

The admittedly loud-as-fuck sound of Malia’s car makes everyone there startle, and they all interrupt their conversation - thankfully - in order to turn their gazes on the shining vehicle. In the matter of a second, Hayden throws open the door of the still-moving car and stumbles out, looking every bit as green as Liam’s sure she feels. Corey and Mason shortly appear in sight too, their faces almost invisible from behind the mountain of marshmallows and - torchlights? - filling up their arms. Last of all, Malia rolls down her window to flash them all a wide grin - before quite literally getting out of the car through said window in an impressively graceful manner. 

Honestly, it’s Malia. Liam has learned a lot of time ago to stop questioning anything she does. 

“Hayden looks like she’s gonna throw up everything she ate in the last seven years,” Liam huffs out with a semi-laugh, before sprinting up to reach his friends and help them get safely to their spot. (And also to get away from the remaining friends, but whatever.) 

-------------

He’s about to lose his mind. 

It’s not like he can say the hangout isn’t going well - quite the contrary, in fact - but that’s not the reason why he’s on the brink of storming away. 

Since Malia and the rest of his friends have arrived, they all have settled on the wide Hello Kitty towel in a wonky circle, and everyone’s been chatting with someone almost nonstop for two hours now. 

Still, from his place on the towel where he’s comfortably nested between Mason and Lydia, he can’t help but notice the way-too-frequent glances from Theo, sitting next to Allison and Stiles and exactly in front of Liam.

Honestly, the guy has the nerve to be friends with Liam’s friends, say yes when they ask him to hang out with them , and then stare at Liam for half the time?

Liam is fighting the urge to ask Theo what the fuck he’s looking at, when the sudden sound of Malia’s voice violently snaps him from his thought and brings him back to whatever the rest of his friends are doing. 

“I don’t care what you people are saying, I am gonna go on a swim,” she says, standing up and taking off her purple shirt to reveal her bikini top underneath. 

“You just ate, you can’t swim now,” Lydia tries to knock some sense into her, but her warning goes fairly ignored as more people also start to undress. 

“Don’t be such a buzzkill, let’s goooo,” Allison whines, grabbing Lydia’s hand from where she’s sitting on the towel and trying to get her best friend to stand up. 

“I am not getting stomach issues because you’re all impatient babies who can’t wait an hour,” Lydia pointedly replies, crossing her arms over her chest and turning her head away from her laughing best friend. 

“C’mon, it’s fun!” Liam jumps in, having decided that he won’t let that sorry excuse of an asshole ruin his hangout with his friends, and ultimately throwing his shirt over the pile of other clothes in a corner - some neatly folded (Allison, Hayden, Mason), others all rumpled up (Malia, Corey, Liam, Scott). 

It takes some more poking and prodding from all of them - mostly Allison and Liam, who somehow has a way of convincing Lydia to do shit - but in the end they manage to get a huffing Lydia to agree and swim with them. 

“I swear to God, if I-” Lydia tries to start, but she gets abruptly cut off by Stiles, who sweeps her off her feet in one clean movement and takes off running towards the shoreline. 

They can all faintly hear her screams and colorful threats as they all join the run towards the water, some people still taking off their clothes as they run and almost tripping on someone shirt or shoe, but the loud yelp that escapes Stiles’ mouth as he gets dragged underwater by Lydia’s hand doesn’t go unnoticed by any of the laughing teenagers. 

Liam only gets a yell as a warning before a giggling Scott crashes into him, sending him tumbling to the side and eventually falling on top of the closest person on his left.

Who - thanks to whoever is control of casualties, that clearly thinks they have an impeccable sense of humor - just happens to be Theo . 

“Sorry, man,” Liam apologies, grabbing the guy’s arm to steady himself and stand up - resulting in him falling further over the dude who isn’t drowning just because the water isn’t high enough to do it. 

When Liam runs a hand over his screwed eyes, finally opening them and feeling the sting of the salt in his eyes, he can’t help but simply stare at the situation with his mouth slightly agape. 

“What the fuck .” Liam says ultimately, still firmly on top of Theo and showing no signs of moving anytime soon. 

“ I should be saying that!” Theo replies with a gasp after what feels like ages, pushing Liam off of him and trying to stand up - only to get his foot tangled with Liam’s leg and fall flat on his ass once again. 

“Fuck off,” Liam groans and tries to punch him in the arm, only to realise his hands are still firmly placed on said unfairly toned arm. 

“Get off of me,” Theo spits, shaking his head to get his wet hair out of his face and failing again when he tries to escape the weird position they’ve fallen into. 

“You’re getting water on me, stop it.” Liam mumbles, using his hands to shield himself from the tiny rain of Theo’s hair sending water droplets flying everywhere. 

“You’re in the fucking water, dude,” Theo retorts with a roll of his eyes and an expression that clearly spells out “I can’t believe this idiot”. (Liam could say the same thing, alright?) 

Before Liam can say something stupid or simply punch Theo in the face, he feels a hand on his back and awkwardly turns his head to flash a reassuring smile at Mason - saintly, saintly Mason who has come to his rescue. 

“I would ask what the hell just happened,” Mason starts, grabbing Liam’s shoulders and pulling him up until he’s not suffocating Theo anymore. “but I don’t really wanna know.” 

“Wise choice,” Theo sputters, finally standing up and pushing his hair back. 

At that, Mason and Liam exchange a swift glance, enough for them to communicate a very clear “the fuck”. 

“Didn’t expect that,” Mason whispers with his eyebrows raised when they’re far enough so that Theo’s noisy ass can’t understand. 

“Tell me about it,” Liam agrees, shaking his head and joining whatever game Hayden and Kira are currently playing that involves a quite dangerous use of a volleyball with palms printed on it. 

-------------

The following hours pass between many laughs and an equal amount of threats that would be mildly terrifying if they weren’t spoken by people with fake mustaches drawn on their faces. (Where the marker came from, it’s a mystery.) 

At some point, Allison finds herself sitting on Scott’s shoulders, and in no time a full on competition of who-can-push-the-other-off-first ends up with many people being violently shoved in the water and still managing to laugh their asses off. 

(If Liam kicks Theo in the shin while Hayden and Kira, sitting on their shoulders, fight in a very amusing way, it’s no one’s business.) (If Theo also kicks Liam in some other place shortly after, making him fall with a groan and resulting in Kira winning the match and Hayden hitting Liam for making her lose, it’s no one’s business either.) 

-------------

“Today’s been fun as fuck. We have to do it again,” Theo says decidedly many hours later, when all the food Melissa had so kindly prepared has been polished off and they’re all lying on the row of brightly colored towels they have arranged on the sand. 

“Totally,” Hayden agrees, stretching on the towel and covering her mouth to conceal a yawn. 

“I’m so tired,” Allison groans, scooting closer to Malia to absorb a bit of the other girl’s warmth. 

“I’m cold. Does someone have a blanket?” Stiles mumbles from where he’s basically lying on top of Scott, who’s still chewing on something Liam fails to identify.

“Dude, it’s California,” Liam replies with a confused expression. He looks up to stare at the night sky above him, gaping at all the glistening stars they can’t usually see due to light pollution in town. 

“Shut up, or do you want me to tell Theo about that time you ran n-” 

Liam doesn’t let Stiles finish his potentially dangerous sentence, scrambling to throw himself on Stiles and put a hand on his mouth as the older boy yelps.

“I already know it.” Theo says, drawing everyone’s eyes on him - some more confused than others. 

“What-” Liam hears someone say, but his attention is caught by Stiles licking his palm to get him off. Liam scrunches up his face in disgust and wipes his hand on Stiles' shirt, before working up his brain to come up with a plausible excuse. 

“Dude, shut up,” is the only thing that comes out of his mouth, as he shoots Theo a warning glance that also says “what the fuck”. 

In response, the older boy breaks into his characteristic and infuriating little smirk, all while intertwining his hands and putting them under his head in the biblically accurate depiction of satisfaction.

“I am so confused by all this, but also tell me more,” Corey stage-whispers, earning giggles from the group and an embarrassed chuckle from Liam.

“It’s nothing. He’s kidding,” he reassures his best friend, slowly crawling back to his towel next to Theo and daring to settle down again. 

“I am not-” Theo sputters, but before he can add something else, Liam elbows him hard in the ribs, drawing a rather creative curse and a kick back from the boy. 

“Listen, I don’t wanna know.” Lydia mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose and slightly shaking her head. 

“Kira fell asleep. Can I throw her in the water again?” Malia asks at some point, breaking the comfortable silence they’d fallen into and making everyone erupt in a fit of “no, what the fuck, don’t” and “yes, do it now”.

In the end, Kira ends up in the water. Malia does too, a second after. Liam finds himself lifted off the ground and violently thrown in the water a beat later, though he can’t find the culprit and decides to punish everyone in a five feet radius. 

Chapter Text

Theo didn’t expect it either, to be fair. 

After that admittedly endless match that only ended up in his utter disappointment, all he wanted to do was go out with his friends and get royally wasted - if to drown his frustration or to get away from the cheers of the Beacon Hills High team, he didn’t know nor care. 

Still, the sight of the celebrating teenagers in maroon wasn’t the reason for his sulky mood - not entirely, at least. 

At the time, he wasn’t sure if what he felt in the intricate depth of his heart could be defined as disappointment or somehow anger - maybe a bit of both, tinted with bitter resignation - but he he quickly found his attention stolen from the empty spots in the stands, where his parents should’ve sat next to Tara, Tracy and Josh, to all-too-familiar heads slowly approaching him.

At first, he was admittedly confused as fuck. After a beat, he guessed that he had to show some sort of reaction to whatever had just happened. 

He was happy - under the veil of surprise that clearly showed on his face and that he tried to conceal as he could  - to see his old best friends again, decidedly taller and slightly less awkward (yes, Scott, you’re still awkward as fuck), but his old best friends nonetheless. 

The warmth of their hugs was still the same, their weird and over-complicated handshake that each of them slightly changed every time was still deeply rooted in each of their teenage brains, and the glistening light in their smiling eyes made Theo almost believe that they were back to their old nine-year-old selves - matching toothless grins and scraped knees too. 

He knew it was too good to be true, deep in his chest. 

Still, he let Stiles ask him some stupid questions Theo didn’t feel like answering, feeling the barrier of embarrassment between them slowly thaw  - for as much as they could possibly do after not seeing each other for seven years. 

When his eyes fell on the shorter frame behind Stiles’ shoulders, Theo’s brain short-circuited on the spot. Genuinely, his remaining brain cells promptly jumped out of his ears, leaving him to his own devices as he tried to muster up his thoughts enough to form an opinion and maybe a reaction, too. 

His ears caught on the sound of Stiles’ voice introducing them, and the infinitesimal part of Theo foolishly hoping to be hallucinating dissolved as Stiles’ pronounced those syllables. 

Honestly, he thought he would never see him again. Hoped that confusing slice of his life was over before he could start questioning himself too much about it. 

Now, he’s not sure of why in that moment his head decided that the best thing he could possibly do was yank Liam by his hand and fully pretend that he didn’t know him or anything, but he figures that it’s too late to regret it or do anything about it. 

Still, he physically cringes at the thought, even though the image of the embarrassed pink flush creeping on Liam’s cheeks makes him smile nonetheless. 

He’s not sure of why Liam chose to go along with him when he could’ve called him out and embarrassed him in front of Stiles and Scott, but he’s glad that the younger boy seemed to share his enthusiasm about pretending to not know each other at all. 

When Liam decided to rub his team’s victory in Theo’s already sore face, he found himself rolling his eyes in mild annoyance and biting his tongue to avoid saying anything that could’ve given away their blatant lie - but Liam, the fucking child, clearly interpreted it as Theo admitting his defeat - and let his pink mouth curl into a smirk.  

The violent clap on the shoulder is what sent Theo on the brink of shattering his well-crafted façade, but before he could say or do anything potentially harmful, Liam had already carefully retreated to his locker room, dragging his friends back with him. 

The last thing Theo’s ears registered was the sound of Scott’s rather intelligible yell, screaming something about them having to hang out sometimes before he was off and out of his vision. 

On the mildly short drive to the house where the party Tracy had chosen was supposed to be hosted, Theo found himself way more distracted than usual - his eyes casually staring at the dark road ahead to avoid a crash, while countless thoughts swirled around in his head - but he was too tired to do something about it. 

He mindlessly chatted with Tara - sat in the passenger seat for the sole purpose of choosing the music - who spent seven minutes straight justifying their parents and why they hadn’t showed up, until Theo rolled his eyes and told her that he couldn’t have cared less. His team had lost, after all, he really didn’t need to see his parents’ disappointed faces on top of everything. 

After that, his ears tuned out pretty much every kind of sound, catching snippets of conversations he wasn’t interested in at all until Tracy broke her chattering with Josh in the backseat to ask what was wrong with him. 

“I’m just tired. And I wanna get drunk.” He dismissed her, waving his hand and letting a half smirk - that felt more like a grimace - form on his face, before turning his attention back to the road. 

He was aware of the fact that the three of them could perfectly tell it was bullshit - even though he claimed his poker face was flawless, his friends were friends for a reason - but again, his head was pounding and he didn’t care enough. 

“Oh, we are getting drunk,” Josh yelled from his seat, earning a collective cheer from the rest of the passengers as he certainly hoped it would bring the spirits up. 

-------------

Later that night, when the alcohol in his system made his vision blurry and his head heavy, he made the horrible decision of unlocking his phone, only to realize his previous mistake: giving Scott his phone number. 

Just like he dreaded, Scott had added him to some sort of group chat, where so many people he only knew by name were now greeting him and welcoming him with a shit ton of messages he didn’t feel like replying to. 

Still, with heavy fingertips that made him type words five times until he got them right, he managed to reply to said messages, hoping everyone was too drunk to sustain a conversation. 

Turned out Stiles’ sentences had the same amount of sense when he was drunk as much as when he was sober, and despite his brain screaming at him to go to sleep, Theo thought that he couldn’t stop replying altogether, and kept typing message after message until he realized more time than he’d thought had passed. 

He blissfully chose to ignore how Liam showed no signs of life for the whole time, along with the unusual twist of his heart at the welcoming texts of those people who were mere strangers and still acted as if they were his closest friends. 

When his eyelids started to droop and his brain had completely given out, he typed the last message and set his phone on his bedside table, burying his face in his pillow with a groan - in the hope of suffocating his confusing feelings in the meanwhile. 

-------------

Theo loves his sister. 

Honestly, he truly does. 

She’s been his protector and partner in crime since they were nothing more than children with big eyes and bigger dreams, carrying their ruined plushies around like lucky charms as if they could use them to shield themselves from adversities and such. 

Now, when their dreams have been shoved into locked drawers and their plushies have been lost somewhere they never bother to check, they’re still as tight. 

Whatever, you get the point. 

However , right now Theo wishes he could murder her. 

That, if he had the energy to get out of his very comfortable and warm bed. 

Now more than ever, he feels incredibly jealous of Tara’s unflinching ability to simply not get a hangover - regardless of how much or what she drinks, as if she’s been built omitting useless flaws that normal people like Theo have to bear - especially so when she decides to start vacuuming the entire house at half past ass o’clock on a Saturday morning. After a party where they both got royally drunk, he might add. 

“Tara, shut the fuck up!” He yells, screwing his eyes shut when he feels like his head is on the verge of exploding. 

He’s fairly sure he hears Tara shouting a quick “Sorry!” in response, but he’s too busy rolling in his bed and groaning in his pillow to care about it. 

His ears pick up on a relentless string of “beep” coming from his phone, and after what feels like an entire lifetime during which he wonders if he should stay in bed forever and cut off all of his relationships (which aren’t many, someone in his head that sounds an awful lot like Tara suggests), he finally cracks an eye open long enough to grab his phone and nearly tumble off the bed in the meanwhile. 

When he notices that most of the notifications are from that stupid group chat he’s one second away from blocking, he wants to throw his phone out of the window and go back to sleep, which is exactly what he does. (Eternally grateful that his phone doesn’t actually fall out of the window and simply lands on the carpet by his bed.)

-------------

Sunday, 10th of March 

the best pack out there!! 

Liam: captainamerica  

Mason: avocadon   

Corey: corneliuss 

Hayden: hayday 

Scott - wolfywolf 

Stiles - onlybraincell 

Lydia - fashionlydia 

Allison - tslovergirll

Malia: - mathater 

Kira - hellokira 

Theo - gaslighter 

[7:12 am] hayday: ur simply wrong babe

[7:12 am] hayday: admit ur defeat 

[7:13 am] captainamerica: literally never idgaf

[7:13 am] corneliuss: dude shes right 

[7:13 am] captainamerica: i wanna hear ur reasoning

[7:13 am] mathater: what reasoning

[7:13 am] mathater: wtf are u talking abt 

[7:13 am] tslovergirll: and why are u awake at this ungodly hour 

[7:13 am] mathater: no honestly i dont want to know 

[7:14 am] mathater: go back to sleep 

[7:14 am] tslovergirll: fr

[7:14 am] captainamerica: cant do that sorry 

[7:14 am] captainamerica: tryna prove a point here

[7:15 am] hayday: a terribly wrong one 

[7:15 am] tslovergirll: ???

[7:15 am] corneliuss: they’re arguing abt history 

[7:15 am] corneliuss: i was trying to knock some sense into them 

[7:15 am] corneliuss: but i gave up so now im enjoying the show

[7:15 am] captainamerica: we’re not arguing im right and u know it 

[7:15 am] hayday: no ur not 

[7:15 am] corneliuss: ur welcome to join me

[7:15 am] mathater: oh yes 

[7:16 am] tslovergirll: i’ll join too 

[7:16 am] hayday: history is boring as fuck just admit it 

[7:16 am] captainamerica: it’s so not 

[7:16 am] captainamerica: just say u havent got the brain for it 

[7:16 am] hayday: you clearly havent got the brain for biology

[7:16 am] avocadon: lmaoo

[7:16 am] hayday: where did u come from 

[7:17 am] avocadon: i appear where chaos manifests 

[7:17 am] mathater: anyway hayden’s right

[7:17 am] mathater: history sucks

[7:17 am] captainamerica: uncultured swines 

[7:17 am] hayday: oh big words 

[7:17 am] captainamerica: stfu 

[7:17 am] gaslighter: Agree, biology’s superior. 

-------------

Theo sends the message before the three working brain cells left in his head can stop him, and for a second he’s ashamed to admit that his breath hitches in his throat when no one replies. 

If someone ever confronted him about it, he would deny it forever and maybe commit his first murder, but he actually cares about people’s opinions a lot more than it shows. 

Yes, he acts tough and calculating in front of anyone who doesn’t know him enough to tell it’s all bullshit, but deep in his heart he craves validation more than anything else. 

So yeah, when no one calls him out or says anything outside of the conversation that’s still heatedly going on, Theo releases a tiny sigh of relief that he didn’t realize he was holding and lets his shoulders sag slightly. 

-------------

[7:17 am] hayday: THANK YOU

[7:18 am] captainamerica: stfu omg 

[7:18 am] corneliuss: see even theo disagrees 

[7:18 am] captainamerica: his opinion doesnt matter anyway

[7:18 am] gaslighter: You only say that because you’re wrong. 

[7:18 am] captainamerica: im not talking to u if u type like that 

[7:18 am] gaslighter: I still don’t understand your problem with proper punctuation. 

[7:19 am] captainamerica: u can shove ur proper punctuation up ur ass x 

[7:19 am] gaslighter: Cute. 

[7:19 am] gaslighter: By the way, you’re deflecting.

[7:19 am] captainamerica: im not

[7:19 am] gaslighter: You are.

[7:19 am] corneliuss: this is so funny 

[7:20 am] captainamerica: dude u should back me up

[7:20 am] corneliuss: nuh uh 

[7:20 am] captainamerica: i dont like this team effort against me

[7:20 am] hayday: suck it up 

[7:20 am] captainamerica: 🖕

[7:20 am] captainamerica: i hate u 

[7:20 am] hayday: u love me 

[7:21 am] captainamerica: i dont anymore 

[7:21 am] gaslighter: Still diverting the attention, by the way. 

[7:21 am] captainamerica: ur so fucking annoying

[7:21 am] captainamerica: has anyone ever told u that 

[7:21 am] gaslighter: A few people, yes. 

[7:21 am] gaslighter: It’s rather amusing.

[7:21 am] captainamerica: will u stop omfg 

-------------

Theo is, admittedly, trying to piss Liam off. 

He may be a stickler for proper grammar and never fails to correct people when they make stupid mistakes, but he still has a shred of sense left in his body. 

Enough to share the sentiment that, in fact, “proper punctuation” in text messages is a hell-worthy punishment that no sane person should condone. 

It simply hurts his brain, as much as anyone else’s. 

So yeah, he’s fucking with them all, just because it’s fun and he’s kind of a dick like that. 

Sue him. 

-------------

[7:21 am] gaslighter: nah

[7:22 am] captainamerica: DUDE

[7:22 am] captainamerica: YOU CAN TEXT NORMALLY

[7:22 am] captainamerica: DUDEE

[7:22 am] avocadon: LMFAOAOAOAAO

[7:22 am] corneliuss: OMG U CAN??

[7:22 am] hayday: REALLY 

[7:22 am] onlybraincell: BRO

[7:23 am] onlybraincell: CMON

[7:23 am] wolfywolf: DUDE ARE YOU SERIOUS 

[7:23 am] tslovergirll: R U KIDDING ME

[7:24 am] mathater: guys stfu no one cares

[7:24 am] mathater: OMG??? 

[7:24 am] hellokira: ARE U FR

[7:24 am] hellokira: YOU GOT ME BRAIN DAMAGE FOR NOTHING??

[7:24 am] fashionlydia: whats happening why is everyone awake

[7:24 am] fashionlydia: what tf did you wake me up for

[7:24 am] fashionlydia: OH 

[7:25 am] onlybraincell: AND HE FUCKING FLEES

[7:25 am] onlybraincell: DUDEEE

[7:25 am] captainamerica: oh my god

[7:25 am] onlybraincell: @gaslighter

[7:25 am] onlybraincell: @gaslighter

[7:25 am] onlybraincell: @gaslighter

[7:25 am] onlybraincell: @gaslighter

[7:25 am] onlybraincell: @gaslighter

[7:25 am] onlybraincell: @gaslighter

[7:25 am] onlybraincell: @gaslighter

[7:26 am] onlybraincell: @gaslighter

-------------

He finds it quite funny, to be completely honest. 

Can’t blame him for that. 

Anyway, the moment doesn’t last long enough for the smile to fade completely from his face - or better, it does , but for entirely another reason. 

Jacob Raeken is the worst type of businessman. Constantly clad in a dark blue suit and with a glass of whiskey perpetually held in his cold hand, he’s part of that group of people who speak little and act even less, everlasting charming smiles and empty promises and pure nothing under the rich fabric. 

He barely speaks to his son, these days even less than usual, but when he does it’s definitely not for a pleasant father-son conversation or a nice teaching opportunity. 

Theo knows this, and has been used to it since he was nothing more than a little boy with perpetually scratched knees and a deep fear of the dark in his empty room. 

So, of course, when his father enters his room, not even bothering to knock as if Theo was a human being entitled to his own privacy, Theo’s reflexes act automatically, making his shoulders stiffen and his face fall blank as he makes quick work of hiding his phone under his pillow. 

“Theodore.” His father addresses him, his tone emotionless as always as he approaches his son. 

His father may be slightly taller than the average man, but even considering this he never fails to occupy all the space in Theo’s room, almost leaving him gasping for air.

Theo raises his head slightly, his jaw clenched, but his eyes remain pointedly fixed on analyzing the fabric of his sweatpants. 

“A formal dinner will be kindly hosted by a colleague of mine this Thursday at seven o'clock p.m., and we will all attend it. So cancel any plan you have for that day.” 

And without missing a beat, his father promptly walks out of the room, any possible reply from Theo clearly unimportant to him. 

Theo waits until the sound of his footsteps disappears, signaling that his father is out of hearing range, before punching his pillow repeatedly and then burrowing his face in it to let out a muffled sound between a scream and a groan. 

Really, what was he expecting? It’s not like his opinion has ever mattered in that household to anyone else but Tara, and despite being his perfect older sister, there’s not much she can do this time. 

He’s not even that annoyed by the dinner, or by the fact that he’ll have to wear another uncomfortable suit that will leave him itching for the whole night. It’s not even the fact that he will have to shake hands and engage in small talks with stuffy people who think they have a right to judge everyone and anyone in their sight. 

No. What leaves his stomach in uncomfortable knots and makes his fists ball up until his nails are digging in the palms of his hands is the fact that his father didn’t even care to ask him if he wanted to go, or if he had other things to do, or if he had a game to practice for. He simply informed him that he would have to attend and expected him to be completely fine with it. 

He screws his eyes shut tightly, sighing and letting his body fall back on the bed. 

Whatever, fucking whatever . 

-------------

the liar, the bitch, and her slutty wardrobe 

Tracy: liar 

Theo: bitch

Josh: sluttywardrobe 

[8:09 am] bitch: guys asshole alert 

[8:09 am] bitch: cant make it thursday

[8:09 am] liar: dude its eight in the fucking morning what do u want 

[8:10 am] liar: oh fuck

[8:10 am] sluttywardrobe: sensible explanation for this 

[8:10 am] sluttywardrobe: i was sleeping 

[8:10 am] liar: dude can u read 

[8:10 am] sluttywardrobe: oh fuck

[8:11 am] bitch: yeah 

[8:11 am] bitch: sorry 

[8:11 am] liar: our offer is still valid

[8:11 am] sluttywardrobe: real just tell us date and time 

[8:12 am] bitch: you’re not kidnapping my dad

[8:12 am] bitch: wouldn’t have the money to bail u out of jail without him 

[8:12 am] sluttywardrobe: bold of u to assume we would get caught 

[8:12 am] bitch: u got caught by ur neighbor 

[8:12 am] bitch: he’s like a hundred years old 

[8:12 am] sluttywardrobe: fuck u i was drunk 

[8:12 am] bitch: not that different from when ur sober 

[8:12 am] sluttywardrobe: die 

[8:12 am] bitch: i wish 

[8:13 am] liar: enough with the bitching im picking u up at nine

[8:13 am] liar: josh get out of bed 

[8:13 am] sluttywardrobe: yes sir 

[8:13 am] liar: ew 

[8:13 am] sluttywardrobe: fuck u then 

[8:13 am] liar: ditto 

[8:14 am] bitch: who says i want to come

[8:14 am] liar: me 

[8:14 am] sluttywardrobe: u heard her 

[8:14 am] bitch: worst emotional support group ever 

[8:14 am] liar: go to a therapist if u want support 

[8:14 am] sluttywardrobe: no dont you’d get them to leave their job 

[8:14 am] sluttywardrobe: or commit 

[8:14 am] bitch: cute 

-------------

A few minutes later, Tara tiptoes into Theo’s room as quietly as she can, sensing the tense atmosphere and grimacing when Theo doesn’t say anything snarky when he sees her in his room without permission. 

“Sorry about Dad,” she whispers, sitting on the bed next to him. 

He doesn’t lift his gaze from his phone, and shrugs as he turns it off and dumps it in his lap. 

“I don’t give a fuck, anyway.” 

“You give so many fucks.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Articulated.” 

Just then, Theo lifts his hand high enough to punch Tara in the arm, earning a kick in retaliation that could’ve been much stronger if she’d been mad for real. 

“Really, though. I know he’s a dick.” She tries again, the apology in her tone just barely noticeable. 

“Not to you.” He mutters back, though it doesn’t hold his usual bite. After all, it’s not really Tara’s fault if she’s the favorite child. 

“But he is to you . And I sadly care about your stupid ass.” Tara retorts, kissing her teeth as if she’s annoyed by her own statement. 

“How nice of you,” he replies, wiping a fake tear from under his eye. 

“I thought so too.” Tara grins in response, turning her head to face Theo as he rolls his eyes at her antics. 

Before either of them can say anything, a notification pops up on his screen, and his eyes go wide as he registers the time. 

“Fuck, I’m so late,” he frantically says, standing up and rushing to the bathroom to shower. 

“Where are you going?” Tara inquires when Theo comes back to his room, kicking on his shoes as if he’s not still brushing his teeth. 

“Out.” He replies usefully around a mouthful of toothpaste. 

“I figured that.” Tara adds in a mocking tone, throwing the missing shoe at Theo, who gets hit squarely in the chest. 

“With Tracy and Josh,” He throws another shoe at his sister, who catches it easily as if she’s the one who claims to be a natural talent at sports. 

“Of course,” she responds, adding a muttered “they’re your only friends,” under her breath that earns her a shove from Theo as he strolls back to the bathroom. 

“Okay, bye!” Theo yells as he skips down the stairs, almost tripping and dying as he goes. 

“Have fun!” Tara screams back as he wanders back to her own room, shutting the door and turning on the music that Theo claims is utter shit. 

-------------

“You have to try it! I promise it’s good!”  

“I’d rather live at least until I can legally drink.”

“As if that has ever stopped you.” 

Theo laughs as he pointedly turns down Josh’s attempts at murdering him before he can celebrate even his seventeenth birthday, while Tracy snorts as she obnoxiously sucks from her straw. 

“It tastes like diabetes . Eurgh,” Tracy grimaces and pretends to be throwing up, while Josh pretends to be mortally outraged by her clear disrespect towards his choice of beverage and Theo giggles like a little kid. 

 “Hey, isn’t that the kid you hate?” Josh interrupts his slurping to point with his head towards a near bench where - much to Theo’s despair - Liam is sitting with his friends. 

His sandy hair has been trimmed short again, not falling over his eyes and hiding them anymore, and the sun rays directly shining into his irises and making them glisten like the surface of a lake during summer don’t seem to be bothering him that much. 

“Fuck’s sake.” Theo mutters under his breath, taking a sip of his coffee in the most passive-aggressive way someone could possibly manage. 

“Wait, was he there yesterday?” Tracy asks, the hint of a smirk appearing on her plump lips. 

“Screw that, who’s that girl next to him?” Josh interrupts, pointing to the giggling brunette next to Liam. 

“His girlfriend or something. Her name’s Hayden,” Theo supplies mindlessly as he twirls the straw in his coffee, not even thinking about the words slipping past his lips. 

“Man, she’s gorgeous.” Josh stage-whispers, earning a loud smack from Tracy. 

“Shut up.” She says, rolling her eyes. “You know his friends’ names now?” She muses, and it’s Theo’s turn to roll his eyes. 

Honestly, they should win some sort of prize for most eye-rolling people in California. 

“They’re actually fun. I think he’s the only annoying exception in his friend group.” 

“Damn,” both Tracy and Josh whisper. 

“The car’s over there, though. Do we wait ‘till they go away, or-” Josh asks after a beat, when his drink has been finished and there’s nothing else stopping him from his constant yapping. 

“I’m not waiting for them. Let’s go,” Tracy replies in everyone’s name, stalking over to where Liam’s still obnoxiously chatting and laughing like the idiot that he is. 

They almost succeed in their goal, Josh already sitting in the passenger seat, before a voice makes Theo freeze in his tracks. 

“Theo?” Corey asks, standing up and subsequently drawing everyone’s attention on Theo. 

In response, Theo turns to face him and offers the best version of a fake smile he can muster up, which turns out to be fairly credible as Corey - and his three friends in tow - inch closer. 

Before anyone can add anything else, Josh suddenly finds himself in front of Theo, extending his hand for Corey to shake and slapping a charming grin on his face. 

“I’m Josh, Theo's extremely handsome best friend, but you probably already knew tha-” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because Tracy subtly elbows him in the ribs and steps ahead to shake Corey’s hand first, introducing herself with a sly smirk, and then passing on to Mason and Hayden. 

Theo groans imperceptibly and wishes they’d been faster to reach the car, but greets his newly acquired friends nonetheless, some with more energy than others. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Tracy muttering something that vaguely sounds like a threat to a fairly scared Liam, as she shakes his hand and smiles sweetly. 

“We really gotta go now, though, right?” Josh breaks the small talk at some point, not-so-subtly eyeing Theo and Tracy as the rest of the teens exchange half-amused and half-confused glances.

“Yeah, we gotta go,” Tracy confirms in a much more plausible tone, shaking her head with a smile on her lips, as she gives Hayden’s phone back to the girl after typing in her own phone number. 

Hayden smiles back and eyes Tracy once again when Theo stops in front of Liam, as if to say, I can’t believe these fucking idiots , and Tracy returns the glance as if to say, I know . 

Much to everyone’s surprise, the prolonged proximity doesn’t end with a fistfight and broken noses. 

Yes, their gazes beg to disagree, but all that matters is that they don’t publicly display their hatred - at least not physically.

Instead, Mason steps in between them to break their weirdly heated session of eye contact, resulting in Theo faintly shaking his head as if he’s coming back to his senses or something, and taking a wide step back. 

“We’ll, uhm, go now. Bye!” Corey says with a tight smile, physically dragging Liam and Mason away as Hayden snickers and waves behind them. 

Mirroring the boy, Josh grabs Theo’s arm and shoves him not-so-gently until he’s sat in the backseat, scowl on his face as if he were a kid whose candy has been taken away. 

-------------

Theo hates living in a small town. 

It’s not enough, he thinks, the fact that judging people simply trying to get on with their lives seems to be everyone’s favorite hobby, or that you can’t do a single thing without it becoming that week’s most heated topic. 

On top of that, people seem to be following you around. 

He figures that with Beacon Hills being a small town, you’re bound to meet at least five people you know every time you step out of the door, even if it’s just to reach the corner store. 

The thing that bothers Theo the most is not the whole “meeting-people-he-knows” business, it’s more the “meeting-people-he-knows-and-hates”. 

Now, given the fact that Theo Raeken is a true hater at heart, the people he doesn’t hate can be counted on the fingers of one hand, and he would still have enough fingers left to do the peace sign. 

Still, the people he hates can be divided in three categories, depending on the degree of hatred he feels towards them. 

We have category one: General Annoyance . Here, a fair 70% percent of the population resides, and by that he refers to all the people he doesn’t think about enough to be part of other categories, or who he doesn’t talk to enough to be anything other than mildly annoyed by them. About 60% of his town can be found here if he's having a good day. 

Strong Distaste is category number two. Most of the kids in his school bide in this middle category: all the way-too-arrogant teammates he pretends to like, who believe that winning the first place medal for “loudest and dumbest kid in school” is something to be proud of; the mean girls that seem to like him and the rest of the lacrosse team so much, who think that making someone run into traffic is a fun activity to spend their time on, instead of occupying their days with more useful things like - to name something from the top of his head - build an actual personality. 

Anyway, you get the idea. 

Still, if he happens to run into someone belonging in the aforementioned categories, he simply grimaces and steps into the first store he bypasses, or - if he’s not that lucky and they actually notice him - slaps on a charming smile and invents some excuse they certainly believe. 

But no, the dangerous people are all huddled up in the last, dreadful category: Pure Loathing . He usually has to know these people a decent amount, and he really wishes he didn’t. He also usually has some sort of history with these people, enough to be part of the worst category in his book. 

Now, when he’s wandering the streets to escape his suffocating household and is unlucky enough to catch one of these people, he’s not above faking his death on the spot to avoid talking to them. More often than not, these people happen to be disliking him too, which brings them to rounds of eye-contact with their eyes narrowed down to slits, that’s somehow even worse than the small talk. 

These kinds of people leave him cursing himself for even choosing to step out of his house that day, and it’s not a pleasant feeling. 

Liam is the landlord in the last category. 

Having to spend a whole afternoon with Liam has already cost him too many brain cells, and running into him and his friends when Theo’s supposed to be freeing his mind from any stressful thing is not exactly his ideal morning. 

In the end, surprisingly enough, it doesn’t even matter that much. 

Wanting to get away from his family as much as he can, Theo ends up splayed on Josh’s bed after a long day of walking around, joysticks in their hands as they both complain that Tracy can still beat them both even while reapplying nail polish. 

“It’s not my fault you guys suck ,” she shrugs, inspecting her nails on one hand while she casually kills Theo’s avatar with the other. 

“Fuck off,” Theo groans, flopping back on the bed and covering his face with his hands. He stares at the screen long enough to see Josh’s avatar lose his life and disintegrate, while Tracy’s avatar runs around in celebration, her tiny gun held high over her head. 

“It’s fucking rigged!” Josh complains, making Tracy erupt into giggles. 

“I repeat. You guys suck !” She sings-songs, laughing even harder upon noticing the scowls on the boys’ faces. 

“Quit gloating.” Theo mutters, rolling his eyes and throwing his joystick next to him. 

“What’s the point in winning if you can’t gloat?” Tracy replies, her lips curling into a smug smile. 

“You gloated enough for a lifetime the first five games that you won.” Josh mutters, though he doesn’t seem that annoyed anymore. 

Theo stretches, his limbs aching from where he’s been sitting in an uncomfortable position for a ton of time, and takes advantage of the rare moment of silence to speak. 

“By the way, can I crash here tonight? Don’t wanna go home yet.” 

He’s not sure of why he always feels a strange feeling in his chest whenever he asks someone for something, even if he knows they’re going to say yes without a complaint. 

After all, Josh is his best friend. They’ve been through it all together, and both him and Tracy have seen so many embarrassing things that - if they ever fought seriously enough to stop being friends - Theo’s only option would be to kill them and bury their bodies in his backyard. 

“Sure, man, I miss sleepovers,” Josh replies, rolling over until he’s at the edge of the bed. 

“We had a sleepover two weeks ago.” Tracy deadpans, blowing on her nails. 

“Exactly. Too much time.” 

-------------

private chat 

Tara: T1

Theo: T2 

T2: btw im staying at josh’s

T2: can u tell mom 

T1: sure

T2: thx 

T1: np

-------------

“Dude, it’s disgusting!” Theo grimaces as he points to the screen, pretending to be retching at the image on the television. 

“It’s real life, buddy,” Josh says, patting Theo’s head as if to say I know, I know .

“Real life, my ass.” Theo bites back, slapping Josh’s hand away with no intent of actually hurting him. 

“Children, silence please.” Tracy shushes them, waving her freshly manicured hand between the two boys. 

“You’re literally the youngest here,” Josh replies, throwing a pillow at her. 

“Real mature, Diaz.” Tracy shakes her head, but she throws the pillow back anyway - which, by the way, ends up hitting Theo squarely in the face - initiating a real pillow fight, horror movie forgotten on the tv in front of them. 

-------------

Much time later, when Tracy has been bribed into spending the night too and all three of them have found their respective places in the bedroom, Theo lies awake. 

The mattress that has been claimed as his at this point is comfortable and warm, and he’s tired enough to be able to sleep, but something stops his eyelids from drooping. 

He doesn’t question it, doesn’t care enough to waste his time. 

He thinks about checking his phone, but he doesn’t want to think about anything in particular right now.  

He trashes around for what feels like hours but he’s sure are minutes, until he finds a position comfortable enough and he eventually falls asleep, dreaming about a dining room and itchy suits. 

Chapter Text

Monday, 11th of March

Sleeping at Josh’s wasn’t a good idea. 

Crashing at anyone’s place when he knows that the following morning he will have to wake up at an ungodly hour just to go home and get ready for school, is generally not a good idea. 

Still, Theo is certainly not known for his good decisions. 

You may have heard about his incredible ability to be amazing at everything he does, his exceptional brain or his well-practiced charming smirk, but making the right choices when the moment comes is not one of his best skills. 

(Nor is modesty, but we’ll ignore that bit for now.) 

Now, considering the previously mentioned fact, we can guess that he’s not in the best mood when he stands in front of the bathroom mirror in Josh’s house, purple eye bags marking the skin under his eyes and not a drop of energy left in his body. 

He sits on the toilet, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, hoping he’ll look slightly more alive after a shower and breakfast. 

The sun hasn’t risen yet, and the dark sky outside of the tiny window makes him want to go back to sleep and possibly stay there forever. 

He’s pretty much used to sleepless nights in which he paces uselessly around his room, looking for rest in the cracks of the paint covering his walls until the light starts to peek from behind his shutters and he has no other choice but go on with his day. 

It doesn’t mean that he won’t spend the whole time it takes for him to get ready sulking about, until he’s no longer alone and has to pretend to be wide awake enough to keep up his reputation as a perfect student. 

He can’t afford to be booted off the team because he fell asleep during practice, or to get a bad grade because he can’t keep his eyes open, can he? 

“You okay in there?” Theo jumps awake at the sound of Josh’s voice, his hand dropping from where it was fidgeting with the strings of his pajama pants as he raises his head. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, voice raspy from disuse as he fumbles to unlock the bathroom’s door and let Josh inside. 

The boy eyes him warily as he steps into the small bathroom, no doubt noticing the ashy state of Theo’s face, but chooses not to mention the fact. 

Instead, he offers: “I can lend you some clothes if you don’t wanna go home,” as he brushes his teeth, toothbrush dangling from his mouth. 

Theo turns down the offer with a shake of his head for the third time that morning, eternally grateful for his best friend as he swallows the perpetual lump in his dry throat. 

“Nah, thanks, man,” he smiles as he stands, clapping Josh on the shoulder before leaving the room. 

“Dear God ,” he hears Tracy mutter under her breath, looking surprisingly neat, already in her clothes and ready to give Theo a ride back home, though the sullen expression on her face mirrors Theo’s perfectly. 

“Ready in a sec,” he tells her, moving to gather his clothes from where he’d artfully folded them the night prior and go change in the bathroom. 

Tracy nods in response, a smile twisting at her lips, before she leaves the room altogether. After a beat, Theo hears a vague sound and what seems to be Tracy cursing colorfully under her breath, cut off by the sound of the front door shutting closed.  

-------------

His house is silent when Theo walks in. 

He suspects his parents have already gone to work, no trace of them in the living room when he steps in. 

Running upstairs, he makes quick work of showering and changing, throwing in his backpack all the neatly written notes spread out on his desk and shoving his keys in his pocket. 

He stops for a second to fix his hair as best as he can in the tiny mirror next to his desk, taking a moment to wink at his reflection like the most cliché teenager ever created. 

He quietly tiptoes into Tara’s room when he doesn’t hear any noise coming from it, and almost dies of heart attack when a gust of wind coming from the open window violently shuts the door behind him. 

Tara, who was still sleeping for some reason unknown to Theo, jerks awake with a gasp, a hand coming to rest on her rapidly beating heart. 

“What the fuck ?” She asks, eyes wide and breath still heaving. Which, in Theo’s opinion, is a tad too dramatic. 

“Why are you still sleeping?” He inquires, leaning against the doorframe as if the weight of his textbooks in his backpack were breaking his back. 

“Why don’t you mind your business?” She replies, falling back onto the bed with a sigh as if she were a Victorian child. 

Theo lifts his head from where he was fidgeting with a Rubik’s cube on Tara’s desk, throwing it in the air and then catching it as if it were a ball. 

“Chill. Just wanted to ask if you needed a ride. Clearly you don-” he begins, setting the newly-solved cube down on the desk once again.

“Jude will take me.” Tara waves him off, grabbing her phone from the nightstand and beginning to type something. 

“Jude?” Theo - ever the noisy shit - teases, raising a questioning eyebrow as his mouth curls in a smirk. 

“He’s my friend . Shut the fuck up.” Tara mutters, rolling her eyes in the biblical depiction of annoyance. 

“Keep telling yourself that,” he whispers condescendingly. 

“What would you know? You’re the definition of oblivious,” she scoffs, twisting her neck to look at him.

“Uhm, not true?”

“Keep telling yourself that,” she replies with a huff, turning back to her phone. 

Before Theo can choose between any of his possible sarcastic retorts, Tracy’s voice yells something about him getting his ass downstairs, forcing him to leave his sister’s room in a rush. 

-------------

“Does he really think he’s funny?” Tracy stage-whispers with a roll of her eyes, earning a collective laugh and a few scoffs. 

“ Yes , Stewart, but I doubt you’d know fun,” Jacob Richards smirks, running his eyes up and down Tracy’s frame. 

“How about you shut up?” Theo interferes with an annoyed sigh, briefly looking up from his phone. 

Really, he’s not going to waste his time with a colossal douchebag such as Richards. It’s already bad enough that he has to put up with him every day at practice, he won’t spend a single more minute with him if he can avoid it. 

“Aww, standing up for your girlfriend, are you?” Richards coos, and Theo has to physically retain himself from punching his self-important face. Theo thinks that if Richards turns up to the ER with a broken nose, they’ll pity him enough to give him a free nose job, in the foolish hope of fixing his face somehow. 

Honestly, he thinks it has to do with the name. Must be a free pass for assholery or something. 

“You jealous?” Theo retorts instead, raising an eyebrow and letting a half-smirk form on his face when Richards splutters in response. 

“You know she could do so much better, right? She just feels sorry for you.” The boy says after a beat, and all Theo can do is laugh in his face. 

“Aw, thank you,” Tracy coos with a flippant smile, waving her hand in the air. 

“Was that supposed to be an insult?” Theo asks, struggling to keep his face somehow neutral. He exchanges an unbelieving glance with Tracy, both of them knowing that the girl will recall this precise moment for days, until either of them find someone else entertaining enough to make fun of during their hangouts. 

“You know what? I really don’t get why girls are so obsessed with you,” 

Their attention is caught by Richards once again, his mouth apparently trying to ruin the last shreds of his reputation. 

“Maybe because I’m not so self-obsessed?” Theo offers, a judging eyebrow already climbing up his forehead. 

Beside him, Tracy tries to cover her snort with a cough - clearly disagreeing with Theo and his ubiquitous modesty - and the boy turns in a split second to give her a highly disbelieving look - before Richards is speaking again. 

Theo doesn’t have enough time to wonder why the other boy is still making a fool of himself, because his words genuinely force Theo to take a second to avoid choking on his laughter altogether. 

“Sure, you’re hot or whatever, but you’re so meh ,” Richards says, waving his hands in Theo’s direction to prove his point or something.

“You- you, sorry, think I’m hot ?” Theo coughs, fully convinced his ears are deceiving him. 

“ Objectively talking, of course. I’m hot too.” Richards nods, apparently believing that his sentence justifies everything and makes perfect sense to everyone with a bit of gray matter. 

“Dude, please- stop talking. For your own good.” A guy, who Theo supposes has followed the whole conversation, interjects - seemingly entirely too exasperated to mind his own business - and claps Richards on the back, guiding him away as the school bell rings. 

“Two compliments in a row, are you feeling well?” Theo, who has regained his composure enough to breathe again, yells as Tracy drags him bodily away, shaking her head in disbelief. 

-------------

Over lunch break, before either Tracy or Josh can spot him in the crowd of the cafeteria, Theo sneakily jogs up to Tara, who’s chatting with a dark haired boy next to the row of vending machines. 

Theo leans against a nearby wall, pretending to be otherwise occupied with texting while he not-so-casually eavesdrops on his sister’s conversation. 

It’s not like he cares that much about whatever they’re talking about - and given the looks on their faces, it doesn’t seem anything more important than small talk - he’s simply noisy like that. It’s in his blood. 

That, and he’s always eager for something he can store away and use in the future to make fun of Tara. 

His plans take an unexpected - and rather unpleasant - turn at some point, when Tara notices him out of the corner of her eye and her face seems to light up. She marches right over where Theo’s standing - who’s pretending to be more interested in a stupid sticker they sent in that group chat Scott put him in that he’s so keen on saying he finds irritating - and grabs his arm not-so-gently.

“Jude, this is my brother, Theo. Theo, this is Jude.” Tara waves a hand between them, bracelets clicking together with her every movement, while a tight smile forms on her face. 

Oh, nah. 

The boy in front of him, Jude , extends his arm over to Theo, smiling a tad awkwardly at him. His black hair flops over his face and his hand comes up to shove it away from his eyes. 

After a beat, before Tara can elbow him in the ribs, Theo grabs Jude’s hand and shakes it, feeling slightly embarrassed at the thought that they are  shaking hands .

“Tara’s told me a lot about you,” Theo stage-whispers, slapping a bright grin on and secretly hoping Josh will pop out of nowhere to drag him away. 

“Hope it was all good stuff, then,” Jude chuckles in response, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets and shaking his bangs away like a Walmart version of a boyband member. 

“Certainly,” Theo agrees, one second away from running away. 

Listen, he may look like the type of person to enjoy social events and likewise, all smirks, firm handshakes and well-timed laughs, but trust him, he despises them. Ew. No.

Before either of them can say anything else and destroy Theo’s last scraps of will to live, his phone starts to ring in his back pocket, leaving him almost fumbling to retrieve it. 

He doesn’t even look at the name on the screen, just waves goodbye to Tara and her friend while he holds up the phone in one hand in a seemingly decent enough excuse to leave, and answers before he can check who the hell is calling him during lunch break. 

“Who’s thi-”

“Oh shit .” A snort. 

“Wha-” 

Why the fuck is Liam Dunbar calling him now?

Theo doesn’t even have the time to be confused about it, because before he can even finish uttering a single sentence, Dunbar has hung up in a rush, not deeming Theo worthy enough of a simple explanation.

Huh. 

“Man, what are you doing?” 

The sound of Josh’s voice snaps Theo out of his thoughts, forcing him to stop wondering if the random phone call was an accident or if Dunbar wants to annoy him even when they aren’t in the same place. 

“I was talking with Tara,” Theo mumbles, pointing vaguely to the vending machine where Tara and Jude were chatting until a second prior. Now, there’s a girl laughing with her friend, leaning on the vending machine. 

Josh looks confused for a beat, looking repeatedly at the vending machine and narrowing his eyes as if he's trying to figure out if Theo hit his head before his arrival, before he shrugs and turns back to his friend. 

They fall into steps easily, finding Tracy already sitting at a table and waving at them to join, and the stupid conversations about videogames and inside jokes that Theo would’ve hated with anybody else flow easily, pushing his thoughts in a corner of his mind in favor of whatever they happen to be laughing about. 

-------------

It’s not until he finds himself sitting in his truck, the radio playing a song he doesn’t know, that the dam in his mind threatens to break again. 

Theo closes his eyes for a brief moment, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel, before he’s changing the music to one of his playlists and the road unrolls under his truck. 

-------------

“I need to talk to you, boys.” 

The whole lacrosse team, clad in emerald jerseys, freezes on the spots at the sound of the coach’s gravelly voice. 

The abrupt silence in the locker room, usually filled with mindless chatter and loud laughs even before games, is a strange thing to Theo’s ears. 

Theo, who was previously discussing with Josh about the obvious superiority of black coffee over the liquid diabete his best friend loves so much, whips his head around so hard his neck gives a worrying crack. 

“Can I tell my girlfriend I love her real quick? I don’t wanna die with regrets,” Freddy yells from somewhere apparently far enough for the coach to pretend he didn’t hear him - earning a few laughs from the rest of the boys - while another voice stage-whispers something that sounds like a ‘Damn, we’re fucked, boys.’

“Enough with that, I’m serious.” Coach Jeffrey says again, though the look on his face doesn’t give away anything resembling anger or disappointment. 

Not that it ever gives away any kind of feeling, mind you. 

“We had our first game, last Friday. And we lost.” The coach begins, his face truly unreadable.

That earns a collective groan from all the boys, no one knowing where the talk is going to go, and if they should be scared.

“But it was just one game. And to avoid further losses, I want everyone to be at their top. For this precise reason, from now on, until I deem it not needed anymore, we will train and practice alongside Beacon Hills High.” 

Oh, fuck no . 

“ Noooo ,” everyone mutters the second those words are uttered, disgrunted groans and booing filling the locker when the message truly sinks in their brains. 

And Theo wants to scream .

“Fuck,” Josh whispers beside him, giving a voice to Theo’s thoughts, who looks like he wants to rip his own hair out. 

On one hand, it comes to his mind the fact that Scott and Stiles are on the team, and he can say he’s quite excited at the idea of spending more time with his newly reunited friends, all playing the sport they like and no real pressure between them. 

On the other hand, even while setting aside his dangerously competitive brain, he realizes that Liam Dunbar is also on the team. And the prospect of spending more than three minutes within punching distance of the boy is an admittedly hard - if not impossible - challenge, even to Theo’s noteworthy self-control. 

While he’s considering if jumping from the school’s roof would lead him to his immediate death or would make him suffer excruciatingly, the coach’s voice booms in the room once again, snapping Theo out of his thoughts. 

“I don’t want to hear any of this once we’re there, let me be clear. You will show respect to every player there, and you will learn from them. Remember that they beat us, so you have to find your weak spots and fix them. Alright?” 

When a sound that sounds vaguely positive has painfully passed through each sore-looking player in the room, the coach keeps talking with a nod. 

“Okay, then. Grab your stuff.” 

“We’re going today ?!” Everyone yells disbelievingly at the same time, sounding somewhat comical with their astonished expressions and open mouths. 

That, if Theo didn’t want to die . 

-------------

“I hate this already.” Theo mutters sourly, looking out of the window of the bus. 

He’s been picking at the scab on his finger until it began bleeding again and he shoved his hand under his thighs with an annoyed sigh, choosing instead to furthermore ruin the fabric of his lacrosse bag. 

“I know. Me too.” Josh agrees sympathetically, eyeing Theo’s relentlessly bouncing leg with a glint of worry in his gaze.

“Will you stop?” Josh asks, though Theo doesn’t give any sign of understanding. 

“Dear God,” Josh sighs, snapping his fingers in front of Theo’s face to reclaim his attention, “What’s wrong with you?” 

“Dude!” 

That seems to finally bring Theo back to the land of the living, complete with a startled yelp and aggressive blinking as if he were waking up from a very vivid dream. 

“ What ?” He asks, furrowing his brows at Josh. 

Josh rolls his eyes with an exasperated sigh in return. “What. is. your. problem?” He questions once again. 

“Me? Oh, I’m amazing.” Theo replies with a tiny smile, sarcasm dripping so obviously from his words. 

“Yeah, and I have superpowers.” 

“Do you? That’s very cool.” 

Josh levels Theo with a supremely unimpressed glare at that. 

“Look, I don’t hide the fact that I’m not happy with this. Are you?” Theo explains, raising his eyebrows in question. 

“Of course I’m not. But aren’t you friends with McCall and Stilinski? I thought you’d be a bit less grouchy.” Josh responds. 

“I’m not grouchy.” Theo says stiffly, apparently having caught only that part of the sentence.

A beat passes, Theo averts his gaze. He looks outside once again. The twenty minutes drive feels endless, and he doesn’t know for how long he can keep pretending he’s completely fine. He places his intertwined hands in his lap. 

Next to him, Theo catches Josh biting his lip out of the corner of his eye. He briefly wonders what he’s thinking about, but his mental inquiry is quickly answered by the sudden sound of his best friend’s voice. 

“Wait.” Josh says, squinting in a way that makes Theo worry for his own safety. “ Is this about Dunbar ?” 

Theo stops his eyes from widening comically, like a cartoon character whose big secret has just been discovered. He feels a knot slowly form in his throat, and he tries to swallow it with no big results. 

“No.” He replies, holding Josh’s gaze. 

To anyone else, it might look and sound convincing enough, the way his expression doesn’t falter and his tone doesn’t change. 

To Josh, it looks and sounds like utter bullshit. 

“Bullshit,” He smirks then, proud of himself for seeing past Theo’s lies. “I know he bothers you so much.” 

“He doesn’t . He’s just fucking annoying.” 

“You say the same about Richards. I don’t see you having a crisis about being with him.” 

“Fuck off, I’m not having a crisis.” 

Josh sighs, looking like the very picture of exasperation. 

Theo deeply wishes for a change of topic - that way, he can focus his attention on something else possibly more distracting - rather than having to spend his time worrying about what he might do once the bus has arrived at its destination. 

“Listen, I remember the weird prank shit you two had going on when he went to school here. Tracy and I never pried, because we listened to you when you told us it wasn’t anything important. But then that thing happened and Dunbar got expelled, and we thought it was gonna be over, that he was out of your life. But we were wrong, apparently. So, please , for the love of God and all the Saints above, talk to us. Dude, we love you - seriously - so fucking much. And I know you have this weird complex where you think you’re undeserving of love of whatever, but it’s not fucking true, and you have to tell us if something’s wrong.” 

Josh takes a deep breath once all the words are out, chest heaving as if he’s been running a marathon or something. Before Theo can even think of opening his mouth, Josh speaks again. 

“And, by the way, the kidnapping thing works for Dunbar too. In fact, it’s actually better. He’s tinier, easier to carry-” Josh explains, but Theo cuts him off with a mildly disbelieving chuckle. 

“That was so emotional . I’m gonna have a stroke.” He says, clutching his chest and coughing dramatically in his elbow. 

“Shut the fuck up, or I’m burying you instead.” Josh shoves him with a roll of his eyes, though he’s laughing too. 

“Seriously, though. I’m fine.” Theo says. When his eyes meet Josh’s unimpressed gaze that easily reads ‘I don’t believe your shit for a second’ , Theo keeps talking. “Yeah, he bothers me. A bit . But I’m way more mature than that, and I’m not letting this thing damage our team.” He waves his hands in the air in a weird motion, hoping it helps get his point across. 

Josh doesn’t look all that convinced, his eyes slightly narrowed as Theo tries his best to appear innocent and saintly, batting his eyelashes at him, but in the end he gives up with a sigh. 

“Also, are you so, so sure he and Hayden are together?” Josh asks after a second, and even as he can’t help but scoff in disbelief, Theo’s glad for that change of topic. 

“Yeah, I think? I mean, they act like it.” Theo replies, watching with a mild smirk on his lips as Josh pulls his phone out of his pockets and begins to tap on the screen. 

“Look, dude, she’s so damn cool. And she followed me back!” Josh almost yells, his eyes wide as he turns his phone so Theo can admittedly check for himself that Hayden has followed him back on Instagram. 

“Wow, nice. You’re definitely gonna fall in love.” Theo deadpans, even as he takes Josh’s phone and starts to go through Hayden’s profile. 

He notices she only has one post, a bunch of different photos that range from birthdays, parties and selfies with friends to a few sky pictures and shoots with quotes written on walls or shirts. As he keeps scrolling through tons of story highlights, a rather specific aesthetic clearly pops up in the pictures, but before he can see anything else, Josh has already stolen his phone back. 

“Fuck off,” he mutters, ready to open his mouth again when the bus finally comes to a halt and stops quite violently, almost giving them whiplash. 

-------------

Theo is considering hiding in the bathroom until practice is over, just to avoid spending another minute out on the field. 

When he and the rest of his team got off the bus, sport bags over their shoulders and various degrees of annoyance painted on their faces, Theo thought that he could’ve survived. 

After all, it was just for a couple of hours, and it’s not like he was going to have to talk with the opposite team outside of brief sentences. He could do it. 

The second the opposite team’s coach opens his mouth, Theo takes back every mildly hopeful thing he thought in the past twenty minutes. 

Coach Finstock is a weird, weird man, Theo thinks as he stares at the ground, glaring at the grass as if he’s hoping it can swallow him whole. Judging by the illogical connections between his sentences and the inside jokes nobody else but him seems to be getting, Theo’s fairly sure the guy is on meth. If he glances at the way his dark hair is sticking up in all directions, Theo believes the coach has a side job as a mad scientist somewhere. 

“And please, don’t embarrass yourself further.” Coach Finstock claps his hands together to better emphasize his words, though no one seems to be aware of who they were directed to in the first place. No one looks like they care enough either, all the twenty boys on the field clearly not happy to be spending their time in unwanted company.  

After a beat in which he appears to be reconsidering his entire existence, Theo’s coach steps up. He clears his voice to reclaim attention, and the boys’ heads snap up to face him. 

“We’ll start with laps around the field. Then I’m gonna form pairs for the following exercises.” 

“Yes, coach.” 

Okay, yes. He can do this. 

“Nobody’s dead, this is a great start,” Josh pants as he speeds up to Theo’s side, who’s busy ignoring Dunbar glaring holes in his head behind him. 

“Yet,” Theo adds, twisting his head to catch Dunbar as he averts his gaze and pretends to be talking with Scott at his side. 

Said Scott that after a second suddenly appears right next to Theo, a bright smile on his face as if he hasn’t been running God knows how many laps. 

“Hey, man,” Scott says, matching Theo and Josh’s speed. 

“Hey!” Josh yells before Theo can say anything, and pointedly ignores his confused glare as he extends his hand for Scott to shake. “We haven’t been properly introduced. My name’s Josh.” 

After a second of hesitation, Scott grabs Josh’s hand and cheerfully shakes it. “Diaz, right? You’re a great player,” he says, clearly not noticing the way Theo’s glaring at them both. 

“Thanks, man, you too!” Josh grins.

Dear God . 

The moment Theo’s ears pick up on the sound of the coach's voice, he’s one second away from cheering out loud. 

The boys stop running around, jogging until they’re all panting and settled in front of the coaches. Scott and Stiles stop beside him too, though the way the latter is grimacing as if he’s been running a marathon in ten minutes blocks him from doing anything else than waving with the hand that’s not braced on his knee. 

Theo’s not really paying attention to the coach as he calls out names, when he feels a sharp shot of pain run through his foot and snaps his head towards his right to check who’s going to get beaten with a lacrosse stick. 

He can’t even say he’s that surprised when he finds himself face to face with Liam Dunbar himself, his sandy hair plastered to his forehead and his blue eyes glaring daggers at him. 

“What the fuck ?” Theo groans under his breath, wondering how someone that tiny can be such a pain in the ass. 

“ What ?” Dunbar mutters, and he has the nerve to sound annoyed, as if he’s not the one who has just broken Theo’s foot with all the strength he has. 

“You stepped on my foot.” Theo spits out, his grip around his stick tightening. 

“Oh, Your Highness, should we call an ambulance?” Dunbar replies, rolling his eyes in a way that makes Theo want to drown him. 

“Yeah, for you , fucki-” Theo’s beginning to say, when the mention of his name makes his head snap up and his attention diverted to the coach. 

“Raeken. Pay attention.” His coach says, and Theo unconsciously straightens out and lowers his eyes. “Sorry, coach.” He says. 

“You’re with St-” 

“Dumbar.” Coach Finstock jumps in, his tone clear and a honestly terrifying smirk on his face. 

“ What ?!” Dunbar interferes, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. 

“Dumbar, shut up.” His coach says, leaving no room for arguing.  

“It’s Dunbar .” He mutters with a sigh. 

“Yeah, and what did I say?” Finstock asks, though he doesn’t look like he particularly cares. 

“You said Dumb-” He starts, but before he can finish and earn himself two weeks of detention, Theo’s shoving him away and towards where all the other pairs are already working.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dunbar snarls, freeing himself from Theo’s grip and shoving the boy away. 

“Saving your ass from detention, thank you very much.” Theo replies, rolling his eyes and throwing his stick on the ground. 

“Why do you care?” 

“Oh, I don’t. But I’d rather get home as soon as possible.” 

“I hate you.” Dunbar groans, inching away and settling on the ground where Josh and Scott are chatting rather animatedly. 

“You don’t even know,” Theo responds, mirroring the other boy’s movement nonetheless. 

“Why are you always so lucky?” He mutters in Josh’s direction, picking at the grass under him. 

“Good vibes, man, good vibes,” Josh tuts and pats Theo on his shoulder. Scott snorts beside him, eyeing a very agitated-looking Stiles a few feet away, hands in his hair as he stares exasperatedly at Richards. Theo kinda feels bad for Stiles. 

“Good vibes, my ass.” Theo retorts, his eyes stopping on Dunbar’s silhouette near him. 

At this point, he’s not even that mad for the newly acquired practice location - he figures that spending more time with Scott and Stiles, in an attempt to restore their long lost friendship, would actually do him and his lacking sociality some good - but the prospect of having to bear Dunbar’s highly irritating presence for who knows how long makes him want to claw his eyes out with a teaspoon. 

“Get to work, slackers!” Coach Finstock’s voice startles him out of his thoughts and almost gives him a heart attack, but he thinks he would prefer the heart attack over that . ( That , to put it quite simply, would be the gigantic pain in the ass that is Dunbar.) 

“C’mon,” Theo hears Scott whisper with a smile, lightly slapping Josh on the shoulder to get him moving. 

Theo pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales loudly, questioning to himself and the universe what such terrible crime he has committed in a past life to deserve such fate. 

“Let’s go. Don’t want detention ‘cause of you ,” Theo mutters with a grimace, wondering if faking his death would be more pleasant than whatever he has to do with the sandy-haired boy. Who has inched away farther, like the child that he is. 

“No.” Dunbar replies, with an honest-to-God pout . Seriously, he even has his arms crossed over his chest, in the most accurate depiction of childishness. 

“No? Fuck you mean no ?” 

“I mean no . Fuck off.” Again, that damn frown, his mouth fully downturned and his brows furrowed. 

Theo thinks that if he were to open up a dictionary, the definition of ‘child’ and ‘pain in the ass’ would be accompanied by a picture of Liam Dunbar. 

“Seriously, get up. What are you, five?” Theo sighs, exasperated beyond his own limits. 

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re so mature?” Dunbar bites back, raising his head to pin Theo down with a glare. 

“ Yeah ? The hell you glaring at me for?” 

“Because-” Dunbar begins, standing up and stepping closer to Theo, “-you're a major pain in the ass and I am not doing anything with you.” 

“Woah, you’re shorter than I remembered.” Theo muses, returning Dunbar’s stare. 

“Do you want to be punched in the face? ‘Cause I can break your nose again .” 

Theo can see the other boy is getting angry, his nostrils flaring and his brows knit together, but for how much he would love to keep riling him up, he figures that detention for getting into a fistfight with a player from another team - one that’s supposed to be ‘offering their help’ or some shit - would only result in him getting benched for the rest of the season. And he’s not spending another year sitting while his teammates gloat about victories and such. 

“Trust me, I would be happier to swallow a pound of rusty nails than to be here with you, but we quite literally have no other choice. So suck it up for a couple of hours and let’s try to keep the talking to a minimum.” Theo mumbles, unclenching his fists at his sides and forcing his expression to smooth out again. 

Dunbar seems to be considering the offer for a hot minute - as if there is something to consider - before he runs a hand through his hair and finally, finally , mutters ‘fine’. 

-------------

Theo is going to murder Liam Dunbar. Seriously, he’s thinking about ways to get rid of his body or make it look like an accident before fleeting the continent. 

He’s been so fucking stupid to believe that even for a second, practicing with Dunbar wouldn’t have been the equivalent of hanging out in a circle of hell. 

“You’re doing it wrong!” Dunbar mutters for the billionth time in a goddamn hour, and Theo is losing every shred of self-control left in his body. 

“I am not doing it fucking wrong! We’re doing push-ups, I can’t do that wrong !” Theo basically yells, his patience wearing thin. 

It’s not even the fact that Dunbar has been dictating orders as if he were the coach for the whole fucking hour, or that they’ve been arguing way too much considering that the only thing they’ve been doing are simple exercises. 

No, Theo’s mostly on the verge of a mental breakdown for the fact that Dunbar has been correcting every single thing about the way Theo does push-ups for twenty minutes, and he doesn’t know how long he can keep himself from kicking the other boy in the face. 

“Listen, do you want me to help you, or do you want to keep losing game after game?” Dunbar asks condescendingly, and fucking hell . 

“It was one game! One! And we only lost because I was benched for the entire fucking year! Thanks to you and your anger issues .” Theo spits, standing up and digging his nails into the palms of his hands to prevent himself from punching Dunbar. 

“Oh, you don’t wanna mention that, because we both know how it actually went.” 

They’re standing close now, and Theo can feel Dunbar’s hot breath ghosting over his face. His mouth is downturned in that typical frown once again, and his eyes are glistening with anger. 

“It’s not my fault you smashed the coach’s car and got expelled, just because your fragile ego couldn’t handle a little criticism.” Theo snarls, but before the words can finish coming out of his mouth, Dunbar has already raised his arm. 

The sharp shoot of pain that seems to get a hold of Theo’s entire body when the boy’s fist connects with his cheekbone is nothing compared to what he feels in his chest, but the way his head feels oh-so-heavy as he cradles his cheek with a disbelieving expression is enough to keep him too occupied to analyze other feelings in him. 

He doesn’t recall hitting Dunbar back, but the angry-looking bruise that seems to be blossoming on his jaw tells him otherwise. 

And really, fuck all the plans of self-control and maturity he'd prepared beforehand. 

“You haven’t changed.” Theo hears himself spitting out, but he’s not entirely sure of saying so. In a second, he feels someone that he faintly recognises as Josh grabbing him by the shoulders, while Scott mirrors him and gets a hold of Dunbar.

He’s too busy trying to free himself from Josh’s iron grip, but before he’s hauled away and out of the field he catches one last snippet of the hurt expression on Dunbar’s face that Theo can’t even begin to reason. 

-------------

The second Theo steps out of the Beacon Hills High principal’s office, his father stalking ahead of him and towards their parked car, he feels his heart clenching uncomfortably in his chest. 

His father hasn’t uttered a single word since he arrived, finding Theo sitting in a chair in front of the principal’s desk, hands awkwardly folded in his lap and not daring to glance at Dunbar in the chair next to his. 

Mr. Raeken isn’t speaking now either, hands gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles went white and his face free of any shred of emotion. 

Theo wishes his father could yell at him, scream that he’s nothing more than a cheap copy of his sister and that he wishes he was never born. Theo knows he thinks that stuff, anyway. He can read it in the way his gaze hardens ever so infinitesimally every time he lays his eyes over his son. He can see it in the way he never acknowledges him on those rare nights when the whole family has dinner together, the air thick and unbearable with the suffocating smell of disappointment. 

Theo doesn’t have it in him to speak first, and so he sits in that agonizing silence for what feels like a true eternity, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth until he can taste blood in his mouth. It doesn’t taste that different from regret - or whatever the turmoil of emotion in his chest tastes like. 

The driveway of their house appears in front of the car far too late for his liking, and even then he can’t bring himself to do anything else but grab his stuff and make his way into their house. 

He doesn’t answer his mom when she asks what happened, her gaze stern and her hands on her hips, and even when Tara comes knocking on his door, he remains silent. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tara asks quietly, and Theo can hear in her tone that she knows she won’t be getting a reply. 

Still, she sits next to him on his bed, her eyes running over him in the hope of finding something - anything - that can give away what happened to her brother. 

“Go away.” He mumbles, running a hand over his face and letting his shoulders droop slightly. 

It’s fine, he’s fine. 

Tara leaves the room silently and comes back later with a glass of water that Theo doesn’t drink. She sets it on his bedside table and tells him to call her if he needs anything. 

He nods, an imperceptible movement of his head, and that’s it. 

He’s alone again, in his room, his cheekbone aching and his chest even more. 

He knows he should get himself cleaned up, eat something, change his clothes, call his friends- but he can’t really bring himself to do anything. 

He’s not sure of why the whole situation has affected him that way, or why he’s so surprised by Dunbar's reaction. He ought to have expected it, he thinks. Still, his brain hasn’t even registered what the detention consists of, and how much he will regret it later on. He hasn’t been kicked off the team, that’s the only thing he cares about, and he’s grateful for it. He doesn't know what he would if he were to leave lacrosse another time. 

With a sigh, he stretches to grab the glass of water and chugs it down, setting it back on the table with a clink. 

He lies down on the bed, grimacing when he tries to turn on his side and is suddenly reminded of the red bruise on his cheek, and all the things that happened before and after. 

It’s fine, he’s fine . 

Chapter Text

Tuesday, 12th of March 

Theo is on the verge of falling asleep, with the hope of never waking up again. Seriously. Never again.

He gave up on pretending to be interested in whatever his math teacher is droning on about twenty minutes ago, and now he’s resigned himself to staring at the seemingly still clock attached to the wall, hoping that if he focuses enough it’ll move faster. 

He knows, realistically, that it's at least a good 50% his fault: for riling Dunbar up, for punching him, for saying what he said. Still, he won’t admit it in front of anyone breathing and alive, and he may convince himself too that it’s not his fault if he repeats it in front of the mirror enough times. 

Again, it’s pretty obvious that detention is supposed to be annoying, something you hate doing, so that next time you’ll think twice about repeating what you did to get yourself in that position. But then, there are many, many things that irritate Theo to the core, and that he would gladly replace his punishment with instead of what the principal and the coaches chose to punish them. To name a few - just to get his point across - he would much rather scrub every school’s surface clean with an old toothbrush, or join the school choir, and even take AP history willingly . 

But nothing can possibly go right in his life, and so - of fucking course - he has to spend his afternoons for  two entire weeks with Dunbar, doing a bunch of terribly boring things like organizing the locker rooms and cleaning the classrooms. Together . He’s going to die. 

He’s 100% sure that the manic grin on Finstock’s face when he chose that punishment wasn’t a figment of Theo’s imagination, caused by the rage obfuscating his mind or something else, and it wouldn’t be surprising given the fact that the coach apparently finds the whole thing on a level of hilarity people like Theo don’t seem to get. 

Twirling his pen with his fingers, his cheek barely meets his propped up arm before the sharp pain brings back vivid details of the day he’s trying extremely hard to erase from his memory, and he’s not entirely sure that his grimace is fully caused by the angry-looking bruise on his cheekbone. 

Back at home, he was almost tempted to ask Tara some help to cover it up, or at least not make him look like he’d gotten in a fistfight instead of doing trigonometry homework, but he was too scared to even ask her to pass him the cereal at breakfast, lest of all help him with that . Even though he believes his sister isn’t really mad at him for his reaction, he can’t handle another person being disappointed in him, not right now. One slightly off look from Tara or anyone else and he could seriously snap then and there, he’s sure of that as much as he’s sure that Scott and Stiles completely hate his guts now, no doubts. 

-------------

Speaking of the devil, Theo bumps into Tracy on his way to biology. He has his head low, pretending to be far too interested as he swipes through Instagram stories he doesn’t give a fuck about. When he makes the terrible mistake of lifting his eyes from his phone, he’s met with Tracy’s honestly terrifying dark gaze, fixed right on him. 

“Raeken.” She says, her tone aloof and clean from any possible emotion that could let Theo pick up on how she’s feeling and act accordingly. He swallows the lump in his throat and returns her stare, his own reflection eerily judging in her dark pupils. 

“Tracy.” He replies, the uncertain ring of his voice a clear display of his emotional state, no doubt something Tracy has already noticed and analyzed. 

“So,” -she starts, letting out an almost invisible sigh that doesn’t go unnoticed- “Josh told me what happened. Or, well, he blabbered for like thirty minutes straight and I’m 83% sure I got what happened.” 

Theo stays silent for a beat, his eyes repeatedly searching Tracy’s face for something that will finally confirm his daunting suspicion. She doesn’t look disappointed, he realizes. And that makes him even more confused, because he was expecting some screaming, or at least a punch. Public displays of violence and such aren’t really Tracy-like, but the thought doesn’t make him any less confused. She doesn’t look disappointed - like - at all. 

And that only increases his already present jumpiness.

Maybe Josh watered down the episode quite a bit during his retelling, or she doesn’t believe him fully. Or she’s just really good at concealing her emotions, which is likely the case.

“You should’ve told me.” Tracy mutters, and Theo can’t bring himself to do much more than nod without meeting her eyes again. 

“It’s no big deal, I just got detention.” Theo explains, hoping his shrug gets the message across in a better way. 

“You said that last time. And look what happened.” 

Theo feels a pang of guilt run through him when his brain registers Tracy’s words, memories of his past flashing behind his eyelids. He rolls his jaw and shrugs again. 

“It’s different. Not a big deal.” He says through gritted teeth, though he doesn’t want to get angry. He just wants to get this fucking detention over with, and then he’ll be back to normal. 

The ring of the bell breaks the silence and Theo doesn’t waste his chance to flee before the situation gets even more embarrassing, mumbling something about being late to biology before taking off. He faintly hears Tracy sigh and catches her shaking her head with the corner of his eye, but he’ll deal with that later. 

The hours pass one after another and he doesn’t catch anyone else of his friends for the whole day, and thinks they’re probably ignoring him too or figuring out the best ways to tell him he’s a fucking idiot. Either way, he’s not in the mood to talk with anyone at the moment, least of all to find excuses for his actions, and so when the bell rings he makes quick work of gathering his stuff and keeping his head low as he gets the hell out of there. 

-------------

The clock precariously attached to the wall keeps ticking obnoxiously with every passing second, and Theo is starting to lose the last remains of patience he has left. 

Dunbar still hasn’t showed up, which - considering that they’re in his fucking school - is rather weird. Like, does he really plan on hiding in the bathroom forever? Or does he hope they’ll declare him dead to skip detention altogether?

While Theo’s trying to figure out every ridiculous excuse Dunbar might come up with to avoid spending his next twelve afternoon with him, the boy himself magically appears in front of him like lamp genie (a cursed lamp, probably), complete with disheveled sandy hair and that characteristic upside down frown on his pink mouth. 

“So nice of you to show up,” Theo mocks him, running his eyes up and down Dunbar’s figure. He looks as if he’s been running a marathon for the past thirty minutes, his cheeks tinged pink and his chest heaving as he moves to the back of the opposite end of the classroom to take a seat. While doing so, he even stops for a second to flip Theo the bird.

“Mature,” Theo mutters, still loud enough to make sure Dunbar can hear him. 

“Fuck you.” He replies, his mouth curling in a mocking smile. 

Theo shakes his head and sighs, before turning back to keep staring at the peeling wall in front of him. He wonders how long he’s going to have to wait for the teacher to finally raise her head from whoever’s papers she’s grading and finally deem them important enough, or if he should’ve brought a pillow with him. 

On his right, he can see Dunbar scrolling on his phone, his backpack propped up on the desk to block the teacher’s view and stop her from catching him, though she doesn’t seem too interested in either of the boys. 

After what felt like two light years, when Theo is considering faking a stroke to get out of there, the teacher finally acknowledges their presence in the room. 

Theo doesn’t recognise her, but if the loathing look on Dunbar’s face is anything to go by, he can gather the fact that she’s not his favorite teacher in the school. She’s wearing way too many bracelets that keep clicking together as she gesticulates obnoxiously, and her voice has that fake sweetness tinge to it that tells Theo she’s going to be absolutely insufferable. 

“Boys,” she begins, pushing back her glasses when they start to slip down her nose. “I’m Mrs. Finch, and as Mr. Dunbar, here, already knows, I teach biology.” She nods her head in Dunbar’s general direction, and Theo is convinced that if looks could kill, Mrs. Finch would be incinerated on the ground. 

“If I recall correctly, you already have one week of detention on top of this.” She smiles, her pearly white teeth glistening and making Theo’s skin honest-to-god crawl. “But, I’m willing to reconsider it, assuming that you do as told.” 

Dunbar’s head snaps up at that, his eyes clearly focused on the teacher that currently holds his destiny in her ring-clad hands. 

“You have to make sure Mr. Raeken here feels at ease in our school, and I want a ten page essay on our last lesson’s topic on my desk by next, uh, let’s say, Wednesday. Understood?” 

Theo has to physically stop himself from chuckling out loud at the sight of the downright horrified expression on Dunbar’s face, blue eyes as wide as saucers and mouth agape. 

“ Understood ?” Mrs. Finch repeats once again, that terrifying smile still stuck to her face. 

“Uhm, yeah. Yes.” Dunbar replies, coughing in his fist to hide his rather evident grimace. 

“Alright. Then get to whatever you must do. Hop hop!” Mrs. Finch claps her hands together all of a sudden, making both boys jump in their seats, before ultimately turning her entire attention to the papers on her desk. 

Theo slowly turns in his chair, unsure on what to do exactly. He ponders for a moment on whether to stand up or remain where he is, his leg bouncing up and down. 

“C’mon,” Dunbar has apparently decided for both of them, already standing next to the door with his arms crossed over his chest, looking like the biblical depiction of exhaustion. 

Bold of him to be the one exhausted , Theo thinks to himself as he reluctantly grabs his backpack and follows the other boy down the hall, questioning how long it has been since someone has cared enough to repaint the walls. 

-------------

“Are you gonna murder me?” Theo asks when, after - like - ten minutes of walking, they still haven’t reached their destination point. 

“Still debating the best method. What do you think, throttling or simple throat slitting?” 

“Ohh, kinky.” 

At that, Dunbar doesn’t even stop his march and simply kicks Theo in the shin, hard enough to actually leave him clutching his leg for a moment. He doesn’t let the other boy see that, of course. 

“Wow, that wasn’t that bad. You know, given your smurf-sized legs.” Theo mocks him, this time ducking out of the way before he can receive another kick. 

“Are you forgetting this is my school? I know all the best hiding spots for your dead body.” 

“Bold of you to assume you could get close enough,” 

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Dunbar spits, dropping his backpack on the ground and staring at Theo with his eyes basically lit up like torches. 

Theo stares back, holding his gaze for the right amount of time to plan a swift escape, before inching closer to Dunbar’s face. 

“You’d have to catch me first.” He whispers, smirking at the other boy before taking off down the hall and in the nearest room. He faintly hears Dunbar swearing to himself, or muttering something suspiciously close to a string of wildly graphic threats while he sprints after Theo, probably questioning to himself and the universe what exactly he has done to deserve such cruel punishment. 

Funnily enough, Theo is actually hiding (“hiding”) in the changing room, curled up under a locker with the metal slightly bent inwards and a maroon shirt hanging out through the crack. He doesn’t give it much thought, other than asking himself what the fuck those boys do in there, too busy trying to desperately control the laughter that keeps bubbling up his throat. His breath hitches when he hears the sound of footsteps approaching and slightly quieting down, no doubt Dunbar trying to bag the surprise effect. 

“We have to stay here for four hours . I am not wasting my time like this.” Dunbar yells, and Theo can literally hear his upside-down frown from the tone in his voice as he tries to spot him from his half-assed hiding place. 

It takes Dunbar about two seconds to find him, but in his defense Theo has to admit that thirty seconds isn't enough time to figure out a decent hiding spot, especially when you’re being chased by someone’s who’s actually quite fast (not that he would ever admit it), and that his critical thinking skills are severely stunted by the lack of sleep in his system. 

Whatever.

“Did you really hide under my locker?” Dunbar asks, his brows furrowed in confusion and slightly tinged with disbelief.

“Didn’t know that. Though I should’ve guessed from the state of it.” Theo replies, slowly stepping backwards until his back hits the wall behind him. 

“You’re so fucking infuriating , you know that?” His eyes are basically reduced to slits now, and Theo thinks that if they were in a cartoon, his head would be fuming right now. 

“Bold of you to say that,” Theo spits back, not a single clue of what to do now. Surprisingly enough, the universe seems to like him, or at least stand him enough to give him an amazing escape plan. 

In a swift movement, he flicks his wrist and turns on the shower Dunbar’s currently under, watching as the gelid spray of water soaks the boy to the bone. 

Oh, well. 

The expression on Dunbar’s face is honest-to-god priceless. Seriously, Theo wishes he could take a picture and hang it on his bedroom wall or something. 

After the shock has run out of him, Dunbar turns the shower off, but against Theo’s predictions, he doesn’t try to attack him or anything. Instead, he remains right where he is, breathing in and out in a way that makes his whole chest heave. 

In a second, he leans over and turns the shower back on, this time the water directly hitting Theo on the back of his head. He ducks out of it as soon as he can, but his clothes are already sopping wet and his bangs are flat on his forehead, covering his glowering eyes. 

“Man, you gotta cut your hair,” Dunbar breaks the shocked silence after what feels like ages, and that’s about all it takes for Theo’s - already thin - patience to snap in half. 

“You motherfuck-” he starts, brows knit together and fists balled up, when a third voice chimes in. 

“What the fu- hell are you two doing?!” 

Both boys freeze in place, Dunbar’s shirt caught in Theo’s fists and his arm raised in the air, turning their heads to the side. 

Next to the door, with a lacrosse stick clutched in his hand and his wild hair even worse than usual, the mad scientist/coach of BHHS is standing. 

“Uhm, I- hugging?” Dunbar blurts out sounding embarrassingly unconvinced, immediately wrapping his arms around Theo with way too much energy to be considered amicable. His attempts to free himself from his grasps fail miserably, and Theo limits himself to subtly kicking the other boy in the shin. 

“‘Cause we’re such good friends!” Dunbar adds, and again, Theo would like to dig a hole in the ground and bury both of them in it. 

Their little hug-thing breaks off, leaving them standing awkwardly in front of a rather amusingly confused coach. 

Theo playfully punches Dunbar on the shoulder, hoping that it at least looked playful with the amount of force he put it in. Dunbar’s face twists into something halfway through a smile and a grimace, before stepping on Theo’s foot with all the strength in his tiny body. 

“Part of me wants to ask, the other part says knowing would be more disturbing than anything I could ever imagine, So. I, uh, I’m gonna walk away,”

And with that, his hands in the air like a distressed lady and the expression on his face the true depiction of horror, the man staggers out of the room, leaving the boys with painfully awkward smiles painted on their faces. 

“One thing, though. Get to fucking work.” Coach’s head appears once again, raising the stick in the air in a rather threatening manner. Though anything could look threatening in his hands. 

“What the fuck was that ?!” Dunbar yells when he hopes Coach is out of earshot. 

“Oh- You tell me! And get away from me!” Theo shouts back, jumping back when he realizes Dunbar’s arm is still firmly placed around his shoulders. 

“You started this! Like you always do! I can’t fucking stand to be around your egocentric ass all the time!” 

“Really? I was under the impression you always seemed to find me , what’s up with that, uh?” 

“Oh, how dare you, you motherfuckin-” before he can finish, Theo has already covered his mouth with his hand, shushing him. 

“Don’t- ugh- don’t fucking shush me!” Dunbar tries to say, but the words are muffled by Theo’s hand. He just hopes the other boy won’t lick his palm. 

“Shut up!” He snaps back, straining his ears to understand if there are actual footsteps or if he’s just going crazy from staying in Dunbar’s company for too long. 

“I’m not shutt- get away-” And honestly, he wonders if Dunbar talks even while he’s asleep, and how the hell his friends can stand to be with him on their own accord .

“Don’t you ever use your ears? Teacher’s coming, get to work-” That’s about the amount of information Theo gives him before shoving the boy violently across the room and pretending to organize the lacrosse sticks thrown on the ground pretty much everywhere around them. 

“Is everything okay?” Mrs. Finch asks in a pinched tone as she pushes her glasses up her nose like a TV stiffy librarian, and Theo has to thank whoever’s above that her bracelets can be heard from states away. 

“Totally wonderful. We are absolutely working amazingly.” Dunbar reassures her with a wide grin, and a wave (honestly, what is this dude’s problem??) 

‘Totally wonderful?!’ Theo mouths from across the room when the teacher has left the room with a stiff nod. 

Dunbar throws his hands up in the air in response and mouths ‘I panicked!’ back, the cardboard box full of lacrosse balls falling on the floor from where he put it down precariously on the edge of the bench. 

“Oh, trust me I saw.” Theo replies, picking up a ball and weighing it in his hand, before launching it at the other boy with a quick “watch out!” as the only warning. 

“Dick.” Dunbar deadpans, catching the ball with no apparent effort whatsoever. 

Theo has to give it to him, it was slightly - slightly - impressive. Alright, whatever. 

“Ass.” He responds, rolling his eyes. 

-------------

“Dunbar, check this out, it looks just like you!” Theo snickers as he holds up what looks like a dead rat, or at least something adjacent to that. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of not being funny?” Dunbar replies, rolling his eyes and grimacing at the sight of the dead animal. 

“If you’re the judge of fun, then I’m glad, ” Theo inches closer, still holding the rat with his fingers and swinging it in front of the other boy’s face.

“Ew, ew, eww , get that shit away from me!” Dunbar yelps and backs up, trying to put as much distance as he can and as fast as possible between him and Theo’s new pet. 

“Dude, weren’t you like a boy scout? Chill out.” He throws the rat in the bin at his feet, and shakes his head to get the hair out of his face. 

“ Yeah , and I didn’t like dead animals back then either.” 

“Hey, at least the big, black spider on your shoulder is alive,” Theo tells him with a smile, but before he can even finish his sentence Dunbar is already running around, screaming at him to ‘get rid of the ugly monster’ before it ‘kills him slowly and painfully’. 

“C’mere. It’s a spider, not a lion, calm down .” Theo shakes his head in amusement as he picks up the spider from the other boy’s shoulder and puts it down on the ground. 

“There, no need to get your panties in such a twist.” 

“Mind about your panties, thank you very much.” 

Theo lets out a huffing laugh and takes off one of his gloves to fish out his ringing phone from his jeans, mindlessly scuffing his foot against the ground.

“Weren’t supposed to give that to Mrs. Finch?” Dunbar inquires, catching the opportunity to stop doing his work (like every five minutes, mind you) and get lost in whatever’s interesting enough this time. 

“So were you,” Theo says, not moving his eyes from where they’re inspecting his nails. 

“Clichè,”

“It’s touché, you idiot ,” Theo rolls his eyes disbelievingly at Dunbar’s painful ignorance, turning back to his phone call a beat later.  “Sure. Bye.” He says, before placing his phone back in his back pocket. 

“Who was it? Your girlfriend?” Dunbar asks him, a strange tinge to his tone that Theo can’t quite decipher.  

“It was my sister, you noisy ass.” He replies, putting the glove back on. 

They work in silence for a couple of minutes more, the rustling of their utensils the only sound until Dunbar’s attention span runs dry again. 

“Why do you remember it?” He questions, his voice cool and his gaze on a singular leaf on the ground. 

“What?” Theo snaps his head at the sound of his voice.

“Why do you remember it? I mean, the boy scout thing,” He asks again, lifting his eyes to meet Theo’s. 

“Oh. You told me, back when-” Theo straightens when he understands, coughing in his fist to avoid finishing his sentence. 

“Uhm, yeah. Thought you’d forgotten about it.” 

“I didn’t. Why?”

“No reason, just curious.” Dunbar suddenly drops his gaze, picking at a loose string on his shirt with a shrug, and Theo shakes his head and blinks before turning back to what he was doing. 

-------------

“I’m gonna drown you, if you don’t quit being a dickhead,” Theo spits out after he’s been hit on the back of his head with a tennis ball. (He doesn’t even want to know where it came from, not really.) 

“It’s hard when you look like that ,” Dunbar replies, throwing yet another ball. 

“Oh, is that a compliment? How cute,” He says, catching with both hands the evil little yellow things flying at his head. The next one catches him squarely in the chest, and hits the ground before rolling off inside the pool. 

“Shit aim for a lacrosse player,” Theo raises his eyebrows, dropping the balls on the floor and watching them join the first one by one. 

“Maybe I was aiming at your chest,” Dunbar says, sounding anything but convinced. 

“Sure, sweetheart, whatever you say.”

That’s enough to make Dunbar back up and trip over one of his tiny neon weapons, resulting in him falling in the pool with a yelp of surprise and flailing arms. 

Before he can go down, he manages to grab Theo by the ankle, dragging the boy on top of himself as they both crash into the cold water. 

-------------

“Didn’t know you listened to good stuff, very rebellious,” Theo says after a while, and - weirdly enough - he doesn’t even have his usual biting tone when he speaks. (Okay, maybe just a bit.) 

“Ha. Very funny.” Dunbar replies mindlessly, still staring at the sky above. 

They’re both lying on two benches, uncomfortable as fuck and still wet from when they decided to have a little swim break, but neither of them seems too bothered to actually stand up. 

“I’m serious. I like this song.” Theo repeats once again, hoping to sound slightly more convincing. 

“I know.” The other boy says quietly. 

“What?”

“You played it a couple of times. Back then.” His voice sounds small, unsure, and Theo has to strain his ears to actually catch the whole sentence. Nonetheless, he can’t help but let a tiny smile stretch across his face at the thought.  “You're not the only one who remembers.” 

Chapter Text

Thursday, 14th of March

the liar, the bitch, and her slutty wardrobe

Tracy: liar
Theo: bitch
Josh: sluttywardrobe

[3:58 pm] liar: who the fuck added me to that gc
[3:58 pm] liar: what is this
[3:59 pm] bitch: prob mccall
[3:59 pm] liar: who
[3:59 pm] bitch: friend of mine
[3:59 pm] bitch: sadly
[4:00 pm] liar: and why am i a part of it
[4:00 pm] sluttywardrobe: my bad i gave him ur number
[4:00 pm] liar: imma start giving out ur number to randoms too
[4:00 pm] bitch: they’re nice ppl i swear
[4:00 pm] liar: rich coming from u
[4:01 pm] bitch: theres hayden in it
[4:01 pm] bitch: thought u liked her
[4:01 pm] liar: ooh yes i do
[4:01 pm] liar: okay i take it back ig
[4:01 pm] sluttywardrobe: why thank you
[4:01 pm] liar: stfu
[4:01 pm] sluttywardrobe: fuck u then
[4:02 pm] bitch: shut up im trying to study here
[4:02 pm] sluttywardrobe: sure u are
[4:02 pm] bitch: surprised ur not in church praying on ur hands and knees tbh
[4:03 pm] sluttywardrobe: i gave up two bibles ago

the best pack out there!!

Liam: captainamerica
Mason: avocadon
Corey: corneliuss
Hayden: hayday
Scott: wolfywolf
Stiles: onlybraincell
Lydia: fashionlydia
Allison: tslovergirll
Malia: mathater
Kira: hellokira
Theo: gaslighter

[wolfywolf] added [Josh Diaz]
[wolfywolf] added [Tracy Stewart]
[3:53] wolfywolf: other friends!!
[3:53] wolfywolf: friends of theo
[3:54] onlybraincell: welcome to the gang
[3:55] mathater: don’t be cringe dude
[3:55] mathater: don’t talk at all actually
[3:56] onlybraincell: oh okay fuck you then
[3:57] Josh Diaz: hii im josh
[3:57] Josh Diaz: i play on the lacrosse team and im a junior
[3:57] Tracy Stewart: nobody cares josh
[3:57] hayday: wait ur the girl from last week right??
[3:58] onlybraincell: hi guys
[3:58] Tracy Stewart: yeahh
[3:58] hayday: omg hi u looked cool
[3:58] Tracy Stewart: hii thank uu
[3:58] Tracy Stewart: you too
[3:59] Josh Diaz: uhm hello??
[3:59] onlybraincell: dw bro im here
[3:59] onlybraincell: @gaslighter
[3:59] onlybraincell: u should introduce ur friends more often
[3:59] gaslighter: uh yeah no
[3:59] onlybraincell: ?? rdue??
[4:00] gaslighter: cry abt it
[4:00] mathater: ha ha
[4:00] onlybraincell: fuck you guys im bailing
[4:00] tslovergirll: aww
[onlybraincell] abandoned the chat
[4:00] tslovergirll: cmon dude
[tslovergirll] added [Stiles Stilinski]
[tslovergirll] changed [Stiles Stilinski]’s username into [onlybraincell]
[4:00] tslovergirll: get over it
[4:01] onlybraincell: no fuck u

-------------

Theo yawns loudly and flops down onto his bed, almost crushing his joystick in the motion. He runs a hand through his floppy hair, making a note to cut it as soon as possible when his bangs immediately fall into his eyes again, and glances at his wristwatch.The thin arms that tick and tick ominously only work in increasing his already existing jumpiness, and he bites his bottom lip to stifle the wave of annoyance running through him.

God, he needs to get a grip. Seriously, this is going to impact his reputation.

He really doesn’t understand. He has attended hundreds of fancy dinners with his father’s coworkers, hours spent dining in fine restaurants during which he tries to kick Tara under the table without being caught, and he doesn’t see how shaking a couple of clammy hands and engaging in polite small talk with stuffy, stuck-up assholes would be any harder than usual.

And usually, he would just wear his best suit, polish his shoes, and slap on a charming smile that surely is going to charm all the middle-aged women around, but this time there’s a weird feeling sitting at the bottom of his stomach, and he can’t quite figure out the reason why.

When the clock almost strikes 6:30 p.m., the glistening digits of his alarm clock on the bedside table casting glowing shadows across the room, Tara strikes in, a sure rhythm in her step and bold make-up on her face.

“Wow. You almost look nice,” Theo observes, ducking when his sister tries to maim him with a pillow stolen off the bed. He then grabs another one and lazily throws it in her direction, catching her squarely in the chest. (He has always had a better aim than her, no need to brag about it.)

“Shut up. And get dressed, idiot!” Tara looks impossibly stiff: the tense line of her shoulders, her lips pressed tight in a thin line, and her finger anxiously tapping against the fabric of her red dress. It takes Theo aback, and for a moment he forgets to reply.

“Might wanna take that stick out of your ass.” He snaps back ultimately, but his tone doesn’t have the usual bite into it. After a beat, he shrugs and gets up, beelining for his closet. Maybe he’s the one who’s way too taut, and he’s imagining everything.

Theo blinks a couple of times, both of his hands braced against the cool surface of his closet, and he really thinks that the lack of sleep is finally getting to him. You know, hallucinations and the likes, totally normal stuff.

He shuffles around until he finds the suit he was looking for, weighting the amount of wrinkles briefly before he decides against ironing it. He can’t be bothered at all, really.
He throws the suit on the bed, grabs the things he needs, and barges in the bathroom without even checking if someone else is already in. When nothing flies past his head, he declares it free land, and jumps in the shower.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath when the downright icy spray of water hits the back of his neck, and yells a string of colorful curses at Tara for using up all of the hot water. He figures that’s mainly on himself for not hurrying up and spending hours staring at his ceiling, but whatever.

When angry curses and screams start to float up the stairs, Theo understands that as his clue to hurry the fuck up and finally gives up on trying to give some sort of sense to the unruly mop of hair he’s destined to deal with for the rest of his life. That, if he doesn’t go bald like Lex Luthor.

“I’m- fuck- coming! fuck!” He yells back, tripping over his shoelaces and almost ending up sprawled on the hard floor of his bedroom.

Before Tara can come up and murder him definitely, Theo makes a quick run and dives under the bed, resurfacing seconds later with a small flask secured in his grasp. He skips down the stairs two at a time, stuffing the flask in one of the pockets on the inside of his jackets, and finally jumps in the car waiting for him at the end of the driveway.

“We were beginning to think you were sick.” His father utters with absolutely no flicker of emotion hanging onto his words - Theo seriously believes the man is a robot or something, there’s just no way Jacob Raeken is made of flesh and blood like the rest of them.

“I’m fine.” He replies, hoping his father will drop the conversation altogether. He really doesn’t feel like talking, especially to him.

Thankfully, the man decides to leave it at that, and Theo audibly lets out a breath of relief.

-------------

the best pack out there!!

Liam: captainamerica
Mason: avocadon
Corey: corneliuss
Hayden: hayday
Scott: wolfywolf
Stiles: onlybraincell
Lydia: fashionlydia
Allison: tslovergirll
Malia: mathater
Kira: hellokira
Theo: gaslighter

[7:30] hellokira: someone down to help me w bio??
[7:30] hellokira: im losing my mind
[7:32] onlybraincell: ask theo he good at that
[7:32] Josh Diaz: nah he at some fancy dinner
[7:32] Josh Diaz: tracy is good too if u want
[7:32] Tracy Stewart: i am not
[7:32] Tracy Stewart: im terrible
[7:32] Tracy Stewart: seriously
[7:32] Tracy Stewart: i kill every plant i come across
[7:33] Josh Diaz: lying bitch go help her
[7:33] Tracy Stewart: u dont want my help seriously
[7:33] hellokira: ill take all the help i can get
[7:33] hellokira: im desperate
[7:34] Tracy Stewart: ugh fine
[7:34] hellokira: hell yeah
[7:34] hellokira: lets meet up somewhere
[7:35] Tracy Stewart: the park behind ur school is fine
[7:35] Tracy Stewart: can we get food tho im starving
[7:35] mathater: im tagging along i need help too
[7:35] onlybraincell: arent u good at bio???
[7:35] mathater: no
[7:35] onlybraincell: yes u are??
[7:35] mathater: shut up cockroach
[7:36] Tracy Stewart: u guys are weird
[7:36] hellokira: anyway there at 8 ill buy u food
[7:36] Tracy Stewart: deal girl

-------------

Theo mindlessly skims through the conversations as his father’s car rolls down the unusually desolate roads, and he wonders whether he should butt in for the sake of doing something or if he doesn’t have the energy to listen to their bullshit.

He opts for the second option, rather characteristically, and resigns himself to stare out of the freshly polished window for the rest of the drive.

Admittedly, it’s not a long drive in itself, a couple dozen of minutes on mainly straight roads, but the stifling silence hangs in the car so thick Theo can feel himself choking on it. His father keeps his eyes pointedly fixed on the road ahead of him, and neither his mom or Tara have uttered a single word since they all stepped inside the car. He doesn’t know if they’re both just stressed or tired from school and work, but he feels as if there’s something they aren’t quite telling him.

As he struggles with the urge to simply withdraw the flask from his pocket and chug the whole thing down in a gulp, he fidgets with a hangnail on his thumb until it starts bleeding profusely and he swears under his breath as he sucks his finger into his mouth.

Seems like nothing is going well today, he thinks to himself.

He can faintly hear birds chirp outside as they fly and float through the sky, but the pitch darkness that seems to engulf everything in a fifty-mile radius doesn’t let him see anything other than his reflection in the shiny car window.

He thinks that if his father cared about keeping his family together like he cared about keeping this car shiny and polished, they’d suddenly transform into a Christmas card worthy family overnight, with matching, hideous knit sweaters and a dog in a Santa Claus hat.

Instead, Theo can’t remember the last time they even put up lights.

-------------

the liar, the bitch, and her slutty wardrobe

Tracy: liar
Theo: bitch
Josh: sluttywardrobe

[8:24] sluttywardrobe: wassup man
[8:24] sluttywardrobe: hows it going
[8:26] bitch: terribly
[8:26] bitch: im considering jumping out of the window
[8:26] bitch: how did u convince trace to do that anyway
[8:26] sluttywardrobe: do what
[8:26] bitch: yk help kira
[8:27] sluttywardrobe: i have my ways
[8:27] bitch: sure you do
[8:27] sluttywardrobe: okay i promised id do all her hw for next week
[8:27] bitch: why tho
[8:28] sluttywardrobe: so she can collect info on hayden
[8:28] sluttywardrobe: shes like gossip girl but more evil
[8:28] bitch: valid
[8:28] bitch: gtg the ladies want me
[8:29] sluttywardrobe: yeah yeah

-------------

Theo shuffles in his seat to hide his phone just in time for his father to turn towards him, inciting him to go and talk to someone. Theo nods almost imperceptibly and slowly wanders around the room, inching closer to the bathroom as he engages in conversations he couldn’t care less about with people he has never seen before.

He has almost reached the bathroom door, a hand already curled on the flask, when a surprised voice snaps him out of his head.

“Theodore! Long time no see!” 

Theo turns around abruptly at the unfamiliar voice, tone upbeat and bordering on scary. He quickly locates the source of the sound when a tall man pops out of nowhere in front of his face.

“Mr. Reed,” Theo greets with a smile, hoping the man hasn’t noticed his brief hesitation on his name. Sue him, he can’t be bothered to remember every and each one of his father’s stuffy colleagues.

“My, my, look how grown up you are! You’re a man now!” Mr. Reed basically yells, and Theo physically cringes back at the volume of the man’s voice. He has always been a little hard of hearing, he supposes.

“That happens, usually.” Theo replies, biting back a grimace and an even more sarcastic quip. He asks himself how many times he’s going to be subjected to the same conversation over and over again, with people who can’t seem to fathom that he’s not seven years old anymore. Maybe they just don’t wanna admit they got old too.

“You’ve always been funny, boy,” The man claps a hand on Theo’s back, and he distinctly recalls being shy and awfully quiet as a child. He doesn’t reply, and he keeps smiling politely until Mr. Reed claps his hands together and excuses himself with a flourish.

Theo couldn’t be happier.

Once he’s inside the bathroom, he lets his head drop against the hard surface of the door, and breathes deeply for a couple of seconds.

When has grounded himself enough to open his eyes again, he pointedly ignores the confused stares the old men already inside the room level him with, choosing instead to stride inside the first stall that doesn’t look occupied.

Apparently he needs a pair of glasses, on top of a new dignity.

“What the fu-”

“I’m sorry, ma- Dunbar?”

“Raeken??”

Theo gapes at him, his mouth open in the shape of an “O”, and for once he notices that Dunbar is speechless.

He doesn’t even have a sarcastic retort in mind. Who is he becoming?

“What are you doing here?” Liam asks, his brows furrowed in confusion, and Theo can hear in his voice that he has the guts to sound annoyed. Like, what?

“I could ask you the same thing!” He snaps back, incredulous and slightly pissed off already.

“My mom got invited by a dicky coworker of hers, who apparently thinks this is enjoyable in any way,” Liam mutters, and Theo gets the feeling that he’s talking to himself more than to him.

For a second, he almost feels bad for the guy. I mean, he gets it. He also was forced to wear an incredibly uncomfortable suit and spend four hours wishing he was doing anything other than this. Hell, he would’ve studied history, willingly.

“Yeah, same.” He whispers with a half-snort, when his phone chimes in his pocket, and he remembers what he’s supposed to be doing.

He ignores the texts from Tara asking where the hell he is, and if he’s dead somewhere in a ditch or has managed to get himself thrown out in no time, and grabs the flask from his pocket.

He twists the cap off with his teeth and downs a quarter of it in one go, almost hissing at the burning taste of alcohol sliding down his throat. After a beat, he seems to remember he has company in the tiny stall, and lifts his gaze to find Dunbar staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Which is decidedly out of character for the guy, who’s like an open picture book.

“What, you gonna tell on me?” Theo jokes as he takes another swig, and can almost feel his body start to get warmer.

“Not if you share,” Dunbar replies, and fuck no. Theo’s not gonna get drunk in a minuscule bathroom stall with this guy.

“Why would I?”

“Cause you invaded my stall?”

“Not yours.”

“I was in it first.”

“You weren’t even doing anything!”

“Uh-well, I could’ve!”

“I’m not gonna give you my stuff.”

“I’m gonna tell everyone outside you pissed yourself.”

“And they would believe that, why?”

“Dude, just share! I know you have tons at home!”

Okay, fair point. Nobody really notices him when he grabs bottles from the cabinet in the living room, he doubts anyone would even care. And really, he doesn't have an issue with sharing. He just wants to piss Dunbar off. 

Theo weighs his options for a moment, and slowly extends his flask over.

Dunbar smirks and yanks it out of his hands, almost dropping it inside the toilet.

Liam has merely taken a sip of the liquor when Theo realises he can smell the alcohol in Dunbar’s warm breath, and he decides it’s way too cramped inside the stall, and everything is too warm.

Without a word, he grabs the flask back, Dunbar whining like a child and already starting to complain when Theo says, “Let’s get outta here,” and shuts him up, before taking off.

He doesn’t wait for Dunbar to catch up with him, and when he does Theo is already halfway down the marble steps of that ridiculously fancy restaurant, hoping nobody will see the two of them stealthily sneak out.

After they have reached a far spot in the parking lot where the lights are dim enough to blur their faces into outlines and silhouettes, Theo declares it’s the right spot, and fishes the flask out again.

They drink in silence for the most part, occasionally snapping something at each other and then falling quiet again, when Liam breaks the spell of silence. Obviously.

“Listen, I- uh, have a question.” His voice sounds small, almost uncertain, and Theo thinks he sounds so different from his usual biting tone. He listens.

“Oh, what now?”

“Why did you take the fall for me?”

“What are you talking about?” Theo replies, even though he can feel his stomach start to knot. Typical of Dunbar, ruin every mildly decent interaction they might have with talks about the past. Seriously, Theo is over that. Dunbar should be too.

“That-that night, when I accidentally broke a window at school and you took the blame. Why would you do that? We weren’t even friends back then.”

“We were never friends.” Theo says, and instantly regrets it. He can see Liam visibly deflate, even if just a little, and the knot tightens around him.

“I just thought you didn’t need more trouble.” He adds, after they fall silent again. He remembers those days, as much as he tries to pretend he doesn’t. And he remembers how Liam felt during that time, when everything and everyone seemed to go against him after his diagnosis. Theo just thought it would’ve been a nice thing to do, and didn’t think twice. Anyway, the detention got him away from his house for a while, and that was nice.

“It was.. nice, of you. Thanks.”

“I guess.”

Theo drains the last bit of liquor, and by this point he’s positively buzzed. His head is light on his shoulders, and he almost swears he’s in a good mood.

“Do you- do you remember when I put red dye in your shampoo? Man, you were sooo mad,” Liam tries, and Theo can’t really understand why he’s trying to keep the conversation alive. If it were for him, they could both return to their previous mingling and pretend this had never happened. Apparently Dunbar wants to chat. Great.

“Yeah, ‘cause I was orange for two weeks? That was my body wash!”

“I know! You looked like a carrot and I don’t think I’ve ever laughed harder when your girlfriend of the time dumped you ‘cause, ‘cause it was too embarrassing!”

Theo shakes his head, trying desperately to fight the smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

“And how about when I glued your locker shut? Wanna talk about how you smacked yourself in the face with it?” He then says. Two can play at this game.

“Man, shut the fuck up. I had a bruise on my forehead for like six days.”

“Well-fucking-deserved.”

They keep going for a while, recalling every stupid prank they pulled on each other until neither of them can remember how long they spent sitting on the curb, drinking in their fancy suits and recalling dumb moments.

“And then you-” Theo is saying, even though he has lost track of the point five minutes ago and he’s trying to collect his thoughts as much as he can in his state.

Through his blurred vision, he can see Dunbar’s eyes focusing on him, the bright blue of his irises dimmed down to an unintelligible thing under the yellow lights of the lampposts, and Theo doesn’t remember when they got so close that their shoulders are pressed together.

He finds that he doesn’t really care.

He takes a deep breath, tries to recall what it was that he was blabbering about, but he comes up short when he’s met by Liam’s eyes skating over him. He thinks it’s the alcohol in both of their systems, making them dizzy and dampening his usual inhibitions, but he can swear that Liam is staring at his lips.

Theo shakes his head with violence, blinks a couple of times and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes until there are tiny black spots dancing around in his vision, but when he regains the ability to see properly he finds Liam still pointedly staring at him, as if he’s a very interesting puzzle he can’t seem to solve.

“What are you looking a-” Theo starts, but before the words can leave his mouth, Liam surges forward and presses his mouth on his.

The kiss is uncertain, and doesn’t last long enough for either of them to actually grasp what’s going on, but for a moment Theo feels electrified. Flickers of fire bursting through his body and connecting to his fingertips where he mindlessly grazes Liam’s knuckles.

Then, before he can fully understand what’s happening, he pulls back as if burned. He suddenly stands up, runs a hand across his mouth and through his hair, and doesn’t utter a single word.

“Fuck. Fuck, dude- I’m, I’m sorry-” Liam is saying, hurriedly, but Theo only pushes him away, tries to put as much distance between them as he can, and struggles to find his breath.

“What the fuck-” He hears himself whisper, to himself and to nobody, and suddenly his head is spinning and he’s way too drunk and he shouldn’t have done this and oh my God his father is going to kill him-

He figures he must look like a madman from the outside, because Liam tries to get closer again and speaks quietly, mumbling something along the lines of: “It’s okay, I’m sorry”.

But Theo doesn’t want to hear it. He can’t, and he can’t, and he can’t breathe and his fucking tie is strangling him and fuck. Fuck.

“Get the fuck away from me,” he stutters, and almost trips over his own feet as he turns and starts running.

He runs and runs until he can’t hear Liam’s voice anymore, but he can still taste the alcohol on his lips and it drives him furthermore into a spiral. He drops down onto the ground, throws his tie somewhere in the field behind him and breathes.

He keeps breathing until his fingers manage to unlock his phone and dial Josh’s number, hoping he’ll pick up and won’t decide to leave him to die in this field alone.

“Hey, man, how’s it goin-” Josh’s voice is barely audible over the sound of static, and he can’t believe his signal decides to be so fucking shitty when he needs it more.

“I need you to pick me up.” Theo interrupts him abruptly.

“What? Are you okay? Are you drunk?”

“What? Uh-no, yeah, that’s not the point, please.Can you pick me up?”

“Sure, I mean, what about your family?”

“I don’t give a shit, Josh. Please, please, come,”

He can feel his speech coming out slurred, the words heavy and foreign in his mouth, and he can’t fight the sting in his eyes when he hangs up, waiting for Josh to rescue him from this pathetic mess he’s gotten himself into.

-------------

Josh asks too many questions, all stitched together with no time for Theo to properly answer him, and finally gives up when he notices his best friend isn’t in the right condition to put up with him.

He keeps quiet for the rest of the night, and Theo can’t put into words how grateful he is. Sure, Josh may have a big mouth and often uses it before thinking, but he’s always there for his friends, no matter what.

Neither of them talk again, except for brief and necessary interactions to which Theo often responds with a nod or a shake of his head, and doesn’t say a word when Josh forces him to sleep in his bed, insisting he’d take the couch, and instead he shuts his eyes tight when the memories and the nausea threaten to spill past his lips.

He wishes Josh a good night, and if he cries for a while, muffling his quiet sobs in the pillow, that’s nobody's business.