Chapter 6

5' 3"

To Ethan's surprise, Noah was indeed quite popular. Every person whom Ethan had asked about Morgan knew exactly who was the subject of the conversation. And then, like true experts, these people would sound like a broken record, telling over and over again about a thousand and a one dick that once had been in his mouth. When Ethan would ask them for some real evidence of his actions, besides dumb anonymous chat and endless rumors, everybody would get embarrassed and start saying a load of hooey. Despite them saying all this dumb stuff, Ethan managed to fish out some useful pieces of information. For instance, he found out that Noah was in his third year at the Art History and Criticism Department. or that he would always wear those weird kimono shirts. Or that he would buy an enormous amount of food for lunch and consume it with dangerous speed. 'But really, he stuffs himself with all those buns like he's training his throat or something. Have you seen that he's as thin as a rail? With that appetite? Probably he burns a shit ton of calories from sucking all those dicks. Wait, why do you ask?'

Noah was being criticized and judged. People mocked him for everything, starting from his clothes and up to his food preferences. And every single thing, of course, was connected with his bad reputation. Apparently he had acne because of sperm (nonsense). His clothes were whore-ish (absolutely ordinary). He had a bad attitude (on the contrary, Morgan seemed to be a bit uptight and not really a self-confident guy). And he smelled because all of his men (last time they met, Noah smelled like lavender; Ethan liked it). Everything related to Noah was immediately rendered stupidly absolute, with a sexual undertone. Ethan understood two things. The first one: people didn't judge Noah for his real action. People judged him because they just liked to judge. They liked to humiliate while remaining high and mighty. They were the jury of their imaginary court, hiding subjectivity and indulgence in their own egocentrism and so-called justice. And even the most genteel guys, from the beginning, turned out to be really talkative when they had a chance to share a couple of nasty stories about the guy they had never met before. The second one: Morgan was getting more and more interesting. If Ethan were him and had his 'Devil's Eye', he would turn this university into hell. He would reveal all the nasty secrets; he would point out everyone's imperfections. The best defense is a good offense.

Morgan was different from Ethan because his moral compass was facing the other direction, which Thomson had never chosen before. And it seemed nuts, but at the same time, it was...charming. Ethan had no idea that people like him still existed. The more Morgan was trashed, the more Ethan wanted to know him better and find out the truth.

It wasn't difficult to find the cafeteria closest to the art critics' block. Ethan didn't mean anything bad. He just wanted to observe Morgan for a bit. Thomson didn't plan to approach him or talk to him. He just wanted to see him and, if he got lucky, maybe hear him. Probably, if Ethan told anyone about this desire, he would be considered weird.

The only obstacle was that Ethan's classes were in another building, and he couldn't make it during lunch time. Only today he had some spare time in his schedule, which gave him the opportunity to make his dreams come true and 'accidentally' run into Noah.

While Ethan was going through campus, he was trying to convince himself to turn around and go back. Why would he pour salt on a wound? He knew quite well that there was no way they could develop some sort of relationship. He couldn't let himself date anyone. Just be friends, then? The idea was barbaric in the first place. Ethan knew himself too well to understand: his interest didn't mean friendship. It either expands and becomes something bigger and deeper, or it disappears completely. There could be nothing in between.

Ethan continued persuading himself, but he didn't leave the art department anyway. There was a lot of noise in the cafeteria. Ethan chose a vending machine over a huge line for pastries, even though some passing girls said that the coffee 'costs an arm and a leg'. Luckily, Ethan could afford all of that: an arm, a leg, and coffee. His dad made good money and never set limits for his son. Considering Ethan's basic needs, the money that his dad would send him occasionally was just piling up.

Thomson got himself some black coffee and went to a free table. The cafeterias of art and related departments differed quite a lot from those where lawyers preferred to eat. They would be puffed up, engaging in furious debates over any possible reason. That's why there was an impression that you were on some endless battlefield. Art people, on the contrary, had creative chaos in their cafeteria. Quite an intriguing atmosphere.

Ethan caught some surprised people watching him, but he didn't pay attention to them. After he took his mask off and had a sip of scalding coffee, he started looking casually around, trying to spot Morgan. The interest in his boring persona suddenly went up after he took his mask off. How do people have so much spare time?

It was easy to spot Morgan. With a pile of buns in his hands. It seemed like he made small talk with some guy, probably a bully, and then sat down at his friends' table with his back exposed to Ethan. A chubby girl with an unreal bush of hair was true expressiveness. A thin guy wearing glasses, sitting next to her, chorused her from time to time. It felt like Ethan had already seen them at the party. He was curious about what they were discussing so emotionally.

During their intriguing conversation, Morgan buried his hand in his thick hair and then messed it up, showing the shaved back of his head. Ethan looked at his hand unintentionally. His fingertips were slightly shaking. It happened because a sudden fantasy appeared in his head, where Ethan was the one who would touch Morgan's hair, then grab it in a bun and pull fiercely, making him throw back his head. Ethan clicked his tongue irritatedly after this inappropriate fantasy. He should've gotten this picture out of his head immediately.

He shouldn't have let himself watch Morgan so obviously, that's why he scrolled his phone with no interest, but after he found nothing useful there, he just started staring at his half-finished coffee cup and spinning it around. He should've left the cafeteria, but he wasn't ready for that. It was a pity, of course, that Ethan was sitting too far away; that's why he couldn't hear Morgan's voice. On the other hand, the chance to meet Noah's eye was definitely lower. The last thing he wanted was...

"Hey," the universe decided to make a joke. Ethan looked up from the extremely interesting paper cup and then looked at the extremely interesting Morgan, who appeared right in front of him.

Thomson got lost for a second; that's why the usual greeting got stuck in his throat. Morgan seemed a bit confused after not hearing 'hello' back.

"Maybe you don't remember me…"

"I do," Ethan dropped fast, trying to look as casual as he could.

"May I join?" Morgan asked modestly.

Ethan gestured to a chair in front of him while automatically putting his mask back on. Morgan sat at the table and, as he thought, looked around casually. Probably, he was trying to watch for possible haters. Ethan didn't waste time on that. He just held his breath (Morgan was sitting too close, after all), then he pulled his mask back and sipped some coffee. He burned his lips; after that, he put his mask back on, fully satisfied, and exhaled.

"Dang, probably, that's gonna sound weird from a person you know nothing about…"-Morgan rubbed his neck nervously-"Like there's... Well…"

Ethan cocked his left eyebrow, showing some scepsis.

"Hm-m-m-m… Do you like live music?" the guy finally asked.

"I like good singing," Ethan answered calmly.

"Then I have an irresistible offer!" Morgan stated it a bit too emotionally.

"There are no such offers," Ethan lied, while unintentionally browsing his sharp collarbones, visible even through a thin shirt. In reality, Morgan had no idea that he was actually on a small list of people who Ethan couldn't even possibly turn down.

"So… You would refuse anything I'd suggest?" Noah grew weak. It was just too easy to read his emotions. He seemed confused and embarrassed. That night at Hughes', he tried to seem cool-headed, hiding vulnerability and confusion behind nonchalance. But then, in that conversation with Rufus, it was easy to spot expressive hopelessness through put-on cockiness in Noah's voice. Like he was pushed to the wall.

"No. I'm just saying that I can only refuse anything you'd suggest," Ethan corrected him. "That's my civil right."

"Oh, those fine philological distinctions!" Morgan cheered up. "If I didn't know that you're a lawyer, I would've..." he stopped short, clearly thinking that he had put a foot in it. Ethan wasn't bothered that Morgan found out something about his department. He was just a bit curious, whether it was unintentionally or purposefully. How fun would that be if it turned out that they had been deliberately asking about each other via third parties?

"Uh…" Morgan struggled to speak again, "I want you deadly!"

Now Ethan flicked both of his eyebrows with a questioning look. Noah was scarlet with shame and hid his face in his palms.

"God, I didn't mean that,"-he moaned-"Actually…I didn't mean it the way you might've thought!"

"And what did you mean? Something related to cannibalism?" Ethan suggested being purely calm. He was glad that mask hid a smile beaming on his lips the moment before.

Morgan turned even more red.

"N-n-n-o," he forced out. "I mean the bar. It's called 'I want you deadly!'" Morgan explained. "Have you heard about it?"

Ethan shook his head. He wasn't a bar person.

"The point is, my friends are performing there this Friday. And…hm…well…would be great if you joined!" he stated. 

A date? Morgan was asking Ethan out on a date? 

"Why would it be great?" Thomson chuckled while slightly rocking in his chair. That's how he was trying to hide a slight shaking in his whole body.

"The more people, the better," Morgan mumbled unpersuasively.

So, that wasn't a date? What a pity. However, if that was it, Ethan would've had to refuse.

"Are there many people who usually come to your friends' gigs?"

Morgan shrugged his shoulders ambiguously.

"Around ten."

"Oh… Another listener—it's a strong contribution then," Ethan stretched the phrase and knocked on the table with his index finger. "What time does the gig start?"

"At eight," Morgan answered, clearly shocked. He probably didn't think that Ethan would agree. Why did he come up to him in the first place and ask him out then? "Shall we exchange numbers so that we can get in touch the day before and agree about where we'll meet? If you don't mind my company, of course," Noah mumbled, scratching his nose in confusion.

He was, actually, the only reason why Ethan was coming.

"Why would I?" Thomson couldn't help but tease Morgan with another provocative question.

"You can never tell," Noah mumbled, not knowing where to hide from Ethan's eye. Thomson gave Noah his phone number and then continued staring at his cup of already cold coffee, wondering whether he was walking on thin ice, playing with his feelings and his unachieved dreams. He was. He definitely was. And the ice was extremely thin.

"Damn, jackpot! Two freaks at the same table," they heard a chuckle from a guy passing by. Ethan sighed and looked at him, moving away. He had never seen this person before.

"Who's that?" he asked Noah while still looking at the stranger.

"I have no idea," Morgan said, shrugging his shoulders in confusion.

"Hey, you," Ethan called the guy who dropped that stupid phrase. Morgan shievered and tightened. "Did you say something? I didn't catch it. Repeat," Thomson said it loud enough to grab everyone's attention. He had always done it. Speaking face-to-face usually makes people squirm or evade the consequences of the things they say. But if they were being watched by others, those idiots would start puffing up like peacocks. Well, at the beginning. 

"Let it go. There are a lot of jerks in our department," Morgan mumbled while fidgeting with his phone.

Ethan decided not to break it to Noah that there were plenty of jerks in any university department. He was also mocked in the law department during the first month of his freshman year because of the mask and medical gloves. Though Ethan made it quite clear that it was more trouble than it was worth doing that.

"I can't let go," Ethan shook his head, looking at that tall guy approaching. Thomson preferred crushing any kind of negativity in the bud rather than ignoring it. And he crushed that negativity with even more negativity. This strategy never let him down.

"I said," the stranger started when he approached Ethan and Morgan's table and leaned his fists on the table, "That—"

Ethan didn't listen. He grabbed his coffee cup and flung it in the guy's face. He jumped aside in shock. He looked at Ethan for a couple of seconds, then switched to his, sometime white and now covered in coffee stains, t-shirt.

"Are you fucking nuts?!" he yelled.

"No, you are nuts," Ethan corrected him calmly.

"You wanna die, or something?"

That was an interesting proposal.

"Do you want to punch me?" Ethan asked innocently. "Go for it."

"You're gonna threaten me with legal action again, aren't ya?" there was a mix of anger and doubt on the guy's face.

Ethan didn't say anything about the court, but everybody knew well both about his university department and about his family. It was easy to suggest that Thomson would prefer to deal with any sort of conflict in a legal manner. As a matter of fact, Ethan always tried to have a plan B in case a bully tried to contact the authorities.

"I don't, and I won't have a reason to threaten you with legal action. It's gonna be your prerogative. That's why I have to inform you that things won't work out," Ethan notified him. "Cameras are everywhere. Here"-he nodded toward a corner in the cafeteria-"there"-he pointed in the opposite direction-"and a couple at the back entrance. They will record that you attacked first, which means that all my following actions will be considered self-defense. Self-defense, of course, will be way too excessive. Taking into account our height differences and stereotypes related to them, the jury would justify me even if you remained disabled for life," he explained. "And you will remain one, I can tell you that."

"Fucking crazy," the guy exhaled more frighteningly than aggressively. Then, he turned around and almost ran out of the cafeteria. Ethan twisted the empty cup in his hands. Morgan was staring at him.

"Wow, you're so damn brave," he exhaled admiringly, "I wouldn't be able to do so."

Ethan didn't think he was brave. He could be afraid, just like any other person. Probably, even more often than the majority. He couldn't stand fights. However, he knew a little too well that conflicts don't just vanish. The more you try to escape or ignore them, the bigger the chance that you'll get into some bigger problems. People, like that guy who tried telling some shit to Ethan and Morgan out of boredom, needed excessive training.

"My behavior has nothing to do with bravery; it's quite the opposite," Ethan exhaled, "You're way braver than me."

"Me?!" Morgan laughed heartily. "Come on! I'm a coward!"

"Did your 'Devil's Eye' tell you something about that guy?"

"Well…" Morgan frowned, "There's something…" 

"Like what?"

"Do you promise not to tell anyone?"

"Why would I have to do so?"

"But…" Morgan stiffened even more, "It's personal."

"So what?"

"You can't do that." Morgan mumbled.

"You wouldn't worry that much at the party," Ethan noticed.

"I know that it doesn't excuse me, but I was... drunk. It won't happen again," Morgan mumbled.

"Why? Who you sleep with is also personal, and yet the whole university makes things up about it," Ethan grunted. He knew it would offend Noah, but he supposed it could help reach out to him.

"I wouldn't want to be one of those people," Morgan said, shaking his head. That wasn't the reaction Ethan aimed for.

"Don't be," Ethan shrugged his shoulders, "I am one of those people. Tell me, and I got this."

"Do you understand that this excuse would work in court?" Noah smiled shyly. That was neat. "And it also won't work with my conscience either. By the way, you're not one of those people."

"What makes you think that?" Ethan frowned. 

"If you were one of them, you wouldn't sit with me at the same table right now, wouldn't agree to go to the gig, and definitely wouldn't rebuke me for not defending myself," Noah smiled.

Ethan frowned even more.

"I gotta go," he nodded, stood up, and crushed the paper cup.

"I'll text you on Thursday!" Morgan promised. 

'Please send voice messages,' Ethan thought, but couldn't ask out loud.