Carefree and Careful

"Be cautious," Ellie had said. Right. I can be cautious.

I won't meet up with Alastair after school anymore. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to invite him to sit with us at lunch either. That just left study hall. As long as we stick to the abandoned chalkboard maze, I don't think anyone will see us together.

However, when I arrive at the labyrinth the next day, I don't smell lavender. He isn't here. I worry for a moment that maybe Alastair doesn't know to come here. I guess we didn't really talk yesterday about where to meet up, just said we would study together during third period. If he isn't here or at the library, I'm at a loss for where to look.

Over the last month, there were several days I wandered between the two places, just to waste time during study hall or in the hopes of maybe seeing him. Yet, besides the day of my heat and the day he comforted that witch, I never saw him in either the library or labyrinth. I'm pretty sure he has one more hiding place I'm not aware of.

I'm standing facing the graveyard, trying to decide whether or not to check the library, when I catch a whiff of lavender. I whip around quickly, but I'm still slightly startled to see him so close to me. He has his hand extended towards me as if he was about to tap my shoulder. He looks just as shocked at my abrupt movement as I am by his proximity. But his ability to sneak up on me despite my superior senses is not the most surprising thing.

Any thoughts I have about being careful around Alastair abruptly fly out of my head when I see his appearance. He is wearing makeup. For the first time in months, his black eyeliner has been reapplied and his lashes look a little fuller. All seven of his rainbow ear piercings have returned to his auricle and his diamond nose ring shines like the North Star once more on his freckle-formed constellation chart.

Fuck. He's hot.

A subtle smirk, more prominent in the eyes than a turn of his lips, replaces his initial surprise. "Am I that stunning?"

"Uh…" I scramble trying to think of a response, but my mind is blinded. Dazzled. Fried by his brilliance. "Is that a trick question?"

Alastair laughs and says something. Goddess his laugh. His real laugh I haven't heard in a month. Shy and low, but creamy smooth. Like caramel, I decide, to match his skin.

"Cam, did you hear what I said?"

I flush, utterly embarrassed to have been caught staring at him, not listening at all. "Uh… no. Sorry, I was still stunned by you— by you sneaking up on me, I mean."

He laughs again. Shit. Focus, Cam. Now what is he saying?

"—really bad liar, aren't you?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean, what?"

He smiles. Carefree. His whole demeanor today seems different, like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. But that can't be right. Can it?

"I'll have you know I'm a very good liar," I find myself saying as my brain finally catches up to what he said. "You're just extremely perceptive."

"Right, just like I knew you were lying yesterday when you said you just wanted to be my friend. I don't need to be a telepath or an empath to tell how hard you're crushing on me right now."

His expression never loses that carefree cadence as he speaks, but something about what he said seems off. Whether I am a good liar or not is up for debate, but there is no doubt in my mind that Alastair, at least, is an excellent one. I know from experience he can act totally indifferent while really a torrent of pain and guilt roars inside of him. I need to tread very cautiously here.

"Alastair, because you still refuse to read my mind, I want you to listen to me carefully." I pause to make sure I have his full attention and he can see the seriousness in my eyes, feel the sincerity in my heart. "I may not always be able to control the raging attraction I feel for you," Goddess did I really say something so embarrassing out loud? Oh well. It's not like Alastair doesn't know and I'm committed now. "BUT that doesn't mean I expect anything from you. Now or ever."

Alastair looks at me with a mixture of confusion, hope, and worry. "Really?" he whispers.

"All I want—all I will ever want—is for you to be happy, not just pretend to be happy."

His almond eyes grow wide when I say this. His eyebrows reach almost to his hairline and he blinks rapidly a few times, before tearing his gaze away from me to stare at the ground.

"I always thought I was good at pretending," Alastair mumbles, "but somehow you always cut through all my defenses."

"You don't have to pretend around me."

"I didn't mean to…" He bites his lip, thinking. "I do feel better today. Better than I have in a while."

I nod, understanding, but still a little sad thinking about everything he's been going through alone. "Well… sorry for ruining your mood with my unsolicited feelings."

"I don't actually mind your… crush," he murmurs, cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink ever invented.

"What?" I grip my chest sarcastically. "Are you telling me that being hit on by the hottest gay in the school might make you the tiniest bit happy?"

Alastair just rolls his eyes. "Do you know what would actually make me happy?" A soft smirk graces his perfect bow lips. "If I could stop failing all my classes."

"Are you failing classes besides precalc?" I ask, suddenly worried.

Alastair sighs heavily. "No, not really. But I'm pretty sure I'm getting a D in world history."

"Oh, who's your teacher?"

"Dungan?"

"Oh, I had him last year! A total snooze fest. I could never focus, but Nico loved that class when he took it, like, a hundred years ago."

"Nico?" Alastair gives me a questioning look. "Is that your brother?"

"Oh yeah, I guess he's…" I do some quick mental math. "...four years older than you? I didn't even think that you probably don't know him by name."

Alastair hums. "So, he is a big history buff?" he asks, encouraging me to continue talking.

"Not really. He's premed in college, but he could watch paint dry and probably think it was interesting. And his notes are life savers. Color coded masterpieces. I think I still have them lying around somewhere... if you want them?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, totally. I'll bring them tomorrow."

"Thanks." He flashes me a surprised smile. "Aaaand… as enjoyable as it is to just stand here talking to you, maybe we could focus on helping me not fail precalc too?"

I flush, a little embarrassed at how sidetracked I'd gotten. Of course his earlier comment about failing classes had been a hint for us to start studying.

"Yeah. That would probably be a good idea."

Alastair beams. "Cool."

"Cool, cool, cool," I say, pointing with my index finger near my face at nothing in particular.

"Pfft," Alastair laughs as we walk into the maze together. "I never realized what a total dork you are, Cam."

"Only you get to see my dorky side. Tell anyone else and I will deny it vehemently."

"Uh huh. Whatever you say Abed."

"I'm definitely more of a Jake Peralta type."

"You know I might actually agree with you on that one, but you said the line like Abed, sooo…" He spreads his arms wide and shrugs.

I grin at the silliness of this debate. "I never took you for a pop culture guru."

"Oh, I actually really like movies and TV." He gives me a sheepish smile as we find a good place in the labyrinth to settle down.

"What? You don't do enough people watching in your life already?" I tease.

"Well... fake people are the only ones whose minds I can't read, so I really like it when characters surprise me. Twist villains are the best." He gets this excited look in his shining eyes. "Like Hans, from Frozen—"

I groan. "Not you too?!"

"Something wrong with Frozen?" he asks, slightly affronted.

"Don't get me started," I say as I pull out my textbook and notebook. "If you want to actually get around to studying that is."

"Right. Precalc... We should probably do that."