CHAPTER THREE: A PARTNER I DIDN'T CHOOSE

CHAPTER THREE

A PARTNER I DIDN'T CHOOSE

Dylan pushed the front door open and stepped into the house. He paused for a split second as he looked around. On the right, the sitting room door was slightly ajar and he could hear the sounds of a football game from the TV speaker. That meant that his brother was probably glued to the set.

The stairs were right ahead, on the left.

The last thing that he wanted was Rocky stopping him and asking questions about the party. So, he was moving towards the stairs. But he had climbed two steps when someone called out to him.

"Dylan."

His heart skipped a beat as he froze and turned around. Rocky was standing in the doorway, holding a beer in one hand and a slice of cold pizza in the other. His brown hair stuck out in all directions and faded beer stains dotted his shirt. He looked like he hadn't taken a shower in two days.

Still, it didn't stop girls from flocking him. Dylan always wondered how that was even possible.

"You coming from the party?" Rocky asked.

"Yes," Dylan answered, turning his face to the wall, angling the hickey away from his brother's sight. "Yeah, I am."

"And?" Rocky asked, grinning. "How was it? Did you meet Logan?"

Rocky had captained the football team during his time at Brookridge. After learning Logan was taking after him, he adopted the twin as the brother he never had.

"Logan was there," Dylan answered. "Can I go upstairs now?"

"Yeah," Rocky laughed and waved him off. "Sure, sure, get out of here." He turned to the TV but then stopped again. "Wait. Is that a hickey?"

Dylan’s hand snapped to his neck. How the fuck did he forget about it?

"Yeah," he said, turning to Rocky again. "I got laid last night. But I was drunk and it was just a one-night–"

Rocky let out a loud laugh before Dylan could finish. He grabbed his brother, pulling him into a beer-scented hug. "You finally managed to get yourself a girl."

Dylan let out an awkward laugh. "Y-yeah."

"You finally pulled yourself a chick." Rocky stepped back and frowned. "You know, for a second there I thought you were…" He didn't complete his sentence, just shook his head in disgust.

Ever since their father deserted their mother for a man he'd met in his new office job, Rocky hated everything remotely related to homosexuality. When he noticed Dylan wasn't interested in girls, he'd tried setting him up more times than he could count. But Dylan had turned him down every single time, never giving a reason for doing so.

This was why he could never tell Rocky the truth–not about himself and not about Logan.

"I have to take a shower," Dylan said as he started moving.

"Yeah, get out of here," Rocky laughed as he walked back to the living room.

Dylan raced up the stairs, but the shower could wait. His thoughts had traveled back to the night before. Why hadn't Logan done anything when he kissed him? Why didn't he stop him and tell him the truth?

What would happen if his best friend found out?

The unanswered questions bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

But then he shook the thoughts from his head. He needed to shower. Last night was a mistake. They would dig a hole, bury whatever this is, and continue as if nothing ever happened.

If only it were that simple.

_______________

The next morning, Rocky drove Dylan to school. As he dropped him off, he teased him about the hickey, saying there was no shame in getting laid. But Dylan had already concealed the bruise with what he'd learned from a makeup tutorial that morning.

Pulling up his hood, he walked away without a word.

Dylan walked through the halls of Brookridge High, looking suspiciously at every student's group he passed by. He knew Logan Hayes wouldn't talk. As the school's golden boy and embodiment of the perfect male, he had a reputation to protect, just as much as Dylan did.

But no matter what he told himself, he couldn't get over it. Every laugh felt targeted right at him and every look seemed to stay half a second too long. Dylan felt completely exposed, as if all these people could see through his clothes to the scar on his neck.

“Get yourself together,” Dylan told himself as he slipped into the lecture hall.

He found Lucas seated halfway down the rows, flipping through pages of a novel he’d bought a week before. He looked up when Dylan plopped down next to him and smiled warmly at him.

"You finally made it," he joked.

Dylan gave an uncomfortable laugh and elbowed Lucas's shoulder. "Of course I did. Thank you for last night, by the way. It was a great party."

"Anytime," Lucas grinned. “It got you laid. So I guess I did my job as the host."

"So," Dylan said, trying to move away from the topic, "you thought about what you're doing for the arts project?"

"Not yet,” Lucas answered, closing the book. “You?"

Lucas shook his head. "No clue. I was thinking maybe–"

Before he could finish, the door open and Mr. Ferdinand strode in, adjusting his glasses. "Sorry for the interruption," he said, walking to the desk. "Mr. Kerry's out sick today. So Arts will fill in for him. This class will take the full period. We're already behind schedule, as it is."

The students groaned in frustration. Somewhere behind Dylan, Madeline McGavin murmured something to the girl sitting by her and snorted. Mr. Ferdinand pretended not to notice.

"Now that we're all here,” he continued, pulling a textbook from his bag, "I wanted to make an announcement–"

The door opened again, cutting him short.

Logan entered the room, looking composed as usual. The girls squealed excitedly behind Dylan, some speaking in hushed whispers and others blushing. Mr. Ferdinand, however, did not seem to care.

Dylan felt his stomach twist at the sound. The second his eyes landed on Logan, memories from that morning came flooding back–the warm light, the arm around his waist, the wrong face staring back at him.

He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his rage off his own face.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Dylan muttered.

“He has Bio this period,” Lucas said with a low voice. “But Arts got bumped into the slot. Guess that's why.”

That still didn't satisfy Dylan. Judging from the grin Logan wore, he could tell he intentionally did this.

As Logan approached the desks, a couple of girls patted the empty seats next to them. But he did not even give them any attention. He searched the room until his gaze settled on Dylan.

Without a word, he walked past the girls, dropped down on the seat right beside Dylan’s, and winked at him. The girls murmured in frustration but Dylan felt sick.

Lucas cursed under his breath. "Logan got laid last night too," he whispered, pointing to the hickey on Logan's neck. “Of course he'd leave it open for the world to see.”

Dylan's hand unconsciously reached for his neck as he swallowed.

Mr. Ferdinand cleared his throat and continued from where he stopped before. "As I was saying, the art project I set last week will now be done in pairs. Your principal asked that I encourage teamwork and collaboration from you all. So you may pick your partners now."

But before Dylan had the chance to ask Lucas to be his partner, the chair beside him shot back.

Logan stood up, smiling as though he'd already made up his mind days ago. "Dylan is my partner."

The class fell silent.

Dylan's head whirled around. Even Lucas looked at him in surprise. "What?"

"I pick Dylan as my partner," Logan said again, like he hadn't just detonated a bomb before the class.

Mr. Ferdinand raised an eyebrow. "I hope you're not trying to take a free ride on the second-best student in this class, Mr. Hayes."

Some students laughed. But Logan remained unmoved.

"If you really think that you'll be able to work together better," Mr. Ferdinand continued, "I don't see any problems."

Logan looked at Dylan, the same slow smile fixed in place. "Oh, we will work together better," he said. "I am sure of it."