“In conclusion…”
“Rebecca Albright has the hots for Asran Priest, Abrus University’s resident emo queer.”
“Get fucked Luci,” I belly laughed and Lucio wheezed, a little bubble of havoc in our corner of the library. More patrons shot us looks. “You’re not pissed off?” I wiped a tear that had trailed the length of my cheek.
“Nah, you’re hot, you just dress weird. I get it. That girl has probably bedded the same type of guy over and over again. She needs something spicy. Something Priestly.” He laughed again, causing a commotion of shushes and angry glares. The thing was, Lucio had taken a peculiar interest in Rebecca since last year. Everyone on campus had. She was beautiful, funny, charming, and elegant. Everyone, that is, except for me. I appreciate glances and quite crushes on me, but I don’t partake in… nighttime activities. Lucio is the only one who I let “warm my bed,” meaning we cuddle as we watch anime. I do harbor romantic feelings, but I haven’t found someone other than Lucio who I’d willingly waste time with. And while he’s happy to make out with me whenever I feel like it, he needs someone else who’s willing to do more than me. We’re not technically dating, we’re just really comfortable around each other. I could care less if he found a relationship with someone.
From all directions, I could feel other students glaring daggers. All right, you win.
“Alright babe, we need to leave.”
The rain had not let up. In fact, it was even worse than when I came here with Rebecca. Lucio and I practically sprinted to our apartment against the torrents. Lucio’s hair was ruined and my bag was waterlogged, but we were in good spirits. Something we shared was our love of rain. It felt cathartic in a way. Something about the cold biting your fingertips and toes as you sit there and feel. Lucio made us hot chocolate and I prepared the dinner before we changed into our pajamas and sat in front of the window. The sky grumbled with thunder as we watched the people below us race against the sheets of rain.
Lucio’s bare face was like a renaissance painting. For some reason, he hated this. Too many people focused on him without actually getting to know him. He had become just something to ogle. The makeup and hair made it easier for him. Hiding behind his manic looking electric locks and white contacts was cowardly, he told me, but it was fun. He could change the way he looked at the drop of a hat. I barely wore makeup. This became burdensome in university. In high school, it was easy to skate by without so much as a glance. But in college, where everyone was more open-minded and didn’t judge me even if I wore a permanent scowl, I had requests left and right to get my makeup done. Last year it was my roommate and her friends. Lucio asked once or twice, but with him, it was not a chore. I didn’t have to sit through false eyelashes and pink lipstick. He’d do me up just like him and then we’d go to clubs. With him, I felt my most comfortable. He had a shit personality but he was just as odd as me. We even had the same sense of humor.
His hands rubbed circles on my back as we people-watched and eyed the storm that was moving closer. The room was getting darker and darker. Eventually, we huddled against each other on the couch, watching but not really watching whatever Lucio flipped to on the tv.
I felt him fidget against me. “Thinking about it, Rebecca liking you freaks me out more than anything.”
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