A/N: Still a flashback moment, from their time in high school. Hope you enjoy <3
Ollie’s POV
I never found it strange that me and Benji had been friends. Sure we had our differences, but since our kindergarten class, Benji had always been at my side. Even during his soccer matches, his little league games, to flag football, and even swim lessons. He was just a sporty guy, and I dabbled in the arts. I had never seen anything wrong with our friendship, never questioned it or wondered why he’d ever possibly hang out with me. It just wasn’t in my repertoire to overthink things like that, I just took our friendship as what I saw it, a friendship. To this day, the best friend bracelet was still attached to my backpack from third grade.
It hadn’t been overnight, Benji’s shift in seeing me as less than a friend. However, over the course of about five practices, was when I started to notice a change in Benji’s attitude toward me. He had never found it odd to hang out or include me, even if I wasn’t one to fit in the jock clique. Even when the defense team would question why Benji would always give me a ride home, or invite me to those silly house parties, he simply brushed it off, telling them to fuck off. Had I been weirded out about attending those underaged drinking sessions, of course, but Benji had never made it seem like I wasn’t welcomed.
That was until Mason had joined his posse of football friends. The coach, and the rest of the team had quickly seen Mason’s skill, rivaling our injured wide receiver, Zane. He had even left a mark on our usually stoic and standoffish running back Aaron. Mason was without a doubt a star on the field, and sure enough his social standing at school rose to the top, attracting the attention of the cheerleaders, band members, even college scouts.
I had chalked it up to us being juniors, the stress of finding good college sports programs and impressing scouts was crucial for football players, especially ones like Benji, who academically struggled. Granted the coaches made sure the boys kept their grades as a C- or better, Benji was notorious for slacking on assignments to practice even after practice hours. That and the parties he threw nearly every weekend surely didn’t help either.
Benji hated talking about his grades, but I figured that was what was on his mind, granted he wasn’t waiting at the bike racks after school like he normally did. He always drove me home, ever since he inherited his grandpa’s truck, one that was as good as new. He had gotten his license as soon as he could, parading around town in the truck like he owned the streets. And since we lived on the same street, Benji made it a point to drive me to and from school; something he had promised as kids to do, given that I took the shitty school bus since second grade.
Today was different, though. If Benji couldn’t drive me home, he’d make sure to remind me in the morning, and send a text right after school, asking if I’d like to wait till after practice. There was no message, and he hadn’t said anything about practice or an away game in the morning. Even when he got caught texting in class, he’d text me about detention before surrendering his phone, but nothing. I gave it five minutes, the campus slowly emptying out as I stared at my phone. Perusing the parking lot, I didn’t spot his truck, nor did I see Mason or the rest of the team. I messaged him, then again two minutes later. Nothing.
Whatever, guess I’m taking the bus or walking, I told myself. My house wasn’t too far, but it still would’ve taken an extra forty minutes to get home, or a twenty minute bus ride. Not wanting to walk with the journalism gear I needed for Saturday’s game, I opted to wait for the next bus. Before I even sat down at the bus stop, a shiny white car came to a stop, honking before rolling the window down. Mason of all people.
“Need a ride?”
“I can just take the bus, it should be here soon.” I waved dismissively, but he gestured to the seat. “Seriously, it’s alright, Mase.”
“Just get in,” he ushered. A couple of walking students passed by the exchange with a curious glance as I opened the car door. It looked and even smelled brand new, the dashboard spotless.
Buckling in, I commented, “you didn’t have to.”
“Yeah, well Benji didn’t drive you, figured you needed a ride.”
“He got detention again?”
“No, he’s setting up for a party tonight.” He said matter of factly before pulling out on the main road. “It’s at Aaron’s place this time.”
I clenched my backpack, Benji hadn’t told me about that in the morning. Maybe it was on a whim? “Huh, he didn’t tell me about this.”
“Oh? I thought you knew.”
“Nope,” I tried to say unfazed, fiddling with the tattered friendship bracelet from one of the zippers. “Is it just for the team?”
"No." He took the offramp, stopping at the intersection. “I don’t see why he wouldn’t invite you?”
I found it odd he didn’t mention it, not even a text or snapchat message. Now that I thought about it, he was rather distant during lunch, interacting with the football boys over things I had no idea what they were talking about. I wasn’t a Call of Duty or Overwatch fan, the only video games I played were Animal Crossing and Fire Emblem. Both of which they had joked about, calling it childish and amateur. It hadn’t bothered me at the time, after all, I joked that it was these childish games that allowed me to still pass my classes with A’s and B’s, unlike them. And even when Connor and the defense members continued mentioning how I was a noob in gaming, Benji hadn’t said anything, simply laughing along with them.
It shouldn’t have been a big deal, high school boys were just like that, I had told myself. But for some reason, Benji’s lack of response to the teasing and the lack of ride was weighing heavily on me. Was I just overreacting? After all, it wasn't like he had to give me a ride every day, or invite me to every party. And it’s not like he had to defend me for every little thing.
“Yeah, well I do have some homework for honors chem and AP language. I probably should work on my calculus homework too,” I rambled. “Besides I think I’ve had enough of smelly intoxicated football boys. You guys get so rowdy.”
He rolled his eyes. “We aren’t that bad. I limit myself unlike the entire tackle line.”
“I think Benji forgets that he’s on offense, not defense.”
“Yeah, he’s something else,” he joked.
“And somehow he’s never hungover for a game the next day, the lucky bastard.”
He hummed, switching some of the radio stations before turning it down, not liking any of the options. Despite it being a new car, and most likely a fresh license, Mason was a good driver, worlds better than Benji’s. I’d never say that though, Mason’s fragile ego would hold it over my head for years.
“Actually, can I ask you something?” He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “If it’s not too personal?”
I shrugged. “Go for it. As a journalist, nothing is ever too personal. Well, you know what I mean.”
“I...I heard rumors,” he started before stopping at the light. “About you. From around campus, even Connor and a couple guys on the team mentioned it during passing.”
I hummed, having an inkling of where this was going.
“They said that you like guys. That you’re gay,” he lowered his voice, like he was trying to keep it a secret, making me laugh. He gave an apologetic glance before adding, “Sorry if that’s too personal.”
“Nobody can hear you except for me, Mase. You don’t have to whisper,” I told him. “It’s not too personal, lots of people have asked me that since middle school.”
“Is it true, though? That you’re gay?”
“So what if I am?” I scoffed, jeering my thumb toward the road, his car travelling probably forty miles per hour. “Want me to get out?”
“No, no,” his response was quick. “I was just curious if it was true. Rumors can be quite nasty, especially if they’re false. I’ve gone through a fair share of them myself.”
“Well it’s no secret. I mean I am the vice president of the GSA club, plus I have this pin.” I gestured to my backpack, the rainbow flag sitting underneath the friendship bracelet. “My flask has a sticker of my favorite gay ship, and my phone widgets are my other ships. If that doesn’t scream ‘I’m gay,’ then I don’t know what does.”
He glanced at the pin before pulling up to my neighborhood. “So they all know? Benji and the team?”
I hummed, fiddling with the bracelet. “I don’t parade around the halls announcing it, but I won’t hide it either. That was middle school Ollie, and I hated that. I’m sure they’ve caught on by now, although Benji is quite dense. I’m not sure if he really knows or just thinks I’m some kind of obsessed ally and rights activist. As for the others, I’m fairly certain Connor knows, as well as Zane. They went to the same middle school as me and Benji.”
“Ah, I see.”
“No worries, football boys aren’t my type, you’re safe,” I joked, realizing that that was a blatant lie. “Well, not usually my type. I admit I’ve crushed on one, but I find most of them annoying, no offense.”
He smirked. “Ouch, I’m wounded.”
We laughed it off, a relief that his response hadn’t been one of malice or rejection. Even though I had only known Mason for a couple of weeks, it was nice to know that he didn't mind the gossiping and rumors circling behind me and my reputation.
We joked about Benji the rest of the way home, Mason having already memorized the route to our street like the back of his hand. My house was on the corner, while Benji’s was up the street, where the houses were newer and more expensive. We always joked about how living the length of a football field changed the price of the houses drastically.
“Well, let me know if you wanna come to the party later. I can pick you up,” Mason leaned over as I shut the door. I almost forgot about the party while talking to Mason about the silly quirks Benji had. One minute I was doubting Benji’s friendship over something so stupid, and the next I was telling Mason about things Benji did that irked me and the rest of the team.
“Yeah,” I peered into the window. “I might take you up on that offer.”
“I’ll text you. And I’ll scold Benji for not texting you too while I’m at it.”
I rolled my eyes before waving at him. “Yeah, tell him I had to wait ten minutes for my knight in shining armor to drive me home. I won’t put him on the front page of the school paper if you win this game Saturday. I’ll just take blurry shots of him and get good ones of you in it. Or worse, that JV player you all dislike.”
“Bet.”
“That’ll teach him.” My cheeks hurt from all this grinning. “Thanks for the ride, Mase.”
“I gotchu, Ollie.” He started the car. “If he ever forgets to give you a ride again, I gotchu.”
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