Alex Faulkner (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
videokilledme) wrote2018-06-24 02:48 am
videokilledme) wrote2018-06-24 02:48 am
“And The Rest Is (World) History.” Alex, Bianca. (Persona Dreamscape) - Chapter Thirteen
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"And The Rest Is (World) History." Alex, Bianca. (Persona Dreamscape) - Chapter Thirteen
[music]
The college volleyball season was over towards the end of November, and the NCAA Division I Women’s Volleyball tournament was held at the beginning of December. (Carrington did very well, the team got farther than they’d ever gotten before, but they were still knocked out in the semi-finals.) After that, Bianca’s schedule opened up considerably, though she still had practice once a day. Even so, by mid-December Bianca had taken to asking Alex to hang out after she was done with practice basically every other night. By the beginning of January, it had become so routine that she didn’t even have to ask, he’d just show up, generally with some kind of food or snacks. Bianca had been lucky enough to get a small single dorm room all to herself, so they hung out there, sometimes watching whatever looked good on Nextflik, but more often watching films of other volleyball teams, or recordings of Carrington’s old games. Bianca was generally pretty animated, but she really came alive then, eagerly explaining different facets of the game to Alex, who still felt pretty lost about most of it despite having seen a fair number of those games in person. Out of habit, he protested at least once every time they ended up watching one of her volleyball films that he didn’t ‘get’ sports; but despite that, he managed to point out a few strategic things here and there that Bianca otherwise might’ve missed.
They’d never gone over to Alex’s house, though Bianca had joked about it, but only once: something in the shuttered expression she found on his face when she looked over at him told her that he wasn’t at all comfortable with that idea, and for more than one reason. “Too bad, though. I kinda wanted to make you cook for me,” she quipped, earning a wan half-smile from Alex.
“I don’t know if that makes you more brave or stupid,” he’d answered with a shake of his head. “My cooking’s really nothing special. Especially compared to Joe, my stepdad, who Gordon Ramsay himself probably couldn’t find fault with ninety percent of the time.”
“Hey, at least you can cook, unlike...oh, probably ninety percent of the rest of the guys on this campus, who can hardly work a microwave without setting off the fire alarm in their dorm.” Alex had snorted in response, and subsequently learned that Bianca herself was passable in the kitchen, but still something of a cook-in-training, and it was her (mysterious, Benz-lending) godfather ‘Zico’ doing the teaching. “But hey, at least do I know how to work a microwave already!”
“Wooow, impressive,” Alex had deadpanned, earning himself a harder-than-usual swat on the arm that was still softened by Bianca’s laugh, and it had been impossible to keep the corners of his mouth from creeping upwards in a smile.
Alex had been relieved when his hyper-aware awkwardness faded quickly, and he found himself relaxing back into his usual way of acting around Bianca--not that his feelings for her had subsided in the least. While their constant hangouts had definitely helped him recover his former casual demeanor, it also felt like each time they spent an evening together, he came away from it having noticed some other tiny, previously insignificant-seeming fact or detail about her that made her even more wonderful and breathtaking and, always, heartbreakingly untouchable, as far beyond his reach as the moon itself.
Bianca didn’t act like that, though: she was always close and immediately, vibrantly present. She laughed and joked with him like they’d known each other for years, got annoyed at him over silly little things, and wasn’t afraid to cry openly over sad or touching parts in the movies and shows that they watched. She showed him part of everything she felt, every side of herself, without hiding anything or holding herself back, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be like that. She was genuine and real in a way that few other people were, and Alex, who held so much of himself back that several people over the years had asked him if he was actually a robot, couldn’t help admiring her for it, and opening up to her more than a little in response.
Still, while he enjoyed basically every minute he spent with Bianca, and while he knew on some level that it was good for him to be around someone like her, someone who could show him how to really let himself feel, Alex couldn’t help his deeply-held doubts about it all.
Why me, he wanted to ask every time she texted him to hang out, every time they settled in to watch something together, every time she surprised him with coffee or one of those little pre-packaged single-serving-sized ice creams she’d swiped from the cafeteria. You have so many other friends you could spend time with instead, and so many of them are probably funnier, smarter, cooler, nicer people. So why me? He’d very nearly blurted out that question on half a dozen occasions, but something had always held him back. (Fear, he knew; because the only thing what could be worse than her admitting that it was because she felt sorry for him and just didn’t want him to be alone was if she’d shrugged and carelessly said oh, no reason, really.)
Then one night during the first week of January, he finally got his answer without even asking the question. It was one of the few times he’d taken the initiative and asked Bianca to hang out. There had been meteor showers all that week, and that night was when it would’ve been brightest...and so, of course, it had gone cloudy that afternoon, and that evening the skies started spewing out sleet. Bianca hadn’t been able to stifle her laughter on finding his bedraggled, half-frozen figure dripping on the fluffy blue welcome mat outside her dorm room, inviting him in and insisting that he at least borrow a t-shirt and sweater since his own clothes were completely soaked. Alex wished he could’ve borrowed a pair of pants also--he was wearing his bunny skull print boxers today, and it felt more than a little weird to be sitting in a girl’s dorm room in his underwear, oversized sweater or no.
Bianca didn’t seem fazed by it in the least, however; she’d been casual about only half turning away while he peeled out of his wet shirt, not watching him change but not blushing or seeming the least bit bothered by the idea of him being even temporarily half-naked in her room either. Alex wasn’t sure how he felt about her lack of reaction, then was immediately annoyed at himself for caring about his feelings on the matter at all. Maybe she was more experienced in worldly things than he was (it would be hard for her to be less so), or maybe it was just because she had three brothers, or maybe it was something else entirely--years of that summer camp or playing on the boys’ soccer team or something. But what did it matter? It shouldn’t, and didn’t, have any bearing on their friendship. Just be glad that she’s comfortable enough to let you be in here like this, he told himself as he tugged at one leg of his suddenly very short-seeming boxers, and the knowledge of that trust went far in calming his misgivings about his current attire.
Since they couldn’t watch the actual meteor shower, they’d shared a bag of microwavable popcorn (“Showing off those elite cooking skills, I see.” “Heh, shut up, Alex!”) and watched a documentary about comets and asteroids instead; but when it was over and the usual time that Alex left for home rolled around, they found that the sleet was still coming down in icy torrents.
“You should just stay here,” Bianca said, her tone breezy and unconcerned, seemingly unmindful of the fact that they were sitting side by side on her bed, sharing a down comforter and leaning back against pillows propped against the wall, shoulder to shoulder, with him in his boxers and borrowed shirt and sweater, and with one of her knees carelessly bent and pressing against his bare outer thigh.
Alex, conversely, nearly choked on his mouthful of popcorn before managing a startled, “What?”
Bianca blinked over at him. “It is literally sleeting sideways out there right now, so why not? You can crash on the floor, I’ve got a futon mattress stashed away under my bed and loads of extra blankets, so you should be pretty comfortable.”
Alex was sure that comfortable wasn’t at all the word for what he’d be if he stayed there overnight, but a sideways glance at the appalling weather outside and his still-damp shirt and jeans hanging over the back of Bianca’s desk chair made his decision for him. “All right,” he said with a slow nod, deeply relieved that his voice came out steady and utterly calm, despite his inward desperation to not think about the fact that they’d be sleeping in the same room, that he’d be spending the whole night just a few feet away from the girl he was totally, hopelessly in love with. “Sounds good.”
While Bianca pulled out the futon and dug an extra comforter and a sleeping bag out of her closet, Alex took a few seconds to text Bill, letting him know that he was staying over at the dorms with a friend because of the terrible weather. Bill didn’t respond--he hated texting and only rarely sent Alex texts in the first place, and texting back was even more rare--but Alex wasn’t in the mood to actually talk with him, so he didn’t call. He’d sent the message, so the ball was in Bill’s court now, and if he missed it or didn’t check his phone, that wasn’t Alex’s fault (though he knew his father well enough to be aware that Bill might very well try to make it his fault).
He waited a few minutes more, wanting to be surprised, wanting to hope for any sort of reply, but one minute became two became five, and Alex knew that he wasn’t going to be surprised this time. With a roll of his eyes and a quietly-huffed sigh, he tossed his phone aside and reluctantly left the warmth of the comforter to help Bianca finish setting up the futon.
“This is kinda fun,” she said, grinning over at him as they worked together to get the blankets neatly laid out, and Alex tried not to let his heart flutter at the eager gleam in her eyes. “It’s like having a sleepover or something.”
Alex couldn’t help chuckling at that. “Yeah, well...I’m not gonna play ‘Truth or Dare’ with you, so don’t even ask.”
Bianca’s grin widened at that. “How about painting our nails?” she snickered, “or doing each other’s hair?”
“Definitely no to both. My nails are already painted, if you hadn’t noticed, and I don’t usually do much with my own hair other than dye it, dry it, and brush it. I wouldn’t even know where to begin with yours.” For all his easy smiling and seeming nonchalance, the idea of running his hands through those soft, silky blonde waves still took shape in Alex’s head, making him swallow hard and hurriedly add, “And I’m not a ‘refreshing face masks’ kinda guy, either, if you were curious.”
Bianca waved that off. “Nah, I figured. You don’t really seem like the type.”
Sensing some kind of trap or held-back verbal sucker punch, Alex raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so-”
“You seem way more like the mani/pedi type.”
Alex let out a sputter of not-quite-outraged disbelief, followed with an almost indignant, “I’ve never had either one of those things in my entire life!”
“Ooh, you’re missing out, then. How about body scrubs?”
“No!”
“Foot scrubs?”
“Bianca, what even.”
“What about a massage?”
Alex paused, all of his exasperation dropping away completely, instantly replaced by a considering smirk. “...Okay, now that one, I wouldn’t mind...” It was a bit of surprise to both of them when he turned that smirk more fully on Bianca and raised his eyebrows in a way that was very nearly outright flirty. “Depending on who’s doing the massaging, of course. Why, are you volunteering?”
Bianca gave a startled blink, and in the dim light Alex couldn’t see if he’d made her blush or not (a fact for which he was grateful), but he was quick to return them to familiar territory with an amused huff of laughter. “Pfft! You should’ve seen your face! Geez, I was just joking. Who do you think I am, Connor?”
The blonde gave him a playful little scowl that was half-pout, grabbing hold of the well-loved plush dolphin that always adorned her bed and swinging it at Alex’s midriff with deceptive force. “I dunno, sounds to me like a massage might do you some good,” she said with a laugh, though he almost thought she sounded a little miffed.
Must be because I teased her like that, he decided, grinning and giving a yelp of protest as he fended off a follow-up attack with the dolphin. Or, more likely, it’s just my imagination. He hadn’t actually meant to flirt, it had just sort of...happened. Still, he hadn’t been at all serious, and he was certain Bianca wouldn’t take it as such either. And if she did, and either didn’t like it or took offense, well. They were close enough friends by now that he was pretty sure she’d let him know.
“You’re forgetting the other thing that sleepovers are famous for,” Bianca said impishly, breaking into his thoughts. Alex gave her a wary, sidelong stare--then threw up his hands just a moment too late to protect himself from her attack as the blonde crowed (rather unnecessarily at that point), “Pillow fights!”
It was an almost completely one-sided battle, with Bianca walloping on him mercilessly with her pillow, while Alex tried in vain to block, evade, or otherwise escape the fluffy punishment. Even after he finally managed to grab the spare pillow off the futon, he only managed to take a few swings at her--she ripped it out of his hands effortlessly, then redoubled her attack, sending him diving for cover under the comforter. He did get in one really good shot with the abandoned dolphin plush (“Ooooh, right in the face! Fifty points for Alex Faulkner!”), but before long, he was laughing out a surrender.
“All right, all right, I give! Concede, concede!” Bianca gave him one more smack across the back, just for good measure, as Alex put on his best over-excited sports announcer voice: “Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like the Jackson Challenge has been expanded to pillow fights, and boy, does that boy know when he’s beaten! He might’ve gotten fifty points from that face-shot with the dolphin before, but that isn’t gonna be enough to keep him from the BIGGEST loss in the short but sweet history of this sport!”
Bianca gave a breathless laugh and dropped back onto the bed, raking her thoroughly-mussed hair back out of her face. “What the heck are you talking about?”
“Just immortalizing yet another win for sports prodigy Bianca Jackson!” Grinning, he pantomimed holding out a microphone towards her. “Is there anything you’d like to tell your vast legion of screaming fans?”
With a low snort, Bianca snatched up her pillow again, lobbing it directly at his face. “I never thought I’d say this to you, of all people, but sometimes you talk too much, Alex.”
Alex distractedly fended off that half-hearted assault, his wide grin shifting into an almost shy little smile. Finding it supremely difficult to meet those bright green eyes all of a sudden, he forced a quiet laugh in an attempt to cover the abrupt onset of awkwardness. “...Heh, you know, I think you’re the first person to ever say that to me.”
If he’d been looking, he’d’ve seen Bianca’s smile go a little softer. Resettling herself next to him on the bed, she gave his shoulder an amicable bump with her own. “Then I guess I’m honored that you actually want to talk so much when you’re around me.”
“Yeah, well...then I guess you should be. Or something.” He could feel his cheeks starting to go red, so he scrambled for something else to talk about, somewhere else to shift her attention and their whole conversation. “...But right now, there’s really only two words I wanna say.”
He turned a pointed, overly wistful look down on the empty popcorn bag that had fallen on the floor during their pillow fight, and the blonde followed his gaze easily. “ ‘More popcorn’? ” she guessed dryly, and Alex gave a solemn nod of confirmation.
“More popcorn.”
This time Alex took his turn making the popcorn (“There, now you can’t say I never cooked anything for you. It should be all right, though I’m not sure my microwaving skills are quite equal to yours-” “Alex!”), and once they’d topped off their (nonalcoholic) drinks also, they went looking for something else to watch on Nextflik. They eventually settled on Lockelave, a new series that they’d both heard was good, a very steampunk show about the adventures of a group of sky pirates, and before long, the popcorn was all but forgotten as they both got lost in the exciting rush of events, the interesting characters, and the minimal but well-done special effects.
The first episode was the pilot, and was twice the length of a regular episode, so it was well past midnight when the ending music played and the closing credits rolled. Bianca let her head fall back against the wall with a gentle bump and gave a long, drawn-out groan. “Ughhhh, it’s so goooood! I wanna keep watching, but if we do, I’m gonna miss at least half of it because I’m totally gonna crash on your shoulder.”
Alex’s heart did a flip-flop at the idea, but he just gave a shrug. “Eh, could be worse. You could be Connor.” Bianca gave a loud snicker at that, but Alex’s grin got a little wider as he held up a finger in a wait, I can one-up myself motion as he said, “Or, even worse than that, I could be Connor.”
Bianca almost choked on a laugh, then shook her head, still giggling as she said, “No way. I’d never invite him over to hang out like this--I know better. And I don’t think you’d ever agree to hang out with him like this either.”
“Definitely not, no.”
There was a brief lull in the conversation, which Bianca spent blinking owlishly at the computer screen, while Alex considered his options. It was warm and comfortable here, curled up almost-together with Bianca leaning her shoulder into his, and the show they were watching was really good. Most of all, being with Bianca like this was something that he didn’t want to end, so the temptation was there to simply...start another episode, and let whatever happened, happen. Only the way his stomach was tying itself in wildly creative knots over the idea of sharing a bed with her, however innocently, plus the fact that it was close to 2:00 a.m. and they both had class early tomorrow morning and could use a good night’s sleep kept him from doing it.
“All right,” he sighed, reaching out to close the laptop, plunging the room into near-darkness, save for the desk lamp, Bianca’s cutesy glow-in-the-dark ghost alarm clock, and the strip of searingly bright light seeping in under the door. “Time for bed.” After waiting a few seconds to let his eyes adjust, he started to shift away, extricating himself from both Bianca and the comforter--only to have her slump against him, leaning her weight even harder on his back, her head resting between his shoulder blades.
“ ‘M already in bed.”
Alex sighed again, fighting down the renewed urge to stay, and finished heaving himself up off the bed, the movement direct and meaningful. “Time for sleep.”
Bianca just gave a lethargic grumble at that, and let herself fall sideways on top of the warm spot he’d left on the bed. Shaking his head and giving a low exhale of amusement, Alex took the spare (unopened, of course) toothbrush Bianca had offered him earlier, snagged the toothpaste out of her bathroom caddy, and headed for the communal bathroom to go through what he could of his bedtime routine; on his return, he found that she still hadn’t moved.
“Aren’t you gonna at least go brush your teeth?”
Another lethargic grumble.
“Hate to say it, but that’s kinda gross. Remind me not to share my drinks with you any more.”
That earned him a one-eyed glare, along with having the plush dolphin thrown at him. She’d thrown it left-handed and without even looking (she’d buried her face back into the comforter), so she missed pretty badly; Alex didn’t even have to lean to the side to avoid getting hit.
“I’m just saying, you’re probably gonna regret it in the morning-”
“Nngh, all right, I’m goin’...”
Eyes still closed, she dragged herself out of the bed and stumbled out of the room; a few minutes later she was back, visibly more awake, and grabbed her bathroom caddy before vanishing again. Alex stretched out on his back on the futon while she was gone, staring up at the ceiling unseeingly and wondering what kind of terrible things he’d done to deserve this kind of punishment--or this kind of reward. It still felt strange, but it was only awkward if he over-thought it. He’d slept on the floor in his cousin Jess’s room just like this plenty of times (Bill had taken the guest room, and there was no way that Alex was staying in the same room as Duke or Trey), so this shouldn’t feel any different.
Except it totally, absolutely did.
Still, it was nothing to get worked up about, especially since Bianca was treating it like...well, probably like he was one of her younger brothers staying over for a visit. Alex hadn’t met any of them so far, but he’d heard plenty of stories about Caleb, Harper, and Skylar, and her younger sister Olivia, too.
Yeah...she’s treating me like a brother, for sure. The thought held a shade of chagrin, but then again, it wasn’t like Alex was planning on confessing to her...oh, ever, really, so what did that matter? At least this way he could be close to her without bringing any of those uncomfortable, unnecessary feelings into the equation.
“Sounds like excuses! That really means you’re too scared to ask her!” Drew’s childish, but not necessarily inaccurate words came to mind at that moment, and Alex aggressively flipped himself over onto his side. How could a five-year-old be so right about something like this? It was kind of infuriating, really...but that didn’t mean that Alex’s fear wasn’t a well-placed one.
Especially since she does treat me like a brother. He hadn’t done much flirting over the past few months, not even in jest, but on those rare occasions that he had, she’d responded with an almost bewildered sort of surprise, like she’d never expected him to say anything like that and didn’t know how to respond, which...wasn’t exactly encouraging.
Before he had time to think about the matter any further, Bianca was back, closing the door behind herself and putting away her bathroom caddy before literally falling into her bed again. Silence descended on the room, filling the air between them and pressing down like a weight on Alex’s chest, and when a few minutes had passed without any sound or movement from Bianca, not even to turn off the desk lamp, he finally broke it:
“It’s pretty cold tonight. Shouldn’t you be under the covers?” Pushing himself up on one elbow, he turned a smirk up at the other student, and found her shifting, raising her head just enough to turn a drowsy look down on him. “Do I need to tuck you in? You know I’ve got younger siblings, so I know how it’s done.”
That earned him a tired half-smile. “Heh. I can manage, thanks.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Very,” she chuckled, and Alex listened to the resulting rustle of fabric as she worked her way beneath all her blankets, snuggling down into bed for the night. Wordlessly he passed up her dolphin plush, which she took from him with a hum of gratitude, and since she was already comfortable, Alex took it on himself to turn out the desk light, leaving the room darker than ever.
“Well,” Alex said into the temporary pitch-black darkness that always followed the extinguishing of the last light, “Goodnight.” The futon was comfortable, as much or maybe even more so than his own bed, and with the sleeping bag, an extra comforter, and the throw blanket off her desk-chair, not to mention the borrowed sweater, Alex was pleasantly, cozily warm--warm enough that it was making him sleepy. Curling up on his side and clutching the covers close to his chest, he gave a soft exhale and let his eyes drift shut, ready to escape into sleep. He was very nearly there when Bianca, who he’d assumed was already asleep, spoke up.
“...Alex?”
It had been long enough that he could probably have gotten away with pretending to be asleep, and he was sorely tempted to do just that. But he was also curious about whatever it was that she wanted to tell him here and now, as they lay in the dark together. “Hmm?”
“I’m glad we’re friends.”
Alex wasn’t certain what he’d expected her to say, but that definitely wasn’t it. He huffed out a soft laugh, but he also didn’t try to hide how pleased he sounded as he answered back, “Yeah? I think my glad beats your glad.”
“I’m serious, Alex.”
Alex rolled over onto his other side, propping himself up on his elbow again to look up at her. By now the storm outside had died down enough that the illumination from the building’s outdoor security lights could at least partially cut through it, leaving the whole room awash in a dim, slightly-blue glow, so he could see her face pretty clearly as she sat up in bed. She wasn’t looking back at him, however; her own gaze was focused on her hands, which were resting in her lap atop all the blankets.
“I know I have a lot of friends here at school, and I really do like all of them. They’re a lot of fun, but...it’s different, spending time with you. I haven’t felt like I connected with anyone this well in a long time--not since I left my best friend back home in San Fran.”
Alex’s eyes widened with something like wonder as he looked up at her, or perhaps it was more like dawning realization. He’d known that Bianca was incredibly important to him for a while now--after how unhappy he’d been when they couldn’t see much of each other, it hadn’t been remotely possible to deny it. But he’d never stopped to consider that the reverse could be true, that he was outstandingly important to her as well.
“Avery, you mean?” he finally managed to say, asking a question in the hopes of getting her to talk more while he processed what she’d said without saying and then reorganized his mind and thoughts around it. Bianca had already told him a good amount about her best friend, Avery Grace: about how their parents were close friends, how they’d known each other since they were babies as a result, how they’d grown up together, gone to school and summer camp together, and basically been inseparable. About the various pranks they’d played on their siblings and other friends over the years, about how beautiful the other girl was, about her flawless eye for fashion, and the way she could get just about anyone to do what she wanted if she just smiled and batted her sky-blue eyes and asked nicely.
About how Avery had decided to stay in San Francisco area for college instead of coming to Carrington, and how it had felt like Bianca had been missing a part of herself those first few months of her freshman year.
“Yeah, Avery,” Bianca nodded, smiling in that warm, distracted way that meant her body might be here, but her thoughts and her mind were both thousands of miles away.
Alex let her go for a little while, content to let her drift through pleasant memories of a good friend, but after a while, he spoke up again. “...High praise, to be considered anywhere even close to the same level as a childhood friend. So...what about us is so alike? From what you’ve said about her, we sound pretty different.”
Bianca was already shaking her head even before Alex finished what he’d been saying. “It isn’t that. It’s not that you’re like Avery, exactly--you’re actually polar opposites for the most part. She loves crowds and attention, can be kinda loud and is really emotional, and she gets bored really easily, but she’s also just about the boldest, bravest person I’ve ever met. She’s always been about having fun and finding adventure, and gods help whoever hurts anyone she considers her friend.” Finally looking up from her hands, Bianca angled a heartfelt smile down at Alex, finally meeting his eyes with her own again. “You’re a little alike there, I think, that protectiveness. But really, it’s more like...well, at least part of it is that you’re always unapologetically yourself, the same way that Avery is always herself. You both do kind of put on a show, though she’s all about being flashy and interesting, and you’re about...about keeping people from getting too close.”
Alex had to drop his gaze briefly at that, though when he looked back up, he gave a small nod of agreement, because it was very true. He did like the punk style for its own merits, but...he couldn’t deny that he also liked the cautious, careful looks it sometimes got him, and his quiet, closed demeanor only reinforced that invisible wall that he placed between himself and the rest of the world.
“And as for the real reason that I feel so comfortable around you...who knows? Who really knows why some people’s personalities just seem to fit together? It’s just how it is. It’s how we are.”
That was an interesting concept for Alex, who’d spent months analyzing how and why he got along so well with Bianca, and had finally come to the conclusion that at least part of it was because their various social and personal values matched up where it was important, and because she reinforced all his (many, various) weak points. It didn’t hurt that she was a bright, intelligent, beautiful girl, either--it wasn’t hard for him to get along with smart people, with people who put some measure of thought into their words and actions instead of acting completely on impulse. We work together because we can work together, because we’re built to place weight on similar, or at least sympathetic, things.
“...Also,” she added in a low, affectionate murmur, “I think another reason we get along so well is because you do remind me of someone else I know. Someone who’s really important to me.”
It was then that Alex finally realized why she’d been so focused on her hands: she’d been twisting a silver skull ring around and around on her right pointer finger the whole time she’d been talking. Bianca had started wearing that ring after the Christmas holidays. Alex had noticed it immediately, mostly because it didn’t really fit with her sporty, casual-chic image, but he still thought it looked good on her--everything looked good on Bianca, somehow--though his opinion didn’t really matter either way. She made it work, and if she liked it and wanted to wear it, she could and should, and most of all certainly would.
Alex’s eyelids were feeling heavy enough by now that he didn’t really want to ask the obvious follow-up question there, and find out who, exactly, he reminded her of so much. If, as he suspected, whoever it was had given her that ring...well then, it would make sense for Alex to remind her of them; he had a fair amount of skull jewelry and clothing as well, so maybe it was mostly a style thing. Or maybe she didn’t mind his snark and low-key cynicism because whoever-it-was looked at the world the same way, through the same sort of wary, jaded eyes, and she was so used to dealing with that sardonic kind of personality that all of Alex’s standoffish skepticism just rolled right off her back.
“S’good to be important,” he found himself mumbling, clearly already half-asleep, and his sluggish brain considered, for a short half-second, baring his own soul to Bianca the way she’d just bared part of hers, and coming clean about his admiration and attraction and the maybe-kinda-totally-love feelings he’d developed for her at some point over the past few months…
But it was only for that short half-second; then reason stepped in again to point out that she’d just told him how glad she was that they were friends. Friends, not anything more, thankfully not anything less...and he was loath to ruin the pleasant, positive atmosphere with that kind of startling, unasked-for confession.
“Anyway, don’t be scared!” Drew’s admonishment rang through his head, but instead of inspiring him to go for it, it had the opposite effect. Because, while he couldn’t deny that there was a certain amount of fear that did enter into the equation, it wasn’t the biggest reason, or the deciding factor here.
“G’night, Alex,” Bianca yawned, blankets rustling and bed creaking as she resettled herself and found a comfortable new position. “Thanks for listening even though it’s super late, and...you know.”
Alex did know: he felt the exact duplicates of the words she’d left unspoken, the phrase she’d held in and held onto, huddling warmly in his chest himself: for being my friend.
“No problem. What are friends for?” Lying down and rolling back over in an attempt to recapture the exact warmth and satisfaction of his previous position, he softly added, “Goodnight, Bianca.”
Getting warm and comfortable again didn’t take long, but exhausted as he felt after all of this, sleep was still cursedly elusive for a time--long enough for him to hear Bianca’s breathing go slow and deep, and also long enough to let him consider his current position, as well as his current options regarding Bianca.
Friendship was good. It was comfortable and delightful and mentally stimulating, and she seemed to constantly push his limits, but never his boundaries. It was everything he needed, if not quite everything he wanted.
Romantic relationship was...no, it was too unknown, not enough data to project any sort of estimate or hypothesis about anything. And what would change, really? He’d still want all of the elements of friendship, none of that should be any different, so...what, then? Was he going to risk damaging, or even losing that friendship for the sake of...what, sex? Fleeting physical pleasure? The chance to be more intimate with her, to be a part of her, to hold her close and kiss her breathless and know every part of her--that aspect was enticing (and to be completely honest, so was the physical pleasure part, so long as it was her)--but it still wasn’t worth everything he stood to lose by proposing that kind of drastic shift to their current dynamic. The scales did not tip evenly, not nearly.
And yet...and yet, horribly cliché as it sounded, he’d never felt like this before. He’d been attracted to girls before, yes, but he’d never wanted someone like this, so much that it made something in his chest ache, every breath a painful reminder of these feelings that he hadn’t asked for, that he couldn’t control. It really was complicated...but then again, maybe it wasn’t.
After all, he wanted...but he also didn’t want. He yearned...but he didn’t need. He wished...but wishing alone had never changed anything, and was nothing but a waste of time.
...No, he finally decided, pressing his face into the pillow and breathing in deeply, incidentally drawing in the scent of Bianca, her room, and the laundry detergent she used. Telling her about this, admitting that I’m in love with her...it isn’t worth losing her. It wasn’t worth putting so much as a hairline fracture in her trust and regard for him. If she’d known how he felt, would she have shared her clothes and her comforter and cuddled up to him so warmly tonight? Would she have even offered her futon to him if she’d known about the decidedly non-platonic feelings mingling with the rest of the more familiar emotions dedicated to her, or would she have been too nervous about what he might do, too anxious that he’d get the wrong idea about it all? No, no no. Much better to take the safer path, the one that let them stay close, that kept them both happy.
Besides, if Bianca was content with things as they were, with him being not exactly a replacement for Avery, but more of a supplement, then what right did Alex have to upset the status quo?
And so, ultimately, it came down to this: he wanted her, yes. But he wanted for her to be happy even more. And what kind of friend would he be if he did something that he knew would make her unhappy?
Not a very good one, he thought grimly, and that thought was enough to seal the deal, and all but make his decision for him: friendship--just friendship--it was...though there wasn’t really any ‘just’ in this case, because even simple friendship with Bianca still felt too good to be true most days.
So long as she’s happy, was the last wispy, incomplete thought that spun through his mind before sleep finally claimed him for what remained of the night.
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"And The Rest Is (World) History." Alex, Bianca. (Persona Dreamscape) - Chapter Thirteen
[music]
The college volleyball season was over towards the end of November, and the NCAA Division I Women’s Volleyball tournament was held at the beginning of December. (Carrington did very well, the team got farther than they’d ever gotten before, but they were still knocked out in the semi-finals.) After that, Bianca’s schedule opened up considerably, though she still had practice once a day. Even so, by mid-December Bianca had taken to asking Alex to hang out after she was done with practice basically every other night. By the beginning of January, it had become so routine that she didn’t even have to ask, he’d just show up, generally with some kind of food or snacks. Bianca had been lucky enough to get a small single dorm room all to herself, so they hung out there, sometimes watching whatever looked good on Nextflik, but more often watching films of other volleyball teams, or recordings of Carrington’s old games. Bianca was generally pretty animated, but she really came alive then, eagerly explaining different facets of the game to Alex, who still felt pretty lost about most of it despite having seen a fair number of those games in person. Out of habit, he protested at least once every time they ended up watching one of her volleyball films that he didn’t ‘get’ sports; but despite that, he managed to point out a few strategic things here and there that Bianca otherwise might’ve missed.
They’d never gone over to Alex’s house, though Bianca had joked about it, but only once: something in the shuttered expression she found on his face when she looked over at him told her that he wasn’t at all comfortable with that idea, and for more than one reason. “Too bad, though. I kinda wanted to make you cook for me,” she quipped, earning a wan half-smile from Alex.
“I don’t know if that makes you more brave or stupid,” he’d answered with a shake of his head. “My cooking’s really nothing special. Especially compared to Joe, my stepdad, who Gordon Ramsay himself probably couldn’t find fault with ninety percent of the time.”
“Hey, at least you can cook, unlike...oh, probably ninety percent of the rest of the guys on this campus, who can hardly work a microwave without setting off the fire alarm in their dorm.” Alex had snorted in response, and subsequently learned that Bianca herself was passable in the kitchen, but still something of a cook-in-training, and it was her (mysterious, Benz-lending) godfather ‘Zico’ doing the teaching. “But hey, at least do I know how to work a microwave already!”
“Wooow, impressive,” Alex had deadpanned, earning himself a harder-than-usual swat on the arm that was still softened by Bianca’s laugh, and it had been impossible to keep the corners of his mouth from creeping upwards in a smile.
Alex had been relieved when his hyper-aware awkwardness faded quickly, and he found himself relaxing back into his usual way of acting around Bianca--not that his feelings for her had subsided in the least. While their constant hangouts had definitely helped him recover his former casual demeanor, it also felt like each time they spent an evening together, he came away from it having noticed some other tiny, previously insignificant-seeming fact or detail about her that made her even more wonderful and breathtaking and, always, heartbreakingly untouchable, as far beyond his reach as the moon itself.
Bianca didn’t act like that, though: she was always close and immediately, vibrantly present. She laughed and joked with him like they’d known each other for years, got annoyed at him over silly little things, and wasn’t afraid to cry openly over sad or touching parts in the movies and shows that they watched. She showed him part of everything she felt, every side of herself, without hiding anything or holding herself back, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be like that. She was genuine and real in a way that few other people were, and Alex, who held so much of himself back that several people over the years had asked him if he was actually a robot, couldn’t help admiring her for it, and opening up to her more than a little in response.
Still, while he enjoyed basically every minute he spent with Bianca, and while he knew on some level that it was good for him to be around someone like her, someone who could show him how to really let himself feel, Alex couldn’t help his deeply-held doubts about it all.
Why me, he wanted to ask every time she texted him to hang out, every time they settled in to watch something together, every time she surprised him with coffee or one of those little pre-packaged single-serving-sized ice creams she’d swiped from the cafeteria. You have so many other friends you could spend time with instead, and so many of them are probably funnier, smarter, cooler, nicer people. So why me? He’d very nearly blurted out that question on half a dozen occasions, but something had always held him back. (Fear, he knew; because the only thing what could be worse than her admitting that it was because she felt sorry for him and just didn’t want him to be alone was if she’d shrugged and carelessly said oh, no reason, really.)
Then one night during the first week of January, he finally got his answer without even asking the question. It was one of the few times he’d taken the initiative and asked Bianca to hang out. There had been meteor showers all that week, and that night was when it would’ve been brightest...and so, of course, it had gone cloudy that afternoon, and that evening the skies started spewing out sleet. Bianca hadn’t been able to stifle her laughter on finding his bedraggled, half-frozen figure dripping on the fluffy blue welcome mat outside her dorm room, inviting him in and insisting that he at least borrow a t-shirt and sweater since his own clothes were completely soaked. Alex wished he could’ve borrowed a pair of pants also--he was wearing his bunny skull print boxers today, and it felt more than a little weird to be sitting in a girl’s dorm room in his underwear, oversized sweater or no.
Bianca didn’t seem fazed by it in the least, however; she’d been casual about only half turning away while he peeled out of his wet shirt, not watching him change but not blushing or seeming the least bit bothered by the idea of him being even temporarily half-naked in her room either. Alex wasn’t sure how he felt about her lack of reaction, then was immediately annoyed at himself for caring about his feelings on the matter at all. Maybe she was more experienced in worldly things than he was (it would be hard for her to be less so), or maybe it was just because she had three brothers, or maybe it was something else entirely--years of that summer camp or playing on the boys’ soccer team or something. But what did it matter? It shouldn’t, and didn’t, have any bearing on their friendship. Just be glad that she’s comfortable enough to let you be in here like this, he told himself as he tugged at one leg of his suddenly very short-seeming boxers, and the knowledge of that trust went far in calming his misgivings about his current attire.
Since they couldn’t watch the actual meteor shower, they’d shared a bag of microwavable popcorn (“Showing off those elite cooking skills, I see.” “Heh, shut up, Alex!”) and watched a documentary about comets and asteroids instead; but when it was over and the usual time that Alex left for home rolled around, they found that the sleet was still coming down in icy torrents.
“You should just stay here,” Bianca said, her tone breezy and unconcerned, seemingly unmindful of the fact that they were sitting side by side on her bed, sharing a down comforter and leaning back against pillows propped against the wall, shoulder to shoulder, with him in his boxers and borrowed shirt and sweater, and with one of her knees carelessly bent and pressing against his bare outer thigh.
Alex, conversely, nearly choked on his mouthful of popcorn before managing a startled, “What?”
Bianca blinked over at him. “It is literally sleeting sideways out there right now, so why not? You can crash on the floor, I’ve got a futon mattress stashed away under my bed and loads of extra blankets, so you should be pretty comfortable.”
Alex was sure that comfortable wasn’t at all the word for what he’d be if he stayed there overnight, but a sideways glance at the appalling weather outside and his still-damp shirt and jeans hanging over the back of Bianca’s desk chair made his decision for him. “All right,” he said with a slow nod, deeply relieved that his voice came out steady and utterly calm, despite his inward desperation to not think about the fact that they’d be sleeping in the same room, that he’d be spending the whole night just a few feet away from the girl he was totally, hopelessly in love with. “Sounds good.”
While Bianca pulled out the futon and dug an extra comforter and a sleeping bag out of her closet, Alex took a few seconds to text Bill, letting him know that he was staying over at the dorms with a friend because of the terrible weather. Bill didn’t respond--he hated texting and only rarely sent Alex texts in the first place, and texting back was even more rare--but Alex wasn’t in the mood to actually talk with him, so he didn’t call. He’d sent the message, so the ball was in Bill’s court now, and if he missed it or didn’t check his phone, that wasn’t Alex’s fault (though he knew his father well enough to be aware that Bill might very well try to make it his fault).
He waited a few minutes more, wanting to be surprised, wanting to hope for any sort of reply, but one minute became two became five, and Alex knew that he wasn’t going to be surprised this time. With a roll of his eyes and a quietly-huffed sigh, he tossed his phone aside and reluctantly left the warmth of the comforter to help Bianca finish setting up the futon.
“This is kinda fun,” she said, grinning over at him as they worked together to get the blankets neatly laid out, and Alex tried not to let his heart flutter at the eager gleam in her eyes. “It’s like having a sleepover or something.”
Alex couldn’t help chuckling at that. “Yeah, well...I’m not gonna play ‘Truth or Dare’ with you, so don’t even ask.”
Bianca’s grin widened at that. “How about painting our nails?” she snickered, “or doing each other’s hair?”
“Definitely no to both. My nails are already painted, if you hadn’t noticed, and I don’t usually do much with my own hair other than dye it, dry it, and brush it. I wouldn’t even know where to begin with yours.” For all his easy smiling and seeming nonchalance, the idea of running his hands through those soft, silky blonde waves still took shape in Alex’s head, making him swallow hard and hurriedly add, “And I’m not a ‘refreshing face masks’ kinda guy, either, if you were curious.”
Bianca waved that off. “Nah, I figured. You don’t really seem like the type.”
Sensing some kind of trap or held-back verbal sucker punch, Alex raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so-”
“You seem way more like the mani/pedi type.”
Alex let out a sputter of not-quite-outraged disbelief, followed with an almost indignant, “I’ve never had either one of those things in my entire life!”
“Ooh, you’re missing out, then. How about body scrubs?”
“No!”
“Foot scrubs?”
“Bianca, what even.”
“What about a massage?”
Alex paused, all of his exasperation dropping away completely, instantly replaced by a considering smirk. “...Okay, now that one, I wouldn’t mind...” It was a bit of surprise to both of them when he turned that smirk more fully on Bianca and raised his eyebrows in a way that was very nearly outright flirty. “Depending on who’s doing the massaging, of course. Why, are you volunteering?”
Bianca gave a startled blink, and in the dim light Alex couldn’t see if he’d made her blush or not (a fact for which he was grateful), but he was quick to return them to familiar territory with an amused huff of laughter. “Pfft! You should’ve seen your face! Geez, I was just joking. Who do you think I am, Connor?”
The blonde gave him a playful little scowl that was half-pout, grabbing hold of the well-loved plush dolphin that always adorned her bed and swinging it at Alex’s midriff with deceptive force. “I dunno, sounds to me like a massage might do you some good,” she said with a laugh, though he almost thought she sounded a little miffed.
Must be because I teased her like that, he decided, grinning and giving a yelp of protest as he fended off a follow-up attack with the dolphin. Or, more likely, it’s just my imagination. He hadn’t actually meant to flirt, it had just sort of...happened. Still, he hadn’t been at all serious, and he was certain Bianca wouldn’t take it as such either. And if she did, and either didn’t like it or took offense, well. They were close enough friends by now that he was pretty sure she’d let him know.
“You’re forgetting the other thing that sleepovers are famous for,” Bianca said impishly, breaking into his thoughts. Alex gave her a wary, sidelong stare--then threw up his hands just a moment too late to protect himself from her attack as the blonde crowed (rather unnecessarily at that point), “Pillow fights!”
It was an almost completely one-sided battle, with Bianca walloping on him mercilessly with her pillow, while Alex tried in vain to block, evade, or otherwise escape the fluffy punishment. Even after he finally managed to grab the spare pillow off the futon, he only managed to take a few swings at her--she ripped it out of his hands effortlessly, then redoubled her attack, sending him diving for cover under the comforter. He did get in one really good shot with the abandoned dolphin plush (“Ooooh, right in the face! Fifty points for Alex Faulkner!”), but before long, he was laughing out a surrender.
“All right, all right, I give! Concede, concede!” Bianca gave him one more smack across the back, just for good measure, as Alex put on his best over-excited sports announcer voice: “Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like the Jackson Challenge has been expanded to pillow fights, and boy, does that boy know when he’s beaten! He might’ve gotten fifty points from that face-shot with the dolphin before, but that isn’t gonna be enough to keep him from the BIGGEST loss in the short but sweet history of this sport!”
Bianca gave a breathless laugh and dropped back onto the bed, raking her thoroughly-mussed hair back out of her face. “What the heck are you talking about?”
“Just immortalizing yet another win for sports prodigy Bianca Jackson!” Grinning, he pantomimed holding out a microphone towards her. “Is there anything you’d like to tell your vast legion of screaming fans?”
With a low snort, Bianca snatched up her pillow again, lobbing it directly at his face. “I never thought I’d say this to you, of all people, but sometimes you talk too much, Alex.”
Alex distractedly fended off that half-hearted assault, his wide grin shifting into an almost shy little smile. Finding it supremely difficult to meet those bright green eyes all of a sudden, he forced a quiet laugh in an attempt to cover the abrupt onset of awkwardness. “...Heh, you know, I think you’re the first person to ever say that to me.”
If he’d been looking, he’d’ve seen Bianca’s smile go a little softer. Resettling herself next to him on the bed, she gave his shoulder an amicable bump with her own. “Then I guess I’m honored that you actually want to talk so much when you’re around me.”
“Yeah, well...then I guess you should be. Or something.” He could feel his cheeks starting to go red, so he scrambled for something else to talk about, somewhere else to shift her attention and their whole conversation. “...But right now, there’s really only two words I wanna say.”
He turned a pointed, overly wistful look down on the empty popcorn bag that had fallen on the floor during their pillow fight, and the blonde followed his gaze easily. “ ‘More popcorn’? ” she guessed dryly, and Alex gave a solemn nod of confirmation.
“More popcorn.”
This time Alex took his turn making the popcorn (“There, now you can’t say I never cooked anything for you. It should be all right, though I’m not sure my microwaving skills are quite equal to yours-” “Alex!”), and once they’d topped off their (nonalcoholic) drinks also, they went looking for something else to watch on Nextflik. They eventually settled on Lockelave, a new series that they’d both heard was good, a very steampunk show about the adventures of a group of sky pirates, and before long, the popcorn was all but forgotten as they both got lost in the exciting rush of events, the interesting characters, and the minimal but well-done special effects.
The first episode was the pilot, and was twice the length of a regular episode, so it was well past midnight when the ending music played and the closing credits rolled. Bianca let her head fall back against the wall with a gentle bump and gave a long, drawn-out groan. “Ughhhh, it’s so goooood! I wanna keep watching, but if we do, I’m gonna miss at least half of it because I’m totally gonna crash on your shoulder.”
Alex’s heart did a flip-flop at the idea, but he just gave a shrug. “Eh, could be worse. You could be Connor.” Bianca gave a loud snicker at that, but Alex’s grin got a little wider as he held up a finger in a wait, I can one-up myself motion as he said, “Or, even worse than that, I could be Connor.”
Bianca almost choked on a laugh, then shook her head, still giggling as she said, “No way. I’d never invite him over to hang out like this--I know better. And I don’t think you’d ever agree to hang out with him like this either.”
“Definitely not, no.”
There was a brief lull in the conversation, which Bianca spent blinking owlishly at the computer screen, while Alex considered his options. It was warm and comfortable here, curled up almost-together with Bianca leaning her shoulder into his, and the show they were watching was really good. Most of all, being with Bianca like this was something that he didn’t want to end, so the temptation was there to simply...start another episode, and let whatever happened, happen. Only the way his stomach was tying itself in wildly creative knots over the idea of sharing a bed with her, however innocently, plus the fact that it was close to 2:00 a.m. and they both had class early tomorrow morning and could use a good night’s sleep kept him from doing it.
“All right,” he sighed, reaching out to close the laptop, plunging the room into near-darkness, save for the desk lamp, Bianca’s cutesy glow-in-the-dark ghost alarm clock, and the strip of searingly bright light seeping in under the door. “Time for bed.” After waiting a few seconds to let his eyes adjust, he started to shift away, extricating himself from both Bianca and the comforter--only to have her slump against him, leaning her weight even harder on his back, her head resting between his shoulder blades.
“ ‘M already in bed.”
Alex sighed again, fighting down the renewed urge to stay, and finished heaving himself up off the bed, the movement direct and meaningful. “Time for sleep.”
Bianca just gave a lethargic grumble at that, and let herself fall sideways on top of the warm spot he’d left on the bed. Shaking his head and giving a low exhale of amusement, Alex took the spare (unopened, of course) toothbrush Bianca had offered him earlier, snagged the toothpaste out of her bathroom caddy, and headed for the communal bathroom to go through what he could of his bedtime routine; on his return, he found that she still hadn’t moved.
“Aren’t you gonna at least go brush your teeth?”
Another lethargic grumble.
“Hate to say it, but that’s kinda gross. Remind me not to share my drinks with you any more.”
That earned him a one-eyed glare, along with having the plush dolphin thrown at him. She’d thrown it left-handed and without even looking (she’d buried her face back into the comforter), so she missed pretty badly; Alex didn’t even have to lean to the side to avoid getting hit.
“I’m just saying, you’re probably gonna regret it in the morning-”
“Nngh, all right, I’m goin’...”
Eyes still closed, she dragged herself out of the bed and stumbled out of the room; a few minutes later she was back, visibly more awake, and grabbed her bathroom caddy before vanishing again. Alex stretched out on his back on the futon while she was gone, staring up at the ceiling unseeingly and wondering what kind of terrible things he’d done to deserve this kind of punishment--or this kind of reward. It still felt strange, but it was only awkward if he over-thought it. He’d slept on the floor in his cousin Jess’s room just like this plenty of times (Bill had taken the guest room, and there was no way that Alex was staying in the same room as Duke or Trey), so this shouldn’t feel any different.
Except it totally, absolutely did.
Still, it was nothing to get worked up about, especially since Bianca was treating it like...well, probably like he was one of her younger brothers staying over for a visit. Alex hadn’t met any of them so far, but he’d heard plenty of stories about Caleb, Harper, and Skylar, and her younger sister Olivia, too.
Yeah...she’s treating me like a brother, for sure. The thought held a shade of chagrin, but then again, it wasn’t like Alex was planning on confessing to her...oh, ever, really, so what did that matter? At least this way he could be close to her without bringing any of those uncomfortable, unnecessary feelings into the equation.
“Sounds like excuses! That really means you’re too scared to ask her!” Drew’s childish, but not necessarily inaccurate words came to mind at that moment, and Alex aggressively flipped himself over onto his side. How could a five-year-old be so right about something like this? It was kind of infuriating, really...but that didn’t mean that Alex’s fear wasn’t a well-placed one.
Especially since she does treat me like a brother. He hadn’t done much flirting over the past few months, not even in jest, but on those rare occasions that he had, she’d responded with an almost bewildered sort of surprise, like she’d never expected him to say anything like that and didn’t know how to respond, which...wasn’t exactly encouraging.
Before he had time to think about the matter any further, Bianca was back, closing the door behind herself and putting away her bathroom caddy before literally falling into her bed again. Silence descended on the room, filling the air between them and pressing down like a weight on Alex’s chest, and when a few minutes had passed without any sound or movement from Bianca, not even to turn off the desk lamp, he finally broke it:
“It’s pretty cold tonight. Shouldn’t you be under the covers?” Pushing himself up on one elbow, he turned a smirk up at the other student, and found her shifting, raising her head just enough to turn a drowsy look down on him. “Do I need to tuck you in? You know I’ve got younger siblings, so I know how it’s done.”
That earned him a tired half-smile. “Heh. I can manage, thanks.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Very,” she chuckled, and Alex listened to the resulting rustle of fabric as she worked her way beneath all her blankets, snuggling down into bed for the night. Wordlessly he passed up her dolphin plush, which she took from him with a hum of gratitude, and since she was already comfortable, Alex took it on himself to turn out the desk light, leaving the room darker than ever.
“Well,” Alex said into the temporary pitch-black darkness that always followed the extinguishing of the last light, “Goodnight.” The futon was comfortable, as much or maybe even more so than his own bed, and with the sleeping bag, an extra comforter, and the throw blanket off her desk-chair, not to mention the borrowed sweater, Alex was pleasantly, cozily warm--warm enough that it was making him sleepy. Curling up on his side and clutching the covers close to his chest, he gave a soft exhale and let his eyes drift shut, ready to escape into sleep. He was very nearly there when Bianca, who he’d assumed was already asleep, spoke up.
“...Alex?”
It had been long enough that he could probably have gotten away with pretending to be asleep, and he was sorely tempted to do just that. But he was also curious about whatever it was that she wanted to tell him here and now, as they lay in the dark together. “Hmm?”
“I’m glad we’re friends.”
Alex wasn’t certain what he’d expected her to say, but that definitely wasn’t it. He huffed out a soft laugh, but he also didn’t try to hide how pleased he sounded as he answered back, “Yeah? I think my glad beats your glad.”
“I’m serious, Alex.”
Alex rolled over onto his other side, propping himself up on his elbow again to look up at her. By now the storm outside had died down enough that the illumination from the building’s outdoor security lights could at least partially cut through it, leaving the whole room awash in a dim, slightly-blue glow, so he could see her face pretty clearly as she sat up in bed. She wasn’t looking back at him, however; her own gaze was focused on her hands, which were resting in her lap atop all the blankets.
“I know I have a lot of friends here at school, and I really do like all of them. They’re a lot of fun, but...it’s different, spending time with you. I haven’t felt like I connected with anyone this well in a long time--not since I left my best friend back home in San Fran.”
Alex’s eyes widened with something like wonder as he looked up at her, or perhaps it was more like dawning realization. He’d known that Bianca was incredibly important to him for a while now--after how unhappy he’d been when they couldn’t see much of each other, it hadn’t been remotely possible to deny it. But he’d never stopped to consider that the reverse could be true, that he was outstandingly important to her as well.
“Avery, you mean?” he finally managed to say, asking a question in the hopes of getting her to talk more while he processed what she’d said without saying and then reorganized his mind and thoughts around it. Bianca had already told him a good amount about her best friend, Avery Grace: about how their parents were close friends, how they’d known each other since they were babies as a result, how they’d grown up together, gone to school and summer camp together, and basically been inseparable. About the various pranks they’d played on their siblings and other friends over the years, about how beautiful the other girl was, about her flawless eye for fashion, and the way she could get just about anyone to do what she wanted if she just smiled and batted her sky-blue eyes and asked nicely.
About how Avery had decided to stay in San Francisco area for college instead of coming to Carrington, and how it had felt like Bianca had been missing a part of herself those first few months of her freshman year.
“Yeah, Avery,” Bianca nodded, smiling in that warm, distracted way that meant her body might be here, but her thoughts and her mind were both thousands of miles away.
Alex let her go for a little while, content to let her drift through pleasant memories of a good friend, but after a while, he spoke up again. “...High praise, to be considered anywhere even close to the same level as a childhood friend. So...what about us is so alike? From what you’ve said about her, we sound pretty different.”
Bianca was already shaking her head even before Alex finished what he’d been saying. “It isn’t that. It’s not that you’re like Avery, exactly--you’re actually polar opposites for the most part. She loves crowds and attention, can be kinda loud and is really emotional, and she gets bored really easily, but she’s also just about the boldest, bravest person I’ve ever met. She’s always been about having fun and finding adventure, and gods help whoever hurts anyone she considers her friend.” Finally looking up from her hands, Bianca angled a heartfelt smile down at Alex, finally meeting his eyes with her own again. “You’re a little alike there, I think, that protectiveness. But really, it’s more like...well, at least part of it is that you’re always unapologetically yourself, the same way that Avery is always herself. You both do kind of put on a show, though she’s all about being flashy and interesting, and you’re about...about keeping people from getting too close.”
Alex had to drop his gaze briefly at that, though when he looked back up, he gave a small nod of agreement, because it was very true. He did like the punk style for its own merits, but...he couldn’t deny that he also liked the cautious, careful looks it sometimes got him, and his quiet, closed demeanor only reinforced that invisible wall that he placed between himself and the rest of the world.
“And as for the real reason that I feel so comfortable around you...who knows? Who really knows why some people’s personalities just seem to fit together? It’s just how it is. It’s how we are.”
That was an interesting concept for Alex, who’d spent months analyzing how and why he got along so well with Bianca, and had finally come to the conclusion that at least part of it was because their various social and personal values matched up where it was important, and because she reinforced all his (many, various) weak points. It didn’t hurt that she was a bright, intelligent, beautiful girl, either--it wasn’t hard for him to get along with smart people, with people who put some measure of thought into their words and actions instead of acting completely on impulse. We work together because we can work together, because we’re built to place weight on similar, or at least sympathetic, things.
“...Also,” she added in a low, affectionate murmur, “I think another reason we get along so well is because you do remind me of someone else I know. Someone who’s really important to me.”
It was then that Alex finally realized why she’d been so focused on her hands: she’d been twisting a silver skull ring around and around on her right pointer finger the whole time she’d been talking. Bianca had started wearing that ring after the Christmas holidays. Alex had noticed it immediately, mostly because it didn’t really fit with her sporty, casual-chic image, but he still thought it looked good on her--everything looked good on Bianca, somehow--though his opinion didn’t really matter either way. She made it work, and if she liked it and wanted to wear it, she could and should, and most of all certainly would.
Alex’s eyelids were feeling heavy enough by now that he didn’t really want to ask the obvious follow-up question there, and find out who, exactly, he reminded her of so much. If, as he suspected, whoever it was had given her that ring...well then, it would make sense for Alex to remind her of them; he had a fair amount of skull jewelry and clothing as well, so maybe it was mostly a style thing. Or maybe she didn’t mind his snark and low-key cynicism because whoever-it-was looked at the world the same way, through the same sort of wary, jaded eyes, and she was so used to dealing with that sardonic kind of personality that all of Alex’s standoffish skepticism just rolled right off her back.
“S’good to be important,” he found himself mumbling, clearly already half-asleep, and his sluggish brain considered, for a short half-second, baring his own soul to Bianca the way she’d just bared part of hers, and coming clean about his admiration and attraction and the maybe-kinda-totally-love feelings he’d developed for her at some point over the past few months…
But it was only for that short half-second; then reason stepped in again to point out that she’d just told him how glad she was that they were friends. Friends, not anything more, thankfully not anything less...and he was loath to ruin the pleasant, positive atmosphere with that kind of startling, unasked-for confession.
“Anyway, don’t be scared!” Drew’s admonishment rang through his head, but instead of inspiring him to go for it, it had the opposite effect. Because, while he couldn’t deny that there was a certain amount of fear that did enter into the equation, it wasn’t the biggest reason, or the deciding factor here.
“G’night, Alex,” Bianca yawned, blankets rustling and bed creaking as she resettled herself and found a comfortable new position. “Thanks for listening even though it’s super late, and...you know.”
Alex did know: he felt the exact duplicates of the words she’d left unspoken, the phrase she’d held in and held onto, huddling warmly in his chest himself: for being my friend.
“No problem. What are friends for?” Lying down and rolling back over in an attempt to recapture the exact warmth and satisfaction of his previous position, he softly added, “Goodnight, Bianca.”
Getting warm and comfortable again didn’t take long, but exhausted as he felt after all of this, sleep was still cursedly elusive for a time--long enough for him to hear Bianca’s breathing go slow and deep, and also long enough to let him consider his current position, as well as his current options regarding Bianca.
Friendship was good. It was comfortable and delightful and mentally stimulating, and she seemed to constantly push his limits, but never his boundaries. It was everything he needed, if not quite everything he wanted.
Romantic relationship was...no, it was too unknown, not enough data to project any sort of estimate or hypothesis about anything. And what would change, really? He’d still want all of the elements of friendship, none of that should be any different, so...what, then? Was he going to risk damaging, or even losing that friendship for the sake of...what, sex? Fleeting physical pleasure? The chance to be more intimate with her, to be a part of her, to hold her close and kiss her breathless and know every part of her--that aspect was enticing (and to be completely honest, so was the physical pleasure part, so long as it was her)--but it still wasn’t worth everything he stood to lose by proposing that kind of drastic shift to their current dynamic. The scales did not tip evenly, not nearly.
And yet...and yet, horribly cliché as it sounded, he’d never felt like this before. He’d been attracted to girls before, yes, but he’d never wanted someone like this, so much that it made something in his chest ache, every breath a painful reminder of these feelings that he hadn’t asked for, that he couldn’t control. It really was complicated...but then again, maybe it wasn’t.
After all, he wanted...but he also didn’t want. He yearned...but he didn’t need. He wished...but wishing alone had never changed anything, and was nothing but a waste of time.
...No, he finally decided, pressing his face into the pillow and breathing in deeply, incidentally drawing in the scent of Bianca, her room, and the laundry detergent she used. Telling her about this, admitting that I’m in love with her...it isn’t worth losing her. It wasn’t worth putting so much as a hairline fracture in her trust and regard for him. If she’d known how he felt, would she have shared her clothes and her comforter and cuddled up to him so warmly tonight? Would she have even offered her futon to him if she’d known about the decidedly non-platonic feelings mingling with the rest of the more familiar emotions dedicated to her, or would she have been too nervous about what he might do, too anxious that he’d get the wrong idea about it all? No, no no. Much better to take the safer path, the one that let them stay close, that kept them both happy.
Besides, if Bianca was content with things as they were, with him being not exactly a replacement for Avery, but more of a supplement, then what right did Alex have to upset the status quo?
And so, ultimately, it came down to this: he wanted her, yes. But he wanted for her to be happy even more. And what kind of friend would he be if he did something that he knew would make her unhappy?
Not a very good one, he thought grimly, and that thought was enough to seal the deal, and all but make his decision for him: friendship--just friendship--it was...though there wasn’t really any ‘just’ in this case, because even simple friendship with Bianca still felt too good to be true most days.
So long as she’s happy, was the last wispy, incomplete thought that spun through his mind before sleep finally claimed him for what remained of the night.
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