Lovebirds

OH SH-

When he drops too heavily into a wooden chair somewhere in the corner of the library— away from all the windows that look out to the hall—the librarian has to glare at him, pointer finger placed before her lips. Vincent raises a hand in silent apology.

"What happened to the pictures?" Dion's voice kept low.

"Plans changed," Vince whispers back, pulling the pages from his backpack; a little crumpled now, but they'll get the job done.

Dion pulls a pen from his own bag, clicking it open before claiming one of the pages.

"Do you have a list of the timestamps?" He asks, eyes not leaving his chosen paper: Hugo's schedule.

Vincent pulls a sticky note somewhere from the void of papers in his bag. It's wrinkled too, strip of stickiness full of gunk and Dion makes a show of smoothing it out on the table. He doesn't approve of Vincent's organizational habits and has mentioned as much before. Vincent chooses to just give him a look.

Setting pen to page, Dion begins to analyze the schedule's time table with the focus of a team captain.

"Somewhat unrelated," Vince begins, looking over the attendance sheet with a highlighter, "but how have things with Felicity been?"

"Good," Dion states, focus unwavering.

Vincent goes back to his sheet, nodding.

The red second hand ticks three times.

"Okay, is that all I'm going to get?"

Vincent doesn't miss Dion's little smirk.

"She had dinner with my family last weekend."

Vincent's brows shoot up to his hairline. "I'm sorry—and you chose not to mention this why?"

"Because of this," waving a hand between the three bits of paper spread between them.

"Okay, fair... But this is you and Felicity Glass. It's important. And, if anything, it's exactly what I need to hear about; recharge the 'ol romantic battery, y'know?"

"No."

Vincent lets the highlighter tap the table with disbelief a little too loudly and the librarian comes over to remind them of the quiet policy. Either they adhere to it or have to find somewhere else to work. Both boys apologize.

"So," moving on, "how'd it go?"

"Great."

Scoffing, "you're impossible."

Dion smirks, noting a problematic schedule timing. Reluctantly, Vincent goes back to highlighting. Not that there's much to note; Hugo's been surprisingly present. The way their friend carries himself, they'd (privately) assumed he'd cut class with other friends. But in the past month, Hugo's only been tardy for one. And it doesn't fit the date of the tapes.

But on the flip side, if he is the Instagram hacker, changing an attendance sheet is comparatively simple.

"Find anything?" Vincent asks, putting his head in his palm, elbow upon the tabletop.

Dion says nothing. And yet... the lines on his focused face deepen twofold; creasing with further concentration from a job proven fruitful.

"What are you guys doing in here?" sh—

That voice. They know that voice—oh shi—

"Hugo—I thought you were doing college applications this period?"

Dion inconspicuously flattens his hands, pen still between fingers, upon the paper he'd been annotating. Vincent adjusts his elbow and forearm to cover most of his own page and as much of the sticky note as possible.

"I was..." Hugo slowly says, settling cautiously into a chair across from them. "But I finished. What are you guys up to?"

"Homework," in harmony.

"Right."

Vincent looks at Dion, face riddled with guilt, but the hockey captain is still the picture of composure.

"You look a little nervous for homework," Hugo notes of Vince.

Dion finally looks over. "It's because we're writing a letter to Spencer—"

"—No!" Vince jumps. He'd expected a different admission with the look of relinquishment Dion's face had suddenly fallen to. Dang. This man should go for the school play.

Hugo smirks, scooting his chair in closer. "You romantic fool. Can I read it?"

"No—no," Vincent reaching for Dion's sheet before the latter gets any more ideas about playing the scene; he'd already been lifting his forearms to hand over the paper—what the hell is he thinking!?

"Man, you've got it bad. Remind me again why you guys broke up?"

"Um," looking at his hands; at the papers beneath them. Specifically at Dion's accurate annotations of the schedule. Oh my goodness. "She..." Vince begins. But he can't go any further. His eyes stay locked on the schedule.

The timetables match.

It's possible for Hugo to be the hacker.

Sh—

"Spencer didn't want to be official," Dion states. "And things are going well with Felicity," he adds as Hugo's eyes flicker with the spark of a second question.

"You know me too well," grinning devilishly. His eyes shift back to Vincent, following his gaze down to the forearms that hide the "note."

The bell rings. Vincent's woken from his fixation with the paper, inhaling deeply all the breaths he'd halted taking in his shocked state.

"Where to?" He asks his friends, quickly shoving all the papers back in his backpack.

"Jeez dude, you need to get some folders. You're bag looks like the basket of a paper shredder."

"I'd like to know more about your sister's coding class," Dion grabbing Hugo by the shoulder to lead him out the library doors. "My brother is thinking..." Then they're lost to the humm of the hallway.

Vincent collapses onto the floor beside his backpack. Puts his head in his hands, trying to process this new bit of information—Hugo, what have you done?

On instinct, he pulls his phone from is back pocket to text Spence. She'll want to know when she wakes up.

One new message from Hugo.

Dude, read Spencer's email. She said she sent you something like a week ago and you haven't seen it yet.

He couldn't have talked with Spencer.

Vincent opens his emails nonetheless, searching Spencer's name in the search bar, and sure enough.

Spencer sent you their results! 

Five Love Languages Test Results: Get Yours Now!!

He leans back against the leg of the table. Stares at the message a little longer. Eyes the purple button.

Stares a little longer.

Presses his lips together.

Presses 'view results.'