It's noon, and all Ross has done so far today is change his socks and check his phone. Every time he tries to do something, he gets distracted by the thought of Riker. He hasn't eaten, and tried to get dressed but only got so far as his feet before remembering the blonde hair, rosy cheeks, and coffee smell that are far more important than anything else.
It's been hours of this. Every replay of the previous night makes Ross more confused and excited. In an effort to sort himself out and focus on something else, something reciprocated, Ross pulls on his jacket and walks across the street to Ellie's.
"Hiiiiii!" Ellie's mother exclaims as soon as Ross opens the door. "How are you! Ellie's upstairs!"
Ross smiles, does the small talk while hanging up his coat, and climbs the stairs to Ellie's room. He likes Ellie's mom, but something about her fake enthusiasm and obsessive monitoring of both her home and Ellie's grades make him not her biggest fan.
Ellie's room is all white, save her large collection of books and a thriving aloe plant on a window sill. It's trendy to have minimal bedrooms, but Ellie hates it. She has to keep the walls white due to her mother's fear of paint fumes. It's a pretty small room, but Ellie and Ross never hang out in any other area of the house because they'll be constantly bothered by Ellie's mom.
"What's wrong?" Ellie asks in place of a hello.
"How do you always know?" Ross replies.
"You look different when you're going through something."
"Hm." Ross flops down onto Ellie's bed.
"So? What is it?" Ellie repeats, turning her desk chair so she can sit in it and face Ross.
"You know Riker? From school?" Ross starts.
"Yeah."
"And he volunteers at the Church Street Food Bank, like me?"
"Yeah, Ross, I know that, I'm your best friend, remember? We know each other?" Ellie teases.
"Okay," Ross says smiling, "well we've hung out a few times, and I want to hang out with him again, but I don't know how to ask if I can."
Ellie shakes her head, "Literally just open a text message and say 'what are you doing later?'. It's that easy. It's the same as when you wanna hang out with me."
"But it's not the same as when I hang out with you." Ross refutes.
A pause. Then -
"What's different about it? I'm your best friend, he's your new friend, we're all teenagers. Just text him. Social politics is not that confusing." Ellie attempts.
"Okay. Um. When I'm with Riker, it's not, uh, like I'm with you. It's different. I'm different."
"What do you mean you're different?"
"I get quiet... I don't know. It's different. It's harder than with you."
"Ross." Ellie whispers. Ross makes eye contact with her. "Do you like Riker in a different way than you like me?"
Ross drops his head onto Ellie's pillow so she can't see his face. He doesn't say anything. Ellie is equally quiet. After a few minutes, Ross mumbles a yes.
"Okay." Ellie replies, "I know you're super stressed about this and probably don't want to talk about it yet, but can I ask two questions?"
"Okay."
"Have you ever liked someone the way you like Riker? Do you think he likes you the way you like him?"
No answer comes from the small boy on the bed. If she had been able to see his face she would've seen one perfect, salty tear travel from Ross's cheek to her crisp white pillowcase.
