16. BEFORE
"You brilliant idiot!"
"Isn't that an oxymoron?" Adam yelped in surprise as Matt, with an overjoyed cry, lunged at him, throwing his arms around his neck and roughly kissing the top of the distinctly ruffled blonde's head.
From somewhere inside the bustling classroom, Adam heard a loud cough that seemed too forced to be true and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It wasn't his fault that Oliver still failed to understand, even after repeated reassurances, that Adam and Matt were only friends, that it could never be like that between them.
Pointedly ignoring Oliver's little hint, Adam proceeded to extract himself from Matt's grip. "Alright, calm down," he muttered with a small chuckle.
"I am so proud of you," Matt replied and it was the sincerity with which he said it that made Adam look back at his friend, his eyes glowing with warmth. Matt blinked back at him as though he'd just quite suddenly snapped out of a trance and stepped back awkwardly, tilting his head to the side, as though he desperately wanted to avoid eye-contact.
"Gee, thanks, mum," Adam joked and he watched Matt's tense shoulders sag back with something akin to relief. They both let out a laugh and, with that, the sudden awkwardness seemed to vanish almost instantly.
It was after the death of his father, and the events after it, that Adam had realized Matt didn't do comfort – at least, not the conventional sort – or emotions. He seemed to want to run away at the slightest hint of vulnerability. But, along the years, Matt had begun to improve this, as evident from his rare displays of affection, but he always managed to retreat back into his shell, shy and embarrassed at his own ability to feel. It had frustrated Adam at first but he, like Matt, had done a fair bit of growing up too. And he'd learnt on his own; You can't change the way people are, you just adapt to them and let them do the changing for themselves. That's what love is, after all.
"You are going to nail your English GCSE," Matt exclaimed, bringing Adam out of his thoughts. He looked down at the test paper in his hands and smiled at the big, beautiful 'A' scrawled at the very top. Adam blew out a sigh.
"I – I hope so," he replied unsurely. He couldn't have his hopes raised so easily over one small test and this had been the first A he had ever received in English. Their final exam was in May, which was only three months away. Although he had vastly improved his literacy skills, all thanks to Matt, Adam couldn't help but feel the familiar knot of anxiety that tightened his stomach.
"Hope so?" Matt scoffed. "I expect nothing less than Shakespeare from you at this point, Fernandes."
"Talk about no pressure," Adam chuckled.
"You got that right." Matt stood up and dusted his hands together. "Right, so we're on for another revision session tonight, yeah? I was thinking we should focus on To Kill a Mockingbird tonight because you're still a bit shaky on all the character—"
"Er, Matt." Adam coughed. "I, er, have to be somewhere tonight. I'm sorry," he added, noticing the frown that settled on Matt's face. "I know I'm supposed to let you know ahead of time and all but it, er, it kind of came up suddenly."
"Well, where d' you have to be?" Matt asked rather gruffly.
"Mum and I, um," Adam spoke quickly, "we have – er – an event to go to."
"Event?"
"Yeah, um, yeah."
Well it wasn't technically untrue. Adam hated lying to Matt more than to his mother, or anybody else. But what could he say, really? That he was gay and had been since the moment he set eyes on Oliver – the Oliver that Matt despised the very thought of? He just couldn't see that as a conversation that could go down very well at all. He would tell him, though. He would. Just not anytime soon.
"Are you okay, mate?"
Adam's eyes focused back on Matt, who was giving him a look that was mixture of worry and suspicion, and he gave an unconvincing nod.
"Yeah." He rolled his eyes at him. "Never better."
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"So," Adam spoke, holding his English book in his hands, "Maycomb society is essentially just a representation of what society in America, particularly in the Deep South, was like back in the 30s. Racism also seemed to be—" He stopped talking when he noticed Oliver was staring at the floor beneath them, his hands balled into tight little fists.
"You're not even paying attention," Adam snapped angrily to which Oliver responded with a shrug. "You know," he shut his book angrily, "I'm starting to wonder if ditching revision with Matt just to be with you is really worth my time anymore."
"Oh yeah," Oliver drawled sarcastically. "He's loads more fun, isn't he? Probably a better kisser too, I bet."
"Wow." Adam groaned into his hands. "Is this about what happened at school today?"
"Ding ding ding." Oliver sneered. "And we have a winner."
"You're such a child." Adam got up roughly, pulling his school bag with him. "I'm out of here."
"Running away again, are we?" Oliver responded, not moving from his spot. "I haven't talked to you properly in weeks because you keep disappearing to god knows where. Here I am, worried sick about you because you've been acting like a right twat while you're off fucking your—"
"You don't know anything," Adam spat back and Oliver's stomach dropped painfully when he saw something venomous burn in Adam's eyes. Something he thought he'd never have to see after all this time...
"What's that supposed to mean?" His mouth felt dry. "Does Matt know you any better than I do? Does he? Is that what you mean?"
Adam's eyes did not move away from Oliver's face when he spoke. "None of you get it," he muttered. "Not Matt. Not even you. I – I don't – I—" His shoulders began to shake and he found himself falling to his knees, his face full of emotion – and exhaustion. "I'm just – just tired."
"Hey, hey." Oliver moved to his boyfriend quickly and closed his arms around Adam, so familiar with everything about him. Something about being this close to Adam made him feel calm and, apparently, it worked the other way too, because his body seemed to melt right into his. Oliver pressed his cheek gently against Adam's and he let out a soft sigh.
"Movie night?" Adam suggested, his voice muffled. Oliver thought he might be crying, but decided not to pursue it further.
"What do you have in mind?" he asked.
"Grave of the fireflies," Adam said. "I'm particularly fond of that movie."
They both looked at each other and smiled.
Later on, after the movie had finished and they were both picking up stray bits of popcorn that lay on the floor all thanks to the popcorn fight that had ensued at some point, Oliver looked over to Adam and spoke.
"Adam," he said and the other boy glanced over at him.
"Yeah?"
"Er, you're – you're okay, yeah?"
The other boy responded far too quickly for it to be true.
"Yeah, yeah." He laughed. "Never better."
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