The Foreigner & The Pessimist (malexmale)

11. Lane

After the fiasco that was breakfast, I'm actually looking forward to gym. I probably shouldn't be considering what happened between Darin and Zuuro yesterday – Darin is probably going to want to kill me now - but I really need to work my anger out on something, and I need it not to be another student. Or worse, one of my teachers. Because I'm pretty sure that snapping at one of them would put a quick end to my education here.

I sigh. I just really need to hit something.

I'm not usually a violent person. I mean, I've been told I have a bit of a temper, but I don't usually get into anything physical. Normally, I'd just go for a really long run and hope that by the time I'm finished I'll be calm again. Because that's what I do; I use vigorous exercise to work out my frustrations.

Unfortunately, running isn't an option right now, because I have classes, and I can't miss them. Hence why I'm looking forward to gym. And as long as Mr. Carrera hasn't decided to change anything, we should be sparring again today. And that's good. I really need a good spar session right now.

"Hey." Zuuro says as he drops his bag down into one of the empty lockers beside my own.

I quickly pull my shirt on before turning to face him. "Hey." I greet, mustering my best smile in hopes that somehow that'll make things less weird.

Ever since my...passionate outburst this morning, I can't help but to feel a little awkward around Zuuro. And while it did seem to make him feel better, I still feel like maybe that was something I should have done in private. Or with Fallon. Because Fallon would understand. She gets me. Zuuro, on the other hand...he just doesn't know me well enough yet.

I should have just stuck with a simple apology. That's all I needed. Just a simple "I'm sorry". But did I do that? No, of course not, because I'm incapable of making things easy for myself. I mean, dad was definitely out of line, but there were better ways I could have handled that situation.

I rub my hand over the nape of my neck. "So...about breakfast –"

Zuuro cuts me off by holding up his hand. "Lane, it's okay. Really. You don't have to say anything more."

He seems a lot more like himself again – definitely in better spirits since I last saw him – but I think he's still hurt too. No matter how much he denies it.

"Yeah, but it's not." I say. I mean, I'm still pissed about it, and I wasn't the one my dad decided to be a judgmental prick to this morning, so there's no way he can just be okay.

Maybe dad could tell that I've got a thing for Zuuro? Fallon did say she could see it pretty easily...so maybe that's why he went from seemingly friendly to completely hostile so quickly? Maybe he was just looking for any reason to dislike him?

That's something dads do, right? Dislike people their kids are into?

Which is precisely why I've never introduced him to anyone I've been interested in before. Because I figured that his normal protective, overbearing, dadness would be amplified tenfold. But with Zuuro...I don't know, it's just different. I just felt like they should meet. Then again, I also thought they'd get along, but clearly that didn't happen. So maybe I should just stop assuming that ever trusting my own judgement is a good idea.

Get it together, Lane. What's happened has already happened and dwelling on it isn't helping anything. I tell myself, trying to get my head clear.

Beside me, Zuuro is pulling his gym clothes out of his bag and beginning to strip so he can get changed into the new clothes we found last night. "Are we still friends?"