In The Morning I'll Be Better// newtmas

9

Thomas' POV:

As soon as I get home after today's events I climb into my bed and just lay there gazing up at the ceiling. So much happened, I don't know what to set my focus on and give my attention first. I'd prefer to not think about any of it but I know that won't happen. So, I lend my first thought to Newt and instantly know I should just forget about him. He practically begged me to forget about him with what he'd said to me. But to my dismay, I realise I could never ignore him no matter what happened. He's left a hook on me that I can't seem to wriggle from and he's going to haul me in. Maybe it's because that one dose of niceness gave me a glimpse of the kind of person Newt could be and now I'm addicted. He's like the cocaine the kids at the skate park snort: one try and it sends them into a world of wonder, though,  just one try could end be all it takes to send them into a helpless spiral toward their ruin.   

I sigh through my nose and push the thoughts out of my mind. Enough of that poetry. Slipping off my mattress, I stroll over to my wardrobe and change into a vest and sweat pants. I don't have an appetite and I definitely don't want to go to the skatepark. So instead, I climb back into bed and pull the covers above my head, drifting into a fitful sleep and hope tomorrow won't be as complicated.

*

I walk into school with a heavy head, my eye still swollen and legs sore. The day before, hell even the few days before, seem like a crazy dream but the evidence suggests otherwise. On the one hand, I want everything to go back to normal so that I don't have so much to worry about before my exams, but on the other, I don't think I've ever had so much action in my life and it is actually quite exciting.

Minho walks up to me, a frown on his face.

"What?" I ask.

"You look even worse than you did yesterday and you looked like crap then. Didn't sleep well?"

I scratch the back of my neck as I walk toward my first class. "You could say that"

"I know you, Thomas," Minho says, grabbing my arm to stop me before we get split up by a horde of younger kids, "What's really wrong?"

I see no way out of this conversation so I just give in. "I have a lot on my plate at the moment. A lot of fights. A lot of what-ifs. I'm just trying to work all this klunk out." I let my shoulders sink as I turn to Minho. 

He frowns, obviously thinking. 

"Has this got anything to do with the rumours?" Minho asks.

"What rumours?" 

My heart is hammering against my chest. Of course someone had to find out about me and Newt and now things were probably going to get substantially worse. I hope Minho doesn't hate me too much.

"That you got attacked by Aris a couple of days ago," Minho says, "And Newt defended you. Is that true?"

My nerves calm slightly. Thankfully, it isn't much of a rumour but it's still mortifying that people knew about it. Though Minho still thinks it's made up so I could just lie and end it here but I have a feeling that I should just tell the truth otherwise it will just escalate. 

"Yeah, it is," I mumble as we get jostled by the crowd, "He defended me and helped me afterwards." I don't go into detail as I don't want to send up any red flags.

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why did you let him help you? Couldn't you stand up for yourself?"

I raise my eyebrows and motion to my bruised face, "Min, it was five against one. I'm not even joking when I say Newt probably saved my life that day. And now I feel like I owe him my life. No wonder I'm not sleeping well."

Minho gives me a sympathetic smile and grabs my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

"Hey, there's more important things to worry about than bad-boy Newt. Just forget about it, shuck-face."

Minho's right. Newt isn't worth my time. He hates me, so I should hate him back. Even when he's the drug that keeps me from going mad from boredom.  

"You know what, you're right Min. I'm thinking too deeply about this. It's just Newt. Why should I care about what he did for me."

I give Minho a weak smile and he roles his eyes, strolling into our class. I make my way to the back of the room and drop heavily into my chair next to Minho, the metal legs scraping against the tiled floor. There is a low chatter across the class but I ignore it as I stare at the projector screen, waiting for the lesson to start.

*

Walking into the lunch hall, I slide onto a bench, sighing as I bury my face in my hands. I can feel other people sitting down near me and Minho calls my name but I ignore him. I want to sleep; I know that's not going to happen.

I feel someone slip onto the bench next to me, pushing against my side. I can tell it's not Minho as they're not as muscular but I can tell that they definitely could kick my ass when their hand squeezes my thigh. A small part of me thinks it's Newt and my head shoots up so fast I almost give myself a laceration.

It's Teresa.

She smiles at me and I smile back but that piece of me that wanted it to be Newt suddenly feels disappointed. It's not like I dislike Teresa's company, I definitely don't, but... I've got to forget about Newt. I mentally scream at myself for letting thoughts of that boy intrude on me again.

"Tom, are you okay?" Teresa asks, her hand still resting on my leg. I shift in my seat and thankfully it slips off.  

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"You just look kind of sad. If you aren't feeling great, I'm here if you ever need me."

She smiles warmly again and presses her shoulder against mine. I don't know why she's doing it but it's nice that she cares about me. Minho's a great friend but he isn't the best at emotional chats. So having Teresa here when I need her is comforting, to say the least.  

We don't talk after that but she stays pressed up against my side, her hand brushing upon mine. I'm still drained so I let myself study the room to keep myself awake. The room is very full and it makes me wonder if there is currently a summer rain shower, which means...

As my gaze moves to one corner of the room, more occupied than the rest, a single person stands out from the crowd. My heart skips a beat.

I've told myself to forget about Newt over and over again but just looking at him now reminds me of why I want to be near him; because he's the drug I've taken once and now the world doesn't seem as great as when it was coursing through me. The more I watch him, the more I want to stand up and to shout to him to give me his attention. The thought makes me feel absurd.

I don't turn away, but continue to stare, observing Newt talk to a small group of boys and girls. I watch as he loosens his tie a little more than it already was, and undo another button on his shirt, revealing more soft, pale flesh. I gape as he pulls his shirt out of where it had been tucked in his trousers, lifting it a little higher than should have been necessary and exposing an area of skin along his abdomen. I can feel my face burning but I can't look away. The heartbeat between my thighs thumps erratically, and the region below my naval feels weird like it's aroused.

Yet, that can't be right.

I stand up suddenly, knocking Teresa as I turn but I don't care; I need to get as far away from Newt as possible. It can't be right because Newt is a boy and the school told us it's not right to be gay and I have to follow that or be expelled. I shouldn't like Newt because I can't. Because I just don't.

I think...