All The Ways I Hate You [Solangelo]

Chapter 4 (Final)

Will didn't know what to do when he got home that night or when he got to school the next morning. Putting the poem in the pen was the worst thing he could have done—what if Nico found it? There was no way to play it off as anything but what it was: A stupid, careless, utterly irrevocable declaration of his love.

He had never told anyone he was in love with Nico di Angelo. Never. Not a single soul. If the first person to find out was Nico himself, well, that would be some kind of justice. He could get told off for the final time, maybe he would even punch him. It wasn't outside of the realm of possibility, Nico was known to be a wild card and he'd fought people he liked more for less heinous crimes than the one Will had committed against him. This is what he thought about all through Biology, through Calculus, through lunch—all day up until studyhall.

Everyone had been clued into Will's mood all day, and the number of people who asked him if he was alright was surprising—but nowhere near as surprising as who asked next. Nico had switched desks and was seated in the one beside him, the one that was usually empty. Will checked his usual seat, three rows to the left and four rows back. Empty. Why the hell was he here?

"Excuse me?" Will asked.

"I asked if you were alright," Nico said. "If this school can't count on you for hope that everything will be okay, I don't know who's left."

He was sweating just from making eye contact with Nico without staring straight into a scowl, his hands were so numb that the pencil he'd mooched off of Piper the period before slipped onto the desk. He still managed to roll his eyes.

Seeing that was a first for Nico. Suddenly every interaction that he'd ever had with Will Solace came rushing back and he realized he'd never seen him unhappy. Never. Not to mention angry. Snarky? Sarcastic? Eye roller? These words were not synonymous with Will Solace. What had changed from yesterday?

"Seriously, di Angelo," Will said, "Everyone has bad days. I've tried to be nice to you—you obviously don't fucking care—"

The teacher shot them a pointed glare when she heard Will cuss. He rolled his eyes at that, too, and lowered his voice when he continued. "So if you want to poke fun at someone, I heard that Charlie Beckendorf's girlfriend just broke up with him; why not mess with him?"

Will couldn't believe what he was saying, he barely registered the hitch in Nico's breathing when the word left his mouth. He regretted it. He regretted the poem, too, but he regretted this more. Still, he couldn't stop now.

"What?" he asked. He could tell the sneer on his face was ugly. "You've been a dick to me since fifth grade. I'm done trying." Every fraction of resentment Will held against Nico for never giving him a chance came rushing to the surface. He hated it. Maybe it was for the best. It would stop hurting if he and Nico never talked to each other again.

"I..." Nico's voice was quiet, he was looking down at the sketchbook in his lap. His knuckles were white around the cover. "I understand." He said.

Nico stood up silently and took a deep breath. It was only seconds but it felt like hours—Will had given him an out. There was no way they would ever talk to each other again if he left right now. That had been what he wanted for years now, a release from his addiction to Will Solace.

Except he had never wanted that.

Will felt his expression soften involuntarily when Nico set his sketchbook on Will's desk with the lightest touch he had ever seen. He turned and walked to the teacher's desk without looking back. He heard Nico ask for a bathroom pass. He stomped everywhere but his footsteps were quiet as he left.

Leo was in the library making up a test, no one Will knew was there to witness what just happened. He could dump the sketchbook in the trash at the front of the class and be done with it forever.