The House Master

Amusing, if Ornery

Diedrich watches silently as his friend enters the doorway. He feels like his heart his being manipulated on puppet strings, with Vincent as the puppeteer. Was this all a mistake? he asks himself. He walks home with his head hanging low, wondering if he really is as gullible as Vincent thinks. He feels numb, as always. He doesn't want to be pushed around by Vincent for the rest of his life, but it's worth it not to lose him.

The boy glances at the house one last time, hoping to catch a glimpse of Vincent between the curtains, to know he's safe. He decides that the next time he sees Vincent, he'll confess his feelings and kiss him. He must get in first, before Adrian does, otherwise he'll lose his chance with Vincent forever.

He arrives home and flops down onto his bed, feeling the softness of his Egyptian cotton sheets. Anxiety and anticipation spin around inside his head until they spiral into a whirlpool of emotion. What does Vincent really think of me? Why does he still keeps me around if he has someone so much more his type now?

Because Adrian is much more Vincent's type. Diedrich tried to be, he really did, but it just isn't him.

"My head hurts," he groans and goes back downstairs to take some Nyquil and fall asleep.

*

Adrian sighs over a plate of waffles buried under spirals of whipped cream. Inside, his heart pounds violently in its prison of his ribcage, his arms shake, hands shuddering in his pockets as he tries to hide it from William. This week, he decided last night, is the week he'll rescue Vincent.

When he finally gets to school, just in time for second period, he's already smoked all his weed and stolen some wine form the fridge. He needs it to get his head around what he plans to do. He doesn't usually smoke in the bathroom, but all he has are his cigarettes. He takes one from its pack and lights it up, twiddling it between his fingers before pressing it against his exposed forearm. It's a long, hard press that embeds the burn deep into his flesh. He'd keep going until he saw bone if the door hadn't opened, the clicking of footsteps sounding like those of a teacher, making him flush it quickly down the toilet.

"Adrian?" It isn't a teacher, but someone stern and nerdy enough to wear the shoes of one.

He pushes down the sleeve of his blazer and emerges from the stall, to find Diedrich standing before him.  "Yeah, d'you want smmmthin'?"

"You... you're fucked," Diedrich states in shock, seeing the bloodshot eyes and inhaling the stench of drugs and booze. Diedrich doesn't know how to help Adrian and nor does he particularly want to, just clears his throat. "Ahem, I thought you should hear it form me before anyone else. I'm going to ask Vincent out today,"

Adrian pauses for a moment, then barks out a laugh. "He won' say yes, an' you'll be all rejected nd sad... boo-hoo, my dear,"

Diedrich frowns, turning on his heel to leave without even using the toilet. "You're wrong, you don't know anything about Vincent,"

"Keep telllin' yrrrself that," Once he's gone, Adrian turns and throws his guts up into the toilet.

He flushes it and feels better after that - lucid, at least. He smirks towards the door, knowing Diedrich's fate before he even asks. After washing his hands in the sink and rinsing his mouth with water - which can go a long way in concealing his illicit activities - he goes to class anticipating Diedrich's defeat.