"I just don't get this," Asher complained miserably to Liam from behind his book.
Liam laughed lightly, pulling the book out of Asher's hands. "What's the problem?"
Asher scowled at the books in Liam's hands. "Who lives in the woods just to see if they can?" He put on a high-pitched affectation to his voice. "'It's a spiritual quest!'" He rolled his eyes. "Give me a break."
Liam laughed, closing his copy of the book. "Transcendentalism is... a lot."
Asher sulked, sliding down in his chair. The library was mostly deserted at this hour, with only a few other stragglers wandering around. It was his own fault they had to be here so late. Baseball practice took up most of his free time, and Liam had been unlucky enough to be paired with Asher for this essay. He suddenly felt very guilty about how late he was keeping Liam out. "Hey, I'm sorry my schedule is so complicated-"
Liam waved Asher off. "I work late on the weekends, I'd be up anyway." He winked cheekily. "Plus, I can tell all my friends I was up late with a gorgeous athlete."
Asher laughed nervously, feeling himself blush more than he was comfortable with. He grabbed his book again off the table, immersing himself in the confusing words again.
If Liam thought Asher's behavior was strange, he had the grace to keep it to himself. They both returned to reading silently. Asher tapped his foot softly to the music in his head, not paying any attention to the words his eyes were scanning over. It was going to take a miracle for Asher to pass this class. Thank god he had Liam in his corner. He was smart, and seemed to understand this garbage. He made a mental note to do something nice for Liam later as a thank you.
Hours later in his room, Asher frowned at the green book in his hands. He had to finish this section tonight, he wouldn't have time tomorrow. With a sigh, he crawled onto his bed and leaned against his pillow. He opened the book to the wrinkled receipt from the student store, marking his place in the dense text.
Perhaps it was the soft music playing in the background to hold his focus, maybe the stars above aligned, or maybe he just got lucky. But as he turned the pages, his frown faded and Asher just read. His eyes hesitated as he reached the end of the paragraph. "How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live."
Everything stopped. He set the book down and let out a slow breath. Warm tears were welling in the corners of his eyes beyond his control. With a sigh he grabbed the pillow from behind him and his head hit the wall behind him. He squeezed the pillow tightly and let himself cry for the first time in years. Asher, who prided himself on his bravery and integrity, was living in fear. He was so afraid. But he felt like he was cursed. Every time he took a step in the right direction, it ended in disaster. Someone got hurt. And Asher was so tired of hurting.
He sat forward, trying to steady his breathing. It felt like his heart was in a vice. He sent a text to Goose, having to correct several careless typos as he wrote. "can we talk tomorrow?"
