Conceal || ItsFunneh AU

08 | date of study

I shuffle underneath the sycamore tree after school, wondering if he's bailing on me.

The parking lot is all but empty now, lest for a few lone students chattering in the parking lot. My siblings have long since left, leaving me alone to sketch, pretending to seem occupied.

"Hey! I'm so sorry," Calix runs up from the school building, breathing heavily. "I got caught up by some stuff."

Relief pours out like a flood, and I grin. His anxious eyes loosen up at my grin, and he mirrors it, one side of his mouth quirking up.

My gaze falls on his lips, where one corner is beginning to swell up. I frown. "What happened? Did you get into a fight?" My hand reaches up to touch the bruise, but I stop halfway and let my arm fall.

Boundaries, Lunar. Boundaries.

Calix lets out a nonchalant huff. "No. I was just being my clumsy self and walked into a wall." He reaches down and picks up my backpack. "Let's go."

I trail after him, not quite believing him, but also not doubting him. There's no reason for him to lie to me, after all.

His apartment is just like I'd remembered: dimly lit cozy lights, unmade bed, and the pile of leftover boxes are still by the front door from my last visit.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

"Uh, sure. Soy milk?" I don't expect him to have any, but he opens the fridge and takes out a jug.

"I have friends who are lactose-free," he explains, handing me a cup.

"Do you have a lot of friends?" I take a sip of soy milk.

Calix frowns. "I suppose? We hang out together a lot."

"But do you enjoy hanging out with them?"

He blinks, and I'm a bit surprised at how slow his sharp mind is reacting to this.

"Of course. They're... a good time."

I take another sip, my mind flashing back to the expression on his face the other day when he was hanging out with friends.

"Why the sudden interest in me?" Calix's question catches me off-guard, and I almost spit out my mouthful of soy milk. It takes me a second too long to realize he's talking about the interest in his life, not him.

"I have an English project about friendship," I lie before I even think about it. Like my first reflex to any off-guard question is to lie.

"That's a lie."

This time, I actually do spit soy milk out onto his floor. "Oh crap! I'm so, so sorry." I pluck a handful of tissue paper and wipe his floor, and when I get up, I make sure the fiery blush is not showing on my face. Although, now that my ability is slowly dying, I'm not even sure if that worked.

My eyes lock with Calix's, which are thoughtful.

"Why the sudden interest in me?" I shoot back, and he raises an eyebrow at me. "Sorry, you were right. I was lying." My dignity screams in agony, but I continue, "I just noticed you look uncomfortable next to your so-called 'friends'."

Calix stays silent. When I try to catch his eyes, they avert me.

Huh, so maybe he struggles with friends, too.

"Alright," I clap my hands together. "Shall we start tortur- I mean, tutoring, you?" I take a seat at the counter and look at him.

He smiles, a small one where only one corner of his mouth lifts up. "Yeah, let's start suctioning the artistic skills out of you."

"Wait, wait, wait. What's the difference between Surrealism and Abstract?"

I sigh. This is the third time he's asked this. I've thought about giving up, but my stubbornness—and the prize he gets if he wins the bet—stops me.

"Why did you join art again?"

He grins. "To join you, of course."

I shoot him a glare. That's been his answer every time I've asked that, and now, I'm actually starting to believe him. He really knows nothing about art.

"Hey, I didn't know we had to get tested on the history of art! I thought we just draw. And paint. And have fun."

"Do you even know how to draw?" Yes, this sounds like a stupid question, but I'm really starting to doubt him.

Calix gives a sheepish smile, extracting a groan from deep in my throat.

"Let's take a break," I say, pushing back against the counter and standing up. A light breeze greets me as I slide open the balcony doors, and I breathe in, letting the breeze waft through my hair, not caring whether my ears are showing or not. No one's looking.

My bare feet pad across the cool ceramic tilings and I rest my arms on the railings, gazing down below. A few people are strolling along the streets. An ice cream shop stands across the street, and a little girl squeals in joy as her mother hands her a cone.

I watch as the unstable ice cream scoop wobbles and falls off, making a pink splat on the floor. The girl lets out a loud wail as the mom hurries to comfort her. A twinge of pity appears in my stomach, but it disappears as the ice cream shop owner hands the little girl another cone. Her face lights up in joy and she stops crying.

People can be so nice sometimes.

Walking back into the room, I see Calix hunched over on the counter, scribbling. Quietly, I tiptoe behind him and lean over his shoulder to see what he's doing.

A sketch of the back of a girl occupies the bottom of his studying sheet. Her bare feet are tiptoed elegantly, and strands of hair twirl around each other like they're dancing.

I gasp as I realize that girl is me.

Calix jolts up and slaps a hand over the paper, covering the sketch. "Lunar! Jeez, you scared me!"

"Did you draw that?"

"I—yeah. It's just a sketch. No big deal."

"No, no, that's not true. That sketch is so... captivating."

I'm sure I'm not imagining the twinge of pink on his cheeks. "You think so?" He asks, lifting his hand.

I nod. He's somehow managed to make me look... pretty, even when I'm wearing black and baggy clothes. Unlike me, who needs colour to make art look alive, his isn't even coloured.

"Yes. Now I know why you joined art."