Miller Spencer knows that it's normal to love your best friend.
Ace has been his best friend since forever. So, of course, it's completely natural to want to kiss him. It is typical to get jealous when you see him with someone else. It is absolutel...
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I had almost decided to take the bus instead of having to face Ace the next morning. However, just as I stepped out of my home, I saw Ace's familiar car waiting for me like usual and my heart skipped a few beats in rapid succession.
I briskly walked over to it, opening the passenger door and slipping inside quietly.
"Er...hey," I said, glancing over at him. His face remained impassive as he turned the key in the ignition.
"Hi," he said in a stoic voice.
I let out a short breath and gazed outside as he started driving. I had spent the entire night trying to figure out why it was so difficult for me to confess to him when he was clearly desperate to hear it. Was that it? Was some sadistic part of me glad that for once he seemed desperate for validation and not me? Was I holding on to confessing to him because I needed to feel valued? Desired? Maybe.
The other reason struck me as stupid. People spoke such words all the time. How many times did they truly mean it? I had never said that to anyone. Never had anyone say that to me either. It was awkward to express love through words. Much easier to just show through actions. And I hoped my actions would be enough for Ace.
I was lost in reverie when suddenly the car stuttered to a stop. I glanced over at Ace curiously as he sighed and rubbed his eyes. He sat still for a while before leaning back and sighing again, biting his lip.
"Ace-?"
"You need to learn driving soon, Milo," he said, turning to look at me.
"Oh."
Was this his way of trying to push me away? Could I even blame him, after everything I had done? Maybe not.
The rest of the ride passed in silence, apart from the voices in my head which kept telling me how much of an idiot I was for hurting Ace this way. Was he mad at me? I could understand if he was. He had become vulnerable, almost desperate and I had shot him down. That was bound to be a huge blow to his confidence. I wished I could make up for it.
It was both for the better and the worse when school provided a distraction from my tormenting thoughts. First period, we got our scores back for the calculus test and even though I know I could've done better, I was happy with my seventeen on twenty.
I glanced over to where Ace sat still, gazing despondently at the answer sheet on his desk. I glanced up at Griezmann and after making sure she was engaged in answering the student's doubts, I rose to my feet and made my way over to Ace's desk.
I glanced at the score and my heart sank to my stomach. A single digit was scrawled into the corner. Two.
"I fucked up," he said, sighing and covering his face in his hands before looking at me.
I picked up his answer sheet and went through it, trying to look for formulas or calculation errors or anything that might increase his score. However, from the looks of it, he had made no effort, missing even the simplest questions and ones that I had made him practice multiple times.
