Chapter Text
Ben’s face froze in a perfect “o” as he comprehended who he was supposed to be tutoring for the rest of the semester. Paxton seemed equally surprised, staring up at the UN club member with wide, panicked eyes. Neither of them said anything. What could be said in this type of situation, the two ex-boyfriends of the same girl who thought it would be a good idea to date them simultaneously?
Unfortunately, Ms. Warner took their shared silence positively. “Looks like you two already know each other!” She exclaimed. “Then this will be a breeze, Mr. Hall-Yoshida. Mr. Gross is an academic beast. He will get you up to speed in no time. Now,” she waved her hand toward her door. “Shoo, shoo. Back to whatever y’all were doing before.”
Ben and Paxton walked stiffly out of Ms. Warner’s office side by side, heads down. The lack of people and chatter in the corridors made the air feel oppressive and something--anything--needed to push against it. Clearing his throat and momentarily pausing when the sound bounced off of the walls, Ben awkwardly spoke. “So… I can do three times a week: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Let me know what time and which place and--”
“You don’t have to do this, man,” Paxton sighed, defeated. He began to peel away, searching for his locker. His broken arm was aching. “Just tell me what I need to do and we won’t have to meet.”
“That’s not how that works. And,” Ben followed him resolutely. “Even though I don’t like this arrangement, I need the extra credit.”
“Fuck you.” Paxton spit out. “I don’t care about your extra credit.” He approached his locker and roughly threw the door open. Of course this guy would only think about himself. More to him for his Ivy-League college applications, which Paxton just found out might not even be a possibility for him--
“But you care about college,” Ben insisted. He stood behind him, sizing up the three inches the athlete had on him. “And doing one worksheet isn’t going to solve that. If you stick with me, I can give you what you need to know.”
Paxton shoved his backpack into his locker before leaning against it to stretch out his injured arm. “You make it sound so political,” he grumbled.
He could have sworn he saw a light blush on Ben’s cheeks. “Sue me, Model UN rubs off on the rest of my life. But it was either me or Devi as your tutor.”
“Devi still would have been a better choice.” … Well, an annoying nerd or a girl who broke his heart and indirectly caused him to get hit by a car?
“Fine then. Finish this semester with average grades. Or, if you choose to go to Devi, second best grades, and second best won’t get you into Stanford. Not by a long shot. I am your only hope, Paxton. So,” Ben shoved his phone into the other boy’s free hand. “Give me a time and place, and we’ll start three times a week for an hour, next week.” His eyes held firm while Paxton’s flitted over the phone and then anywhere but Ben’s smug face.
This guy was really not going to give him a choice, was he?
Grudgingly and slowly, Paxton spoke aloud as he typed. “Picnic tables by Granger Park, 5 o’clock.”
“Great.” Once he was done, Ben plucked the phone out of his hand as swiftly as he set it down and turned 180-degrees around. “See you then,” he called out before rounding the corner and disappearing from sight. Paxton stared at the empty space in front of him blankly.
Fantastic.
Home was always lonely.
Ben unlocked the door and pushed it open. The yawning space of the connected rooms was too empty, too cold. If he wasn’t home, nothing was alive in the house. Well, except for a few houseplants that his mother bought and never took care of.
Not like she was ever there to take care of them.
Ben solemnly closed the door behind him. The click of the lock sounded final. Terminal. Just him in a big, empty house.
Despite how much drama school had been over the past week, the emotional rollercoaster that Devi ensnared him on, he couldn’t wait to go back. At least he was less lonely there. At least he meant something there.
He shrugged off his backpack. He needed to make lesson plans for his new “student.” (To be honest, he even looked forward to those lessons. What the hell was wrong with him?)
“You actually found a tutor.”
Paxton snorted half-heartedly at his sister’s statement, ignoring the pang of hurt from her bewildered expression. “Yup.” He scrubbed at his face, suddenly tired. “We already set up some study sessions too.”
“Wow. I didn’t think you had the initiative,” Rebecca bluntly said, “but I’m glad someone’s gonna help you. But, Pax, remember that helping doesn’t mean doing homework for you.”
“I know, I know. I’ll do my stuff from now on.” Dejection must have leaked into his tone, for from behind him, Rebecca walked over to his bed and sat down next to him. She lifted her arm and playfully poked his shoulder.
“I know you’ll do good,” she admitted quietly. “Once you try, you always do good.”
Paxton didn’t respond. That wasn’t true. The only thing he was good for was swimming and being the hot guy at school. He wasn’t good at anything else. His parents made that very clear when they said it would be fine if he didn’t go to college. Devi--the one person he was legitimately interested in--just wanted him for sex and popularity.
He would try to be good, but he was near confident that he wasn’t going to get anywhere.
The next Monday rolled around all too fast and all too slow. Before he knew it, Ben was waiting anxiously at a random picnic table in Granger Park, next to the abandoned playground. Spring was turning into summer early, so he took the liberty of moving an umbrella over the table to block the sun.
But if Paxton didn’t show up in the next ten minutes, that was all for vain. He was already five minutes late. Nothing could get done if Paxton never showed up.
Ben wanted to hit his head against the table. Why did he expect anything from Paxton? He was the stud of the entire school. He probably thought that he was above this tutoring stuff.
Who was he kidding? Why did he think that magically he and Paxton would get along and bulldoze through material, happily ever after?
Just as he stood and started to gather his books from the table, a familiar voice yelled, “Wait!”
Ben’s head snapped up and he was abruptly assaulted with the sight of Paxton’s shirtless, chiseled chest. Quickly, he averted his eyes, heat that was not caused by the late afternoon sun traveling up his neck. “What the hell,” he muttered breathlessly.
Paxton jogged over to him. “Dude, sorry. I just remembered five minutes ago.” Obliviously, he threw his shirt and the rest of his stuff to the ground. “I’m going to take this seriously now. I promise.” He swung one leg over the bench and looked up eagerly at Ben. (Like a puppy. Why was Ben thinking about puppies?)
Ben swallowed hard. Slowly, almost comically, he lowered himself back into his seat while keeping his face forward. This was… strange. Is this what popular boy/athlete-confidence was? “I don’t remember saying shirts were optional.”
Then Paxton realized. “Oh. Yeah, Trent brought in this huge thing of juice and poured it on a bunch of us when we walked out of school. My shirt’s all wet and sticky, so… I’d rather not wear it right now.” He did a once over of Ben’s rigid form and smirked. “Is it going to be a problem?”
He couldn’t let him get to him. He couldn’t. “Nope,” Ben replied, popping the “p” louder than necessary. “Just know that it will count against your professionalism score.”
That made Paxton frown. “Professionalism score? There’s no such thing as a professionalism score.”
“Yes, there is. If I have learned anything from Model UN, which I have,” he added in case Paxton decided to poke fun at his intelligence, “It’s that professionalism leads to a better impression.”
“Why does impression matter? I’m just trying to up my grades.”
“Yes, for now. You need more than grades to get into colleges. Since you can’t get recruited anymore, you have to apply the traditional way: interviews and essays. That means not being late and not being shirtless, out of many other things.”
“Are you serious--”
“And an attitude change.”
Paxton glared at him. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t like you.”
Ben lifted an eyebrow. “You’re not walking away.”
“My sister would kick my ass otherwise.”
“Great! Assurance that you will actually do work for this.” Ben spread his resources out so the other boy could read the titles. “Let’s get started. Which class do you think is the hardest?”
Paxton took a moment to consider the textbooks in front of him. “English,” he hesitantly said, “Because I’ve been getting a bunch of Cs lately.”
Ben huffed. “That wasn’t my question.”
“What do you mean? It’s my worst class. We should work on that first.”
“I didn’t ask for your worst class. I asked for your hardest class.” No longer as intimidated by the sight of his bare torso, Ben braved facing Paxton. “There’s usually a discrepancy between what we perceive as our hardest class and our worst class. Sometimes, our worst class is the class that we don’t put much effort into. Do you think that’s the case for you and English?”
“... I dunno.” Paxton’s gaze drifted to the Trigonometry textbook. “Maybe the hardest is math. I don’t get a lot of what goes on most of the time.”
Ben couldn’t help the smile that came over his face. Math. That was good. That was something attainable for the first few sessions, especially if he got Paxton to memorize the laws and such. “Great. We’ll start there.” He opened the Trig book and skimmed through the table of contents. “What was the last thing you did in class? Where are your old notes?”
Paxton simply shrugged. “I don’t usually keep notes.”
… No notes? “Not even from last semester?”
“No.”
Scratch that “attainable” thing. Ben exasperatedly flipped to the first chapter of the textbook. “No wonder you don’t understand anything. We’ll just go from the beginning…”
Paxton exhaustedly dragged his feet into his family’s house. The new math materials Ben gave him were dense, like bricks. Even though they planned for an hour session, they ended up arguing about trig laws for an hour and a half. If Ben thought he was a dumbass before, he certainly would think that he is legit stupid now. But Paxton hasn’t felt that intellectually stimulated in a while.
An uncomfortable pit settled in his gut.
It shouldn’t matter to him what Ben thinks. He’s just the guy who Devi cheated with. He should be dead to him.
Rebecca was waiting for him at the dinner table, sketching her latest fashion creation. She only looked up when he collapsed onto the couch with a groan. Giggling, she asked, “Where’d the shirt go?”
“Trent got it dirty. Had to take it off.”
“Hmm. I bet your tutor liked it.”
His head shot up at that. “It’s a dude, Reb, who’s not gay. I don’t think he liked it.”
Rebecca frowned. “What? It’s a dude?”
“Yeah…” The confused lit to her voice made Paxton sit up a bit more. “Why do you ask?”
“Mom and Dad got an email earlier today from this girl who said that she was your tutor. She said something about someone switching with her, but she really wanted to tutor you, so she offered extra time.”
“That can’t be right. Ms. Wallace assigned Ben to me. Who was it?”
“Some girl named Devi.”
“Show me the email.”
Ben slouched on his desk. He was tired after the tutoring session yesterday and fell asleep before he could make dinner for himself. He woke up at 2:00 AM with his stomach eating him from the inside out. He stumbled into the kitchen, ate a banana, and then realized that he still had homework that was due later that day that he completely forgot to double check the night before. Fueled by academic panic, he chugged three cups of coffee and went through all of his homework to make sure that his submissions were up to his standards.
Now, he was trying very hard not to pass out before the first class of the day. He felt a little sick, no doubt from his horrible self care.
He didn’t notice Paxton approach him in his sluggishness until the boy was right behind him. “Yo, Gross.”
Shit. Ben groggily lifted his head to meet Paxton’s stormy expression. “You deliberately switched with Devi to tutor me,” he continued. “Why?”
Ben scoffed. “Why do you think?”
“You wanna get back together with her, so you’re taking me out of her life.”
“What--no!” Ben sat up a little straighter. “I’m not doing this for Devi. Believe it or not, no matter how insufferable you are, I am doing this to protect you from her.”
“Thank you for your concern,” Paxton snipped. “But I don’t need protection. I can handle myself fine.” He began to go back to his seat, but before either of them could process it, Ben’s hand was wrapped around Paxton’s good arm, the contact stopping either of them from moving.
“You don’t need her back in your life.” Ben declared. “She is just going to manipulate you further. Your emotions are not her priority, her own, selfish desires are.”
“Stop! Stop trying to politicize everything! She’s not an enemy!”
“I’m not! I’m telling you the truth! She doesn’t get to waltz back into our lives like it was nothing.”
“It’s not that big of a deal, man. Let it go.”
In a wave of irrational anger, Ben surged up from his seat, causing the legs of his desk to clatter against the linoleum floor. The room went silent as Ben got in Paxton’s face. “You have no right to say that to me,” the Model UN member seethed.
“Oh yeah?” Paxton shouted with just as much force. His voice reverberated in the dead silence of the classroom. “Tell me, tough guy. She nuke you in your roleplay? She got you prepped to hook up only to bail when she found out you couldn’t get it up--”
Hands grasped the lapels of Paxton’s jacket and lifted him a few centimeters above the ground. The athlete’s eyes widened as the crowd around him and Ben gasped.“She was the only one who cared about me!” Ben’s voice cracked. “She was the only one who didn’t hate me in the entire world, and I was so happy, because I forgot about how my parents fucking abandoned me and how lonely I am all the time. But then to find out that she was dating you? That she would rather say that she was dating you over me? I…”
Self awareness hit Ben like a bullet train. All in one instant, he was too conscious of how close he was to Paxton’s terrified face, how claustrophobic the crowd around them was, how shaky and broken his voice had become--
And in the midst of it all, Devi’s face, at the front of the crowd, her expression shocked. Like she didn’t know the effect she had, because she was too self-absorbed to notice.
It was too much. Ben just committed social suicide.
Burning shame and embarrassment crept up his spine. He had enough dignity left to release Paxton onto the unforgiving floor, but not enough to stop himself from running out of the class.
Screw his attendance.
Too many people were coming up to him, helping him off of the floor and asking if he was alright. And far too many people were gossiping about the video they took of the scene, how mental Ben was, how it was no wonder crazy Devi and crazy Ben ended up being together--
Paxton beelined out of the classroom. Devi tried to stop him on his way out, meaningless apologies already spilling from her lips, and he simply brushed past her.
Fuck. He had to get out of there. Out of school. Whatever it took.
The pit in his stomach grew tenfold. He felt… guilty. He wasn’t supposed to feel guilty. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything for that jerk who just put a whole scene for everyone to see. But…
Ben was so vulnerable just then. Even Paxton could see how much repressed hurt he poured into his confession.
Paxton wandered the halls. He needed to find Ben and, for some inexplicable feeling in his gut, had to apologize. Formally. Honestly.
“Hey, are you alright?” Paxton whipped around to the new voice, prepared to dismiss the person’s concern, when he found the only other person in the hall with him not addressing him, but rather the door to the men’s bathroom. She had her ear pressed against the doorframe. “You seemed pretty upset,” she was saying. “I just want to make sure you’re alright on your own.”
Paxton blinked. Men’s bathroom. She couldn’t be talking about someone taking care of themselves this early in the morning--
Oh. Men’s bathroom. Ben. That made more sense.
“Hey,” he called to the girl. He quickly made his way beside her, noting how she evaluated him up and down. “Do you know who just went in there?”
She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m new. I just transferred here.”
Alright. That’s fine. He’ll just-- “Ben?” Paxton loudly banged on the door. “Ben, man, please. I’m sorry.”
Muffled, Ben stubbornly replied, “No, you’re not.”
The new girl further examined Paxton. “You did this?”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“He’s literally in tears!”
“No, I’m not!” Ben responded, forcing his voice to level and his emotions back into the repressed place in his heart. “Leave me alone!” i forgot how lonely i was all the time--
“I can’t do that, Ben.” Paxton said past the lump in his throat. “Not after what just happened.”
“Forget about it!”
He was about to shout something scathing about the boy’s inability to let others in, both literally and figuratively, when the new girl placed a pacifying hand on his shoulder. “Let me talk to him,” she said lightly. “He doesn’t need to talk about whatever the hell happened with you, but he needs to talk out his feelings. And, unfortunately, with the amount of therapy sessions I’ve had, I think I’m the better one to do so right now.” She caught his skeptical hesitation and offered, “My name’s Aneesa.”
He needed to be here. He needed to go in and apologize and pretend it never happened in the first place so all of this drama could just end.
But, the new girl--Aneesa--was right. He wasn’t equipped to talk about whatever feelings Ben was going through. He wasn’t really good enough for anything. He just kept messing up everything good that passed his way.
“Paxton,” he whispered. Slowly, he drew away from the bathroom door. “Please let me know how it goes? I… I really need to apologize.”
“You seem sincere enough,” Aneesa concluded. “So I will. You better fix this.”
Paxton swallowed harshly. “I’ll try.”
“Don’t try,” she reprimanded. Her hand moved from his shoulder to the door, already pulling it open. “Do.” And with that, she entered the men’s bathroom, softly calling Ben’s name.
Paxton stood there, stunned. This situation was spiraling out of control. The last thing he needed was to upset Ben Gross and feel bad about it.
“Paxton!”
Well, the second to last thing.
Devi skidded down the hall and spoke two words a second. “Oh my God! Are you okay? He didn’t hurt your arm, did he? That was wild. I had no idea that he felt like that. I just wanted both of you, you know? I really never meant to hurt either of you, and I’ll apologize for the rest of the semester if that’s what it take for you to forgive me because I just couldn’t decide between the two of you—”
It’s always about her.
“Shut up!” His command shook the world that was him and Devi alone in the corridor. “This is no longer about you, Devi. Can’t you see that?”
“No, this is all my fault, but I was doing it for a good reason—”
“I’m done with you, Devi.”
She blinked, opened her mouth, closed her mouth, and blinked again. For being an acclaimed “smart person” in their grade, she had a slow processing speed. “What?”
“I’m done! I don’t want to deal with this self-pity thing that you have going on!”
She actually took a step back, like the fact physically struck her. “I don’t have a self-pity thing!”
“You do!” Paxton shouldered his bag and turned his back to her. “You’re just too shallow to realize it.” His feet guided him toward the exit of the school, only a couple of feet ahead. “You better stay away from Ben, too. We don't want anything to do with you.”
He pushed the door open and simply left. This chick was not worth it.
Aneesa guided Ben out of the bathroom when the next period bell rang. She lent him an extra hoodie she packed that morning, letting him hide underneath the huge hood and in the giant pockets. Luckily, they also had the next class together, so Aneesa scared away anyone who tried to approach Ben during passing time. While the gestures were extremely kind, Ben couldn’t help but feel exposed and raw. A good fraction of his grade saw his breakdown. It was only a matter of time before gossip spread. He would no longer be ignored for being a nerd, but will be known as the sensitive guy, or something like that.
His emotional sensitivity must have been what spread the quickest, for the next thing he knew, Eleanor and Fabiola were bracketing him on both sides and Aneesa leading the way. It was like something out of Charlie’s Angels, which only increased his embarrassment.
“Thanks, guys,” he mumbled anyways, rubbing the remaining tears off of his cheeks.
“We got you,” Eleanor told him fiercely. “I’m sorry that I helped Devi conduct her little science experiment with the two of you, but I swear both Fab and I were against it from the start. We are on your side 100%.”
At first, he thought he should be mad at Devi’s two friends. But then he realized that Devi may no longer have friends after everything. So that made him feel a bit better that Eleanor and Fab came to him.
They reached Ben’s next classroom and said their goodbyes, Eleanor and Fab making sure that he and Aneesa were going to be okay. Aneesa assured them that she would look out for Ben while he quietly took a seat. It felt nice to have people care about him. Different, but nice.
Because he had English next, he pulled out his laptop and logged in. His desktop was a mess, windows upon windows open. Aneesa commented how it was a virtual analog to the state of her room, and he laughed. Methodically, he closed the windows one by one until he found a window that he hadn’t closed since yesterday afternoon about sine laws.
His tutoring session with Paxton.
Ben buried his face into his arms. Tomorrow will be only their second session. He didn’t blame Paxton for all that happened, but he wasn’t sure if he could even face the boy without feeling crappy.
He closed the window and navigated to his Gmail, hastily writing a letter to Ms. Wallace and Paxton. The faster he could get out of the tutoring situation, the better, extra credit be damned.
However, halfway through the letter, he paused. This really wasn’t about him, though, was it? It was for Paxton. For him to go to a good college. That was enough to make Ben hesitate. Though he disliked him--God, he didn’t even know he disliked him, despite his previous anger--he didn’t want to ruin his life. Not anymore than Devi did.
Ben stared at his draft, conflicted, until after his second class began.
Paxton played it low and safe when he reappeared at school the next day. It was nearly torturous to hear Trent mock him and Ben right when he walked through the door, the taller boy slinging an arm around his shoulders and laughing boisterously, so he tried to avoid him for the rest of the day. Peers glanced at him in the halls and whispered, but nothing was outright said. He could work with that.
What he couldn’t work out was why Ben didn’t cancel their tutoring session later that day. He assumed the other would be done with him for the rest of eternity. To be fair, it probably didn’t help that he actively avoided Ben during school hours, but he didn’t want to face his wrath just yet, no matter how much he deserved it after egging him on yesterday.
Paxton floated through his classes, barely absorbing any information (like usual) with anxiety building up as the clock ticked closer and closer to 5:00 (unlike usual). By 3:00, he was seriously debating whether he would just ditch their session to save himself.
It was at 4:32, when classes just ended, that Paxton not only decided to skip tutoring and head home for the day, heart heavy, but also ran into Ben as they both rounded a sharp and blind corner.
“Watch it--” “--’cuse me--”
Both of their voices died in their throats.
They kind of sat there for a good minute, eyes scanning over each other. It wasn’t physical injuries they were looking for, but emotional cues; something, anything, that screamed to go away.
Nothing came.
All Ben saw was worry and held breath. All Paxton saw was a proposal for an unspoken truth.
He was always so political.
Finally caving in, Paxton smiled weakly.
And Ben smiled brighter.