Stifling a yawn with the back of his hand, Scotty leaned back in his chair, the front legs lifting from the ground as he balanced his elbow on the desk behind him. Turning to scan the room – and earning a timid smile from the cute girl whose desk space he was now inhabiting – he spotted Wardo in his usual seat, but where the seat beside him had found itself empty over the passing months, it was now filled once more. Only not by the face that Scotty had been yearning to see – yearning, of course, was not the word he would have liked to use, but he was tired and he couldn’t think of a more appropriate way to describe his desire to see his friend. The spot beside Wardo was filled by a girl who he was pretty sure was Ivy. He hadn’t ever seen her at Uni before, and he wondered if Morley knew she was here.
Puffing out his cheeks, Scotty starting blowing out air in a loud, obnoxious manner that, for some reason, didn’t seem to bother the girl behind him, the same girl who seemed to be fixing him with the familiar doe-eyed stare that he had grown so used to from the girls back home. Letting his chair fall back onto all fours as he turned his attention back to his lecturer, Scotty pondered over his time in Wellington. He couldn’t deny that he loved his new home, and that he’d found himself surrounded by some of the best people he’d ever known. He’d always been popular, running in large crowds and always on the receiving end of fluttering eyelashes and flirty pouts from cute girls, but Wellington was different. Now he found himself on the receiving end of those very same suggestive smiles, only this time they were often worn by boys. He couldn’t say for certain whether that was a new thing or not as he’d certainly never looked at any boys like that. Not until he had moved to Wellington, anyway. Now he found himself wasting away days thinking about Louis Denver, who was not only a boy, and incredibly out of his league, but also happened to be a boy in a relationship. Those were three different levels of unattainable, and a whole can of worms that Scotty had been desperately trying not to open.
If his crush on Louis hadn’t been enough, he’d found himself harbouring similar – albeit on a much smaller scale – feelings for some of his other teammates. Alfie, for one, had somehow managed to garner his affections, all baked pies and sweet smiles. He even felt that all too familiar flutter in his chest whenever he was in Callum’s company, knocking their fists together in that macho, boyish way, the sight of the other boy stirring up a bizarre mixture of feelings inside of Scotty that he wished would just disappear. His recent struggles had become an obstacle of sorts, and he constantly found himself distracted in class, zoning out and losing himself in thoughts that he hoped to repress. He wished he could just shove them aside and think about Eloise and her cute little nose, or his upcoming fights, or maybe even focus on whatever complete bullshit Prof. Stevens was spewing to the class in this very moment.
When the bell rang out to signal the end of the class he let out a sigh of relief. Flinging his bag over his shoulder and rushing towards the door, he found himself awkwardly squeezing through impatient students, until he was bumping shoulders with none other than Wardo. Fuck. He had noticed, and tried to ignore, the awkward smile that Wardo had offered him moments before, hoping that if he kept his head down the two of them could just pretend they hadn’t seen the other. But now Wardo was actually talking to him, and he couldn’t really ignore him.
“Huh, yeah, guess it is…” Scotty muttered, grimacing at their pathetic attempt at small talk. He wondered if he could get away, still awkwardly wedged beside the other boy as an onslaught of students shoved their way past them from every direction. When Ivy disappeared from Wardo’s side, Scotty’s stomach lurched as he realised he couldn’t fall back on her as some sort of support. He didn’t actually know her, but she and Wardo seemed pretty tight, and he was pretty sure she’d have a much easier time holding a conversation with the other boy. Craning his neck over the crowd, he watched as the other girl made her way down the hallway, and his eyes widened as he spotted just who happened to be in the direction she was walking.
“Wha- huh?” Scotty frowned at Wardo, barely registering that the other boy was even speaking to him. He was pretty sure he’d just asked him something, his use of the word bro sounding almost like a foreign language as it spilled from the other boy’s lips. Before he could say another word, however, he noticed Wardo’s expression, the twitch of every single muscle as he clenched his jaw. In any other circumstance he’d have scolded himself for paying such close attention to another boy’s features, but this time it was entirely necessary. There was no missing the rage in Wardo’s eyes, and Scotty shot a look over his shoulder, nerves flaring up in him as he wondered if Grant had tried to touch Ivy.
Much to Scotty’s relief, Ivy seemed entirely oblivious to the scene surrounding her. While it didn’t instil much faith in him to see the hungry way with which Morley was eyeing her, he wasn’t sure even Grant was stupid enough to do anything with so many people around, and certainly not to the same girl he had already been accused of attacking. Wardo, it appeared, was not having the same thoughts as Scotty, and the boxer barely noticed him surge forward, glimpsing the rapid way that he moved out of the corner of his eye. Damn it. Not only had he been eager to get the fuck out of class, but he had a free period afterwards too, and now it was about to be wasted on holding back Martinelli’s dumbass from a fight. Holding back the boy who was dating the boy you had a crush on. Fuckin’ tragic.
“Aw, hell naw,” Scotty groaned. Reaching a hand out, he firmly grasped onto the back of Wardo’s – or rather Louis’ – letterman, bunching the fabric into his fist as he yanked the other boy backwards. Wardo was huge, he’d give him that, but so was Scotty, and the combination of boxing and football meant that he had to pride himself in his own strength, a strength that was definitely coming in handy right now.
When Wardo snapped at him, annoyance plain on his face, Scotty rolled his eyes, before tightening his grip on Wardo’s jacket. He wasn’t going anywhere. The last time Wardo had had an encounter with Morley the entire fuckin’ city of Wellington had known about it, and the other idiot American almost hadn’t made it out alive. While Scotty was fairly sure that Louis and Wardo were going solid, he wasn’t sure his old teammate would still wanna be friends with the guy who stood by and let his boyfriend get beaten to a pulp.
“Bro, naw. Morley’s a dirtbag, but you ain’t gon’ go over there and hit the jackass,” he groaned, never loosening his grip on Wardo’s jacket. Staring over the other boy’s shoulder, he noticed that Ivy was still oblivious to what was happening around her, and he felt grateful for that fact alone. He’d heard enough about her to know she could probably – definitely? – kick Morley’s ass if necessary, but she was small, and she didn’t need a gang of sleazes closing in on her. Scotty had no qualms about marching over there himself and breaking Morley’s face, but he wasn’t about to let Wardo get kicked out of University.
“I ain’t ‘bout to watch you get your ass handed to you again, aight?” he said, pulling Wardo further down the corridor, and shoving him lightly against a row of lockers.
The eyeroll that Scotty gave him did nothing to calm Wardo’s temper, only fuelling him even more. The other guy was acting like Wardo was overreacting, but it wasn’t his best friend being eyed up like a piece of meat. Under Cecily’s influence, Wardo had been taught that, on most occasions, violence wasn’t the answer. His older yet timid sister acted as a voice of reason whenever Wardo’s temper got the better of him and he wanted to let his fists fly, but he was pretty sure that even CJ, as diplomatic as she was on any given day, would be willing to turn a blind eye if Wardo finally got his own back on Grant fucking Morley.
With a huff, Wardo strained against Scotty’s hold on him, wishing he hadn’t previously had the bright idea of buttoning up Louis’ varsity jacket. If he had left it open, it would be easy for him to free his arms from the sleeves and wriggle away from Scotty. As it was, he was trapped as Scotty hauled him further down the hallway.
As scrappy and quick as Wardo could be with years of living on the street on his side, Scotty was ultimately taller and more muscular and spent his days pummelling a punching bag before running off to tackle other guys in the name of scoring a goal or basket or whatever the fuck it was Louis called it.
“Scotty, let go,” he hissed at the other boy, knowing he was making a scene but showing little concern for that. When had Wardo Martinelli, of all people, ever been bothered about attracting attention to himself?
He let out an undignified ‘oof!’ as Scotty pushed him up against a row of lotters, the metal rattling behind him. He pinched his face in anger and shoved at Scotty’s chest.
“I said let go,” he warned Scotty. The boxer’s hold remained strong though so Wardo tried a different tactic.
“What if that was Laura he was eyeing up, huh? Or Lydia?” he tried, only for his expression to turn offended at Scotty’s words.
“I won’t get my ass handed to me,” he argued, feeling more than confident about his chances this time. Grant couldn’t hide behind his little gang again, which meant that his ass was Wardo’s for the taking, only in a less homoerotic way than that sounded.
At once, Wardo pulled at the front of Louis’ jacket, the buttons popping so he could rip it open like some sort of underwhelming Superman. At once, he shrugged it off and immediately ducked under Scotty’s arm.
“Better luck next time, Rocky,” he called out over his shoulder before running in Grant’s direction, failing to notice little Evie Diggory opening up her locker as he did so. As she pulled the door open, Wardo failed to stop himself in time, his face bashing painfully against the metal as Evie let out a loud shriek.
“Shit! Fuck!” Wardo cursed, clutching at his face and staggering backwards.
“Don’t you dare laugh,” he demanded, swinging a warning finger in what he figured was Scotty’s general direction.
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