Detour - 3. Chapter 3

BLAIR POV

Although the Mondegreen Country Club boasted several restaurants and bars, the only option available to them turned out to be La Sirena, which so happened to be the only eatery that did not enforce a dress code. For men, “collared shirts, long trousers, jackets, or shorts of walking length” turned out to be a common requirement in the dining areas. Although they did not break any of the dress codes listed — “tattered jeans, tattered shirts, crop tops, mini-shorts, and miniskirts not permitted” — Wes and James chose La Sirena, in support of its refusal to pander to country club hauteur.

The morning consisted of James and Wes taking Blair on a tour around Mondegreen. Their first stop had been the club’s private marina. As though it were the easiest thing in the world, Wes rented a small sailboat for them to hang out in. They spent most of the morning at sea, until Wes tried to topple over the boat, after which James yelled that if they got kicked out again, he’d make sure this time Wes would never be allowed back in.

Though it’d taken Blair a while to warm up to all sorts of activities with people he barely knew, the whole endeavor turned out to be a lot more fun than he expected. Wes talked enough so he didn’t have to, and neither seemed to mind Blair’s reticence or the fact that he wasn’t rich like they were.

The lunch discussion at La Sirena, a little restaurant with outdoor seating, consisted of various topics, from relationship drama among students to various scandals involving Edgewood’s staff members. Wes provided all of the gossip. In between bites of a shrimp appetizer, he told Blair about the middle school dean, Mr. Brimwell, whose account on sugar-baby apps got dug up by some students. He also mentioned that the head of admissions, Mrs. Sullivan, had a pretty nasty divorce going on; over the summer vacation, she found her husband in bed with one of their neighbors.

Since Mondegreen was near the beach, all the restaurants there centered around seafood. The menu at La Sirena listed expensive salmon, king crabs, lobsters, and fish he’d never even heard of before. Earlier, Wes assured them that everything would be on him, since it was his idea to go there in the first place, but Blair still felt weird about ordering a $40 meal.

“He’s an asshole,” James said, his voice taking on a firm tone that seemed oddly out-of-character for him, even though they’d just met that day. Blair, who’d been lost in thought for the past hour, was suddenly pulled back to earth. “I told the guidance counselor last semester to make sure I don’t get put in any classes with him. Apparently I’m the fifth person to tell them that.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. Fuck him,” Wes said, seeming suddenly invigorated. “We’ve got a new student now.”

He raised an eyebrow at Blair.

“I hope we haven’t scared you away with all the stories,” Wes said, his face breaking out into a grin.

Blair laughed. “Are you kidding? Apparently at my local high school, they caught kids doing cocaine in the bathroom.”

James blanched. “Seriously?”

Wes just laughed. “That’s nothing. That happens whenever the Model UN kids meet.”

Somehow, impossibly, James managed to turn even paler. “What?! But I was thinking of joining Model UN.”

“Oh, Jimmy,” Wes said, sighing. “You really need to pay attention to what happens in school. It could save your life.”

James covered his face and Wes laughed.

“I have to join a club team,” James whispered. “I told my dad I’d do Model UN. It was the only way he’d get off my back about joining the economics club.”

“Oh, the economics club is full of assholes,” Wes said. “It’s all nepo kids who just take over the family business as soon as they graduate. No offense, James.”

“No, you’re right. We are assholes.”

“You have a family business?” Blair asked.

“Sinclair Inc.,” James sighed, as though the fact had been weighing on him his entire life.

At that moment, the waitress approached their table, asking if they were ready to order. After pointing out a basic shrimp plate, the cheapest meal on the menu, Blair took that moment to check his phone. Since they first sat down, his phone hadn't stopped buzzing.

alex: dude, i tried to look up the country club and this is the message i got

alex: “the owner has set restrictions that prevent you from accessing this site”

alex: IM TOO POOR TO EVEN OPEN THE WEBSITE

alex: i feel like a literal peasant being told im not allowed to look the king in the eye

blair: maybe you’re on a list. wouldn’t be the first time.

blair: look up the marina here you need to see what it looks like

alex: no. i won’t. im scared ill get executed

blair: but its so cool

alex: says its the best country club in the entire east coast so ya

blair: if I get invited again I’m definitely bringing u along

alex: only way im getting in there is if some sugar daddy needs a yacht boy

Laughing, Blair placed his phone back down. When he looked up, he saw both James and Wes staring at him.

“Um, what?”

“Nothing,” Wes said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ve been grinning at your phone for the past five minutes. You didn’t even notice the waitress trying to ask you if you wanted more water.”

“Leave him alone, Wes,” James said. “Some people actually have friends. Unlike you.”

“Unprovoked?!” Wes exclaimed in mock-offense.

“Sorry about that,” Blair said, a little embarrassed. “So, um, economics club. James and I were trying to figure out what people even do there.”

“Play soggy biscuit,” Wes said, as though it were obvious.

James choked on a fry. Blair had to wonder how these two managed to stay friends for so long, since Wes seemed fully capable of killing the poor kid every other second.

“So,” Wes said. His voice had taken on a deceptively innocent tone, one that reminded him of Alex whenever he was about to say something annoying. “Who were you texting? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?”

Now it was Blair’s turn to choke. “What?”

“Yeah,” Wes said, frowning a little.

“Um, no. Not a boyfriend.” The idea of Alex being his boyfriend made his entire face go hot, but the feelings it evoked were anything but clear.

“You don’t have a problem with that, do you?” Wes asked.

“What?” Blair said. “No, of course not.“

“All right.” Wes aimlessly poked an uneaten shrimp on his plate. “Sorry. I guess that was too personal to ask, anyway.”

“You’re good.” Why was he still blushing?

Wes shrugged, his face contrite as he focused on adjusting one of the rings on his fingers. “Sorry. Sometimes it’s hard to tell when a reaction is meant to be mean or not. I just really hate meeting someone who seems cool at first and then finding out they’re homophobic. And they’re never happy about accidentally making a gay friend either.”

Oh. It took a moment to register, but when it did, Blair found himself staring at Wes as though something had changed. Obviously, he knew it hadn’t. He’d never had any sort of biases towards others, so it wasn’t anything like that. Something, however, kept nudging at him. He turned his attention to his drink.

“I get it,” Blair replied, because he wasn’t sure what else to say.

“I forgot to say that the more clubs you join, the better it looks on college apps. That’s what my dad always says. We should find something together,” James said. He turned to Blair. “Um, you said you’re joining Mock Trial, right?”

“Oh yeah?” Wes smiled. “You wanna be a lawyer?”

“Yep,” Blair said. “Criminal defense.”

“Wow. That’s really intense. I don’t even know what I wanna do after college,” Wes said. “The thing is, if you wanna get into an Ivy League, you have to figure it out now. It’s so stupid. They look at all your grades and extracurriculars since freshman year, and they want to see that you’ve had goals your whole life. My parents want me to go to Columbia just like they did.”

“Mine want me to go to Yale,” James said, sighing. “That’s where my dad went.”

Just like that, the two burst into a ranty conversation about elite colleges that their parents and grandparents and great-grandparents all went to, and all the paid tutoring and extracurriculars they needed - though not as much, Wes casually mentioned at some point, as non-legacies at least.

As the conversation lumbered on, he’d grown increasingly self-aware, and maybe even ashamed. Ashamed of his normal life and the boring little town he’d grown up in, the fact that he currently wore clothes he’d bought in regular stores instead of luxury malls.

Shame. He’d never really felt ashamed of these things before, but now he felt like a literal peasant, like Alex had said earlier. But instead of being executed for looking at the king, he’d been invited to watch him dine and talk about his quaint little life.

For a brief, bitter moment, he wondered if he’d been adopted as some kind of pet by these rich kids, like they’d wanted some pitiful commoner that’d gaze upon them with awe. After a moment of reevaluation, he admonished himself for being so harsh. Wes and James didn’t ask to be born into this lifestyle; it was all they’d known. They weren’t malicious or boastful at all. In fact, they'd treated Blair like an old friend this whole time, inviting him to meals and rented boats without asking for anything in return.

Blair’s phone vibrated on the table. Snapping back to reality, he slowly reached over to check his messages. He felt weirdly trapped by the various stories about the students at Edgewood, and how strangely alien the world of the super-rich seemed. Having been so engrossed in the discussion, he’d almost forgotten the mundane details of his own regular life.

alex: I tried to grab a beer and matt slapped my hand so hard it gave me carpal tunnel syndrome

alex: call CPS!!!!!! trying to save a beer for you rn

He smiled. Alex's messages felt like a breath of fresh air. He couldn’t wait to run back and tell him everything, all about these kids with private islands, a country club with an airport for private jets, and stupid scandals that’d make even Dom blush.

He’d been so swept up in the novelty of it all, anchored only by the stress of leaving Alex behind, that he hadn't even considered his possible reputation as a scholarship student at Edgewood. Edgewood Prep, one of the most prestigious academies in the United States, promised academic success and college acceptances on its website; it never, in any way, hinted at the fact that it was primarily an institution for rearing the children of the wealthy. Blair never gave any thought to it. Until now.

It was 5:00 p.m by the time Blair realized he was late.

After they finished lunch, Wes and James took Blair to tour the sports at Mondegreen. They played golf as a joke, annoying the other club-goers with their terrible playing and loud dramatics every time they lost. Then they played tennis, which Wes turned out to be pretty good at. Before he knew it, Blair had spent the entire afternoon jumping from sport to sport, never once taking a moment to check his phone.

Matt’s party started two hours ago. And it’d take another hour to get back. Supposedly, the party ended after 7, since Matt had to leave for the airport on Sunday. But Matt and his friends were technically college students. They’d probably stay up all night. He still had time, right?

Blair texted Harrie to pick him up, and thirty minutes later, was still waiting outside the country club for her to arrive. She’d been weirdly open-minded about Blair skipping orientation to go to a country club. Apparently, being a goody-goody your whole life made adults more open to letting you make irresponsible choices.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Blair,” Wes said, and immediately cringed. “God, I sounded just like my father when I said that. Ignore that. What’s your Insta?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Snapchat?”

“Nope. I have Facebook, but I don’t use it.”

“Facebook,” Wes said, staring at Blair like he was an alien. He just shook his head. “You’re… How? Even my parents- Never mind. Let’s just exchange numbers, then.”

When Blair pulled out his phone, he saw a dozen unopened texts from Alex. They were all voice-messages, and they were all minutes long. That was unusual. Did something happen at the party, or was Alex upset he was running late?

At that moment, Harrie pulled up to the curb. Bidding the other boys goodbye, he hurried to get in, phone still in hand.

“Had fun?” Harrie asked while waving at James and Wes.

“Yeah,” Blair said, texting Alex an apology for running so late. As soon as he’d finished typing out the sentence, all the voice messages disappeared, each one now replaced with a line stating, “Alex removed a message.”

He frowned. He literally could not think of a single time Alex ever deleted a message, no matter how weird it was. Maybe it’d be better to call instead of just apologizing via text.

Taking out his earbuds, Blair set his phone on his lap and called him. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too big a deal that he was running late. One of Blair’s earliest memories of Alex was hearing him complain about how much he hated his big brother, a complaint that never changed for the seven years following that. The only allure the party seemed to offer Alex, anyway, was access to alcohol. Blair didn’t care about drinking, so there wouldn’t be much for him to do there.

Alex answered just when the ringback tone was about to end.

“Hey,” Blair said. “What were those messages you just sent?”

Alex inhaled sharply. Muffled in the background, party music blared.

“Alex? You there?”

Blair stared down at the phone. Alex’s profile picture stared back at him.

“Hello? Alex?” He waited and heard nothing. “Are you mad at me for being late?”

Alex laughed. It sounded completely unlike him. Cold and ugly. “What do you think?”

It took a moment to recover from the strange tone. Was Alex genuinely upset with him over this? Not that Blair would blame him for it at all, but Alex sounded so off, like something even worse had happened.

“I’m really sorry, dude,” Blair said quietly.. “I didn’t put a reminder on my phone or anything. I got completely side-tracked. I didn’t even realize it was getting late.”

“Yeah, sure.”

For a moment, they didn’t speak.

Blair glanced at Harrie. She was doing a really good job of acting like she didn’t hear him. “Are you … okay?”

“Yep.”

“Did Matt let you …” Blair trailed off. The silence returned, heavier this time. They’d never had a moment like this before. He didn’t know what to do.

“No. He didn’t let me.”

“I’m sorry,” Blair repeated. “I’m really sorry. There’s no excuse. I said I’d be there and then I didn’t show up. I know you’re mad at me. I don’t blame you.”

“I’m not mad,” Alex said. “I care as much as you do - don’t. Clearly.”

“Alex…”

Something apparently snapped. “You were supposed to be here. And you promised you’d be here. You… you didn’t even text! I literally thought something bad happened to you, but then I texted Harrie, and she said you were fine. You didn’t even text me to say you were running late, because you don’t even care.”

The more he spoke, the worse he sounded. Each word came out slurred and tangled together. Alex could hardly string together his sentences.

“You’re drunk,” Blair said quietly.

“So fucking what? That doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t show up. Sorry I’m not cool enough or… country club material. Or Edgewood material. Sorry I’m such a loser.”

“You’re not a loser, Alex, I meant to come—”

“Oh yeah? What did you do today, huh? Besides golf. Did you ride around in a yacht? Compare maids? Go shopping for ugly polos and neon shorts?”

“I’m sorry. There’s no excuse.”

“Oh, okay. No excuse. You didn’t show up because you didn’t want to show up. Is that it? Just say that.”

“That’s definitely not it.”

“Whatever.”

“Really, Alex. I’m sorry. I fucked up, I know. Please let me make it up to you.”

“No,” Alex muttered. “I was waiting here for you. And you were at a country club. With shitty parking and poor customer service. And I got into a fight with Matt, and he yelled at me, and he said that everything's my fault. Whatever. If you don’t like me, just tell me instead of lying about wanting to be friends.”

“That’s not it, Alex.” Blair didn’t say anything for a while. “I’m on the way there,” he said finally, slowly. “Let’s talk in person.”

“I don’t want to,” Alex said. “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. Don’t bother showing up.”

“Do you have someone there to help you?”

“Is that Blair?” Dom’s voice was hard to make out at first, but then he apparently got close to the phone, because soon he was yelling in Blair’s ear. “Dude, where the hell are you? Bring some private schoolgirls over here!

The other side of the call went completely silent for a moment. Once Alex unmuted, it sounded like he’d moved to a completely different location. Blair could hardly hear the music now.

“I really hate you sometimes,” Alex said. “And I should.”

“I know.”

“But I don’t. I never could,” Alex said. “I like you so much. It’s so stupid.”

“Yeah, I like you, too,” Blair said, sighing. How were you even supposed to talk to a drunk person anyway? Alex sounded unrecognizable and he was even harder to reason with than usual.

“No,” Alex insisted. “I really like you.”

Blair just sighed again. They’d have to revisit this conversation as soon as Alex was sober. “Yeah, yeah. I really like you too.”

“I fuck everything up,” Alex mumbled.

“Huh?”

Alex didn’t respond.

“Alex, what are you saying?” Blair asked, now unable to hide the concern in his voice.

“Whatever. Fuck it. Don’t come by today. Just leave me alone.”

Alex hung up. Blair sat there, confused and sick to his stomach, ignoring the worried glances Harrie sent his way.

Fuck.

ALEX POV

“I just don’t get it,” Alex said, trying very hard not to slur his words the way drunk people do. Unlike Dom, he’d taken too long to get through each can, and apart from the buzz in his legs, he felt relatively normal. “It’s not him. He wouldn’t just ditch an orientation thing to go to a country club.”

“What’s a country club?” Dom’s words all slurred together so terribly Alex needed to lean closer to hear him, which wasn’t easy, considering Dom kept swaying.

“Edgewood’s got all the archives he wants to see. The library. The stupid trial courtroom. He loves mock trial. It’s so weird. He loves Criminal Minds. He always makes me watch it with him.”

“Is it like… a cowboy thing?”

“But he ditched all of that to go to a country club! Why would he do that?! It’s like I don’t even know him anymore. Sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a completely different person. I mean, he’s been working so hard all his life for this. All those interviews and tests for Edgewood and…”

All these attempts to crawl out of the hellhole circles they grew up in, all these years of obsession over academia, could be so easily undone by the temptation of a rich friend and some fancy little golf courses. Not Alex, plain and stupid, waiting at a party back in the neighborhood Blair was destined to outgrow. That was the point of going to a place like Edgewood, wasn’t it?

I hate him. But he also didn’t. Deep under the hate that now burned in him, there was that pathetic love, still waiting. Still hoping. That visceral pain had returned, the type of literal heartache that seemed to plague him so often these days.

What was the point in this friendship? He kept clinging onto something bound for death, like it meant anything anymore.

“Dude,” Dom said. He’d been staring at Alex’s lava lamp for a concerning amount of time, but now turned to face him. “Stop whining about Blair.”

“Yeah,” Alex said numbly.

Dom swung an arm around him and tried to squeeze him closer, but all he managed to do was stumble. “Yeah, dunno why you invited him to a party. Of course he wasn’t gonna show up. The cowboy shit’s weird though. I don’t get it either.”

Alex glanced at Dom, who looked on the verge of falling over. That was the level of drunk he wanted to be on. Clueless and ranting about stupid topics. Wasn’t alcohol supposed to make you forget about things?

“I want to do shots,” Alex said suddenly, tossing the now-empty can onto his desk. “I heard Matt talk to Dad about borrowing shot glasses. We have to be careful Matt doesn’t see us, but they definitely got vodka or something downstairs.”

Predictably, Dom lit up.

It was a mistake bringing sober Dom on any mission that required stealth and silence. And yet, for reasons unknown to Alex, he’d decided to bring Dom as he was now, unable to speak, much less walk, even with the crowds of people downstairs to detract attention from them.

Maybe he was drunker than he thought.

He had no experience with alcohol. Everything he knew came from Dom, since Dom’s brothers let him drink to guarantee he wouldn't snitch about parties or girls. As a result, Dom considered himself a liquor sommelier. As they snuck around the house, Dom kept blabbering about how vodka shots were the best way to get drunk and how he couldn’t wait to go to college, especially to get away from his brothers.

Usually, the lack of self-awareness from Dom annoyed him at times like these, but he couldn’t bring himself to care now. He was having a hard time being stealthy himself. The world kept shifting and turning all around him, faster than he could keep up with. It was like being on a rollercoaster, only he barely had to move to experience the whirlwind of images and movement around him. His legs kept buzzing for some reason.

At this point in the night, almost everyone had left. The blaring music had quieted down to something casual. Only a few voices remained now, and they were all outside. As they walked into the kitchen, where all the alcohol was being stored on the table, Alex could see the silhouettes of people moving around through the screen door.

That was a good thing. Mostly. While Matt was outside and unable to hear them, he could still walk in at any moment and spot them. They needed to be quick.

“Keep an eye on the door,” Alex said. Immediately, Dom turned to face the door, which made him nearly stumble into the fridge.

Sighing, Alex hurried to the table and tried to read the label on each of the bottles. It would’ve been a lot easier if each letter didn’t keep blurring together with how fast he kept moving.

“I don’t think it’s a problem, dude,” Dom said, still laughing at his own clumsiness. “We’re just picking up something really quick. You’re so paranoid, dude.”

“Just watch the door!” Alex hissed, lifting up a bottle to read the label. It was a Smirnoff bottle, decorated with a bright purple design. Pink Lemonade. Every time the bottle moved, Alex could see the rosy liquid swishing inside. Although he’d never tasted vodka before, the thought of combining hard liquor and tangy lemonade seemed like a vomiting episode waiting to happen.

“Just blackmail him, dude. Oh God, you gotta hear what I caught Levi-”

“Yeah, great, we can talk about it later. Let’s just go.”

Alex wrapped his hands around the cold neck of the bottle and started striding out of the kitchen. He turned the corner just in time to see Joshua - no, Matt walking towards him. For the briefest second, his heart had nearly stopped. It’d been a result of the poorly lit hallway and Alex’s inability to see clearly.

He really was drunk. God, why did those two have to look so alike?

They stood in silence for a moment. Matt stared at him, and then at the bottle in hand.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Matt said, sounding very unimpressed. He was clutching his own phone like it owed him money.

“I haven’t even had anything to drink,” Alex replied, right as Dom crashed into his back.

“I thought I told you guys not to get too drunk tonight,” Matt continued, ignoring Alex’s preemptive defense. “Do you realize how dangerous it is to get this drunk for the first time?”

“We aren’t drunk,” Alex said, right as Dom piped up with, “It’s not my first time.”

Matt just stared. For some reason, Alex couldn’t force himself to focus on the details of his expression. Everything was too poorly lit and blurry.

“Put the vodka away,” Matt said.

“No. Shut up. Why do you even fucking care if I drink? You drink. I know you’ve been drinking since you were my age,” Alex said.

“I’m not about to get into this right now.” Matt pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. Blair has been calling my phone nonstop asking about you.”

Blair. A sharp pang of pain jolted through him. Just like that, Alex’s whole body went cold.

“I don’t give a fuck. Just block him.” He pushed past Matt.

“He’s outside,” Matt said. Alex stopped. “Tell him the party’s already over. My friends are about to head out and I gotta start cleaning up.”

Alex inhaled sharply and tightened his grip on the bottle. Something crashed behind him, but he didn’t turn around to see what it was.

“And get Dom’s brothers to pick him up,” Matt said, sounding defeated now.

For a moment, Alex just stood there, swaying back and forth. Strangely, the knowledge that Blair was out there filled him with a dread he’d never associated with him before. His head pounded. Everything he’d wanted to say earlier slipped out of his mind. He didn’t want to see him. He didn’t want to talk to him, not now.

How could Blair just decide to show up now? Somehow, that was worse than never showing up at all. This must’ve been out of pity, or maybe Blair was just making a brief appearance to keep stringing Alex along like Alex even mattered to him. Or he probably just couldn’t wait to tell his pathetic, constant audience all about the country club and all his new friends.

Alex set the phone on a nearby coffee table and stormed out the front door. A cold gust of night air hit him. He was going to hurl any minute now. He could feel it coming. The world blurred at the edges, and everything took the form of a vague shape, and he could already taste bile on his tongue.

Harrie’s car had pulled up in front of the house. Blair stood right by it, like he didn’t even want to go up to the door. He just expected Alex to walk all the way to him instead. What a perfect metaphor.

Alex walked down the steps leading to the door but refused to move any further. He could barely hear the music now. Blair seemed to hesitate, but he finally walked up to Alex.

“Hey,” Blair said.

“Hey.” He made sure the word sounded as venomous as he felt.

Again, Blair hesitated. He kept searching Alex’s eyes. “I’m really, really sorry, dude. Like I said, there’s no excuse. I didn’t know how-”

“The party’s over,” Alex interrupted.

“Yeah. I’m really sorry. I just… Harrie’s been so worried about me making friends at this school, so I didn’t want to say no to - well, it’s not her fault, obviously, but I thought I should try to force myself to make friends. And we ended up spending all day there because… Well, that doesn’t matter. The ride back was even longer than Edgewood-”

“I don’t care.” Alex turned on his heel, but the movement was too sudden for his hangover-addled mind to handle. He stopped, wincing at the sudden headache that came on.

“Alex, please.” Blair’s voice, usually so comforting, just grated at his ears now. “I really am sorry. It wasn’t supposed to take that long! Harrie-”

“I already said I don’t care!”

“Alex-”

“Stop! Just stop, my god,” Alex snapped. It didn’t matter how badly the force of it hurt his head. “You know what? I’m so sick of this. I don’t want to hear you talk. I don’t want you to say anything, or apologize, or feel sorry for yourself. I don’t care anymore! Everything’s always about you, isn’t it?”

Finally, he turned around. Blair looked genuinely surprised, and even hurt. Usually, the idea of hurting Blair would’ve seared through Alex’s own heart like the pain was his own. Now, it didn’t feel like anything. It just angered him further.

“Everyone always fucking babies you. It’s disgusting. You don’t realize just how lucky you are, you know. You’ve got all these people around you to coddle you when you’re upset. I only have you! You blew me off the moment I needed you! You didn’t even pretend to care!”

Blair’s brows furrowed, like this confused him somehow. But at last, at least, he was silent.

“I don’t know why I bother.” Alex’s breath hitched a little.

God, don’t start crying. You don’t even have the excuse of being drunk anymore.

He turned away so Blair wouldn’t see the tears forming, and in the corner of his eyes, he could see Matt watching them through the window.

“I put so much into our friendship and you never do anything for me. You’re always just distant these days. You’ve been acting so fucking weird around me. I keep thinking I must be crazy or something, like I’m seeing things that aren’t there, and I keep making excuses for you. And then the second you can, you just drop me.”

“Alex, I’m sorry.” The apology no longer sounded sorrowful, it sounded concerned and careful, like someone trying to soothe a cornered animal. That was a tone Alex heard for years, but never from Blair. “I’m not going to make excuses. I swear if I knew you needed me here, I would’ve shown up. I was just - Something happened, I don’t know, it’s just… I can’t explain it even if I wanted to. I don’t know what’s been wrong with me lately.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t care, believe it or not. You’re tired of me, and you’re too much of a fucking coward to just say it. You don’t want to be friends anymore. Just fucking say it! You’d rather just force yourself to stay here, like I can’t tell you hate me now!”

“I don’t hate you!” Blair was raising his voice. Alex couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard Blair raise his voice. “God, Alex, how can you even think that? Because I messed up? That’s my fault for being an asshole. It doesn’t mean I hate you.”

“Everything’s different now.” Alex grit his teeth. “I can tell. I know everyone thinks I’m an idiot, but I’m not. You’ve been acting different.”

Something flickered in Blair’s eyes. For a second, there was a strange look there Alex couldn’t decipher. But then, almost instantly, he’d retreated into himself. The stoic expression was back.

“It’s not because I hate you,” Blair said, and his tone was entirely too careful now. “I just have a lot of things on my mind.”

The brief explosion of agony and rage started to calm into something tired and sad. Matt no longer stood at the window. He was going to hurl any minute now. He could feel it coming. The world blurred at the edges, and everything took the form of a vague shape, and he could already taste bile on his tongue.

“Alex.” Blair looked strange again. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“Whatever. I don’t want to keep doing this.” He bit his tongue and thought for a moment. “Maybe we shouldn’t be friends anymore.”

Blair was silent.

“It’s just not working out,” Alex said. “I mean… Fine, maybe I’m the problem. Maybe there’s something about me that makes you feel like you can’t be honest about not wanting to be friends anymore. If you hate me - fuck, if you’ve just lost interest, that’s fine, but clearly I have to make the decision for you. So there’s no point in trying to force something. And we’re going to different schools now, anyway.”

For some reason, all emotionality had been stripped from him. Now, he just felt cold. He turned to walk back to the house, where an empty home awaited. No more partygoers, no more alcohol, no more music. Everyone had gone home, eager to start new lives at new colleges soon where future soulmates and core memories awaited them.

He didn’t want to see whatever expression Blair was making. The silence was answer enough, anyway.