Give Me Back My Prompts - 3. 550 - Unrequited

“There is no way I’m wearing that!”

“Why not?”

Max snorted at his best friend, and turned away.

“Because it’s two sizes too small, and it’s blue.”

“What wrong with blue?” Ivan sighed unhappily as he hung the shirt back on the rack.

“Our school uniform is blue. It’s a party, Ivan! I can’t just show up looking like I would on any other day.”

Ivan stuck his hands into his pockets, and followed his friend from the store and back into the main throng of the shopping centre.

“I always think you look good in our uniform,” he muttered to himself.

He knew there was no point really voicing his opinion, because he’d tried to tell Max once before and been shot down so fast it had made his head spin. For the better part of the last year, he’d been content to simply hang out with the hottest guy he’d ever met, who also happened to be his greatest friend, and one of the nicest people on the planet, knowing he probably wouldn’t get the tender moment he’d so often longed for.

Content, that is, until Carl Evans had shown up like the sunrise, and stolen all of Max’s attention. Carl Evans wasn’t just the shiny new boy; he was also gorgeous, smart, polite, funny, clever, artistic, sporty, conscientious, kind, relaxed, and really nice to everyone he met. He’d arrived and become everyone’s favourite student, pupils and staff alike, and already Ivan figured his report card would be physically glowing with the weight of the praise piled upon it. No one hated Carl Evans, because he was nice to everyone.

Everyone except Ivan.

Carl was all sweetness and light in front of Max and their friends, laughed and joked, praised successes and commiserated setbacks, but every time he looked at Ivan, he sneered. The few times they’d been alone together, Carl had ignored him, dismissed his questions, and left as quickly as he could.

The idea of watching the boy he loved spend the evening mooning over the two-faced newcomer was less than appealing. Ivan knew he could just not-go, but not knowing was worse than anything else, and anyway, the excuse to spend a shopping trip with Max was too good to pass up.

Ivan didn’t buy any new clothes, but picked up a cool enamelled keychain in the shape of the red lion from the new look Voltron cartoon, and followed Max around the mall until his best friend finally settled on mustard yellow chinos and a blood-red button down shirt which actually complimented his skin tone really well.

Then he went home, showered, and watched strange anime he wasn’t sure he understood all too well until it was time to go to the party.

Ever since they’d all turned sixteen, most of the parents of his social group at quietly decided that small gatherings of mixed-gender kids couldn’t go too badly wrong if everyone was stuffed with enough pizza and crisps, and the only alcohol available was beer or cider which wasn’t too strong. Ivan knew his parents trusted him, and like a lot of his friends who’d spent the previous ten years or so being generally nice kids, he didn’t want to abuse that trust too much.

He met Max at the end of his road, and they walked together through the park and into the new and rather fancy housing development which had been built on the Northern edge of town. There was no point hoping Carl Evans wouldn’t be there: he was the most popular guy in school… and it was his house Ivan found himself standing outside, thumbs jammed in his pockets, wishing for the millionth time he’d just stayed home.

It was a teenage party like any other, and after an hour or so Ivan found himself perched on the arm of a sofa, the body of which was taken up by three girls editing selfies and checking on their Instagram profiles, half a glass of cheap but drinkable cider in one hand, watching Max flirt. Since the moment they’d walked in, Max hadn’t looked anywhere else but at Carl, and Ivan hadn’t looked anywhere but at Max looking at Carl.

Ivan wondered what it would be like to be the subject of that adoring gaze. Max had looked at him and smiled plenty of times, they’d been friends for a couple of years after all, but it was nothing like the way he was looking at Carl Evans. Every angle of his body was inviting, his smile sparkled, his eyes shone, and his laugh made Ivan’s stomach flip and flutter. Carl laughed and joked with Max, stood close to him as they leant with one shoulder each against the far wall, and Ivan felt like he was watching the best part of his life slip away from the other side of a TV screen. It was like a movie, Ivan was helpless to stop the scene as it played out in front of him. Max leant forward and whispered something, Carl chuckled, and when relaxed back he was blushing.

Ivan drained the rest of his cider, left the cup on an end table, and wandered off to find a bathroom. The house was a strange shape with a octagonal tower on one corner, and Ivan got himself slightly lost before locating a tiled room with a toilet on the third floor. He washed up, ran damp fingers through his hair, and backed out of the bathroom and into someone.

“Sorry!”

“What are you doing up here?” Carl’s voice was hard, and his hand gripped Ivan’s shoulder just as firmly as he turned him around. “Oh, it’s you. Hey….”

Ivan frowned and shrugged out of Carl’s grip.

“I was just using the bathroom. I’m gonna go now.”

“Wait.”

Carl grabbed his arm again as Ivan started toward the stairs and found himself pulled back against the other boy’s chest. He glared at Carl.

“What ar-?”

Ivan didn’t finish his sentence, because Carl pulled him close and kissed him. He was warm and soft, and tasted liked apples. Ivan stilled, stunned, then pulled away as his brain caught up with the sensation against his lips.

“What the fuck, Carl?”

“Jeez but I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you.”

Ivan stepped back, half tripped down two steps, and glared up at the other boy. He hated feeling short, even though he was shorter than Carl by a few inches, and he bounced back up to the third floor with a frown.

“But you hate me. And Max….”

“Max is like a love-struck puppy.” Carl rolled his eyes and huffed.

Ivan pushed him.

“Don’t say that,” Ivan snapped. He dragged his knuckles across his mouth, and for a split second felt again the impact of Carl’s lips, the sweetness of him. He clenched a fist. How dare the boy he hated take his first kiss like that? “Max is the best.”

“You love him, don’t you?”

Ivan practically snarled.

“You do. Fuck….” Carl slumped back against the wall with a heavy sigh. “I knew it. Of all the fucking luck.”

Ivan frowned at the other boy.

He should have left, he should have gone trotting down the stairs and gone home, he should have gone and found Max and convinced him to leave too. But he didn’t. He stood and stared at Carl Evans.

The golden boy who never seemed anything other than confident and happy stood there looking defeated and tired. Ivan couldn’t help wonder why.

Against his better instincts, he stepped forward.

“Carl?”

Ivan could hear the sounds of the party downstairs, music filtering up through the floor, laughing and jokes. Someone somewhere would be suggesting a game of spin the bottle, Ivan was kinda glad he was missing it. Ten minutes ago there was only one person at the party he had wanted to kiss, but now….

“But, you hate me.”

“I never said that.” Carl glanced up under his perfectly styled bangs, his eyes worried and unsure. “You are the one who won’t ever give me the time of day.”

“That’s not true,” Ivan countered quickly.

Carl’s blue eyes narrowed.

“You don’t remember, do you? I asked you for directions to Maths. But you were so busy… you follow Max around like a love-sick puppy too.”

“I do not!” Ivan strode across the hallway and grabbed Carl by the front of his shirt. “Take it back!”

“Alright, I’m sorry.” Carl glanced down at Ivan’s fist. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not that bad.” The other boy exhaled and bit his lip. “But I think you’re really pretty. And you’re funny, an’ nice to everyone who isn’t me.”

“Carl….”

“I’d love to kiss you again.”

“Oh….” Ivan realised he was still holding on to Carl’s shirt front, and standing really very close. “Um….”

“But you’re in love with Max,” Carl sighed. He took Ivan’s fingers in his own and peeled him off his shirt. He held Ivan’s hand for a moment, then slid away along the wall and out of reach. “I’m not gonna hold onto something which ain’t mine.”

“But….”

Carl smiled warmly.

“I’ll be seeing you, Ivan. Have fun.”

Ivan watched Carl Evans pad away down the stairs. He wanted to go find Max, his best friend, and tell him everything which had happened. But there was no way Max would want to hear it. Ivan loved Max, at least, he’d always wanted Max. But now, looking down the stairs where Carl had departed, Ivan felt a funny gnawing feeling growing in his stomach, and he was no longer as sure as he had been when he’d walked into the party about… anything.

Ivan touched his lips, and tried to remember everything about his first kiss. He couldn’t.

As he started down the stairs he knew he wanted to do it again.