I couldn't breathe properly when I was in Desmond's mansion; it wasn't suffocating nor unwelcoming, but the reason was entirely different. Till now, I felt itching and was repulsive with the physical contact but never felt shocked with the mere touch. Now, I am pretty much sure what I felt at the party was a shock, not the usual.
This is new, and I'm unsure whether it's a good shock or a bad one. I couldn't linger with the touch for more than a second, so it must be a bad one. I baited the wrong guy this time. I should have kept my options open and shaken hands with more than one person at the party. Nothing was planned; things just happened, and I was damn pleased, which was rare. This guy is friendly, good, and everything I am looking for to fulfill the deal, but what about the shock? Not once, but twice. I really hoped that in the coming days this friendship would take a turn from a deal to much more. Now, I don't know how to deal with it. I should avoid the physical contact, simple as that, or else bait some other guy. Go through a long procedure of building things with the new guy, and things would never be as easy as they are. Everything is damn easy with the party guy; I should play along with a few gestures. I can work with that. So, no physical contact with him, simply because it will be hard with him in the picture.
"Where were you? Is it almost your lecture time?" I wish I knew what to do with him; the sooner, the better. My dad was in front of me with a stern look. "I am pouring so much into everything; I hope I am not wasting my time. Where were you?" By crossing his hands over his chest, he was expecting an answer, as if he would get one. We stood chest to chest without backing down. He was mumbling something under his breath as the time passed. "I wish I could know what to do with you." I don't know how we always end up on the same page. Something always clicks between us, but in the wrong way. "Try to open that mouth once in a while; don't seal it for God's sake. You will forget how to talk if this is the damn case, you heard me?" He was controlling himself the best, and I just wished to open my mouth and to tell him to mind his own damn business. I can handle myself without opening my damn mouth. "When you swore not to open that mouth of yours, please do me a favor and suffice with what I am pouring on you. Your lecture is going to start any minute; please just get out of my sight." By the time he finished the sentence, I was already halfway toward my room. "You are good at ignoring nothing else; you heard me. Don't slam the damn door; that shit cost me a fortune." I just did that. By locking my life for the day, I was in front of the monitor, glaring at the screen. Sometimes, I wish he would make sense of how the hell a door could cost a fortune to him. He always talks about whatever comes to his mind when he doesn't know how to get back to me. I huffed. The professor had not yet arrived at the screen when the time was 10.05 am; everyone was making sure to turn my day however they wanted.
It was the weekend, and Rowan kept messaging me the whole week, simple greetings and his follow-up questions. Sometimes it really pisses me off when he thinks and calls me a kid in front of everyone. I want to correct the guy, but my age is shutting me down. I don't want any sibling's thing with the guy; my propaganda is only friendship, and I just wish that the guy would give me that for the time being. Maybe if my patience were at bay in the whole process, I would give a lifetime promotion to this so-called friendship.
I ignored his texts for two days; the guy is persistent in his own way, and I gave in by replying to a few texts. He started calling me. I ignored the first few, but he made sure that I attended his call. The guy could talk, like nonstop; in between, he was making sure that I was hearing every one of his words. I didn't mind replying in short and curt, and the guy didn't complain. The way things were going, he was going to make sure that I was talking in a sentence with him and having a long conversation, too. I dread the day.
I was at the location shared by Rowan, and it was a restaurant called 'Honeybee.' I rolled my eyes at the name, a damn cliché one. I hope they are selling the best bee in compensation for my precious time. I was on time, sharp, and waited outside the restaurant.
Rowan arrived 10 minutes late with a few other guys in his Bentley car and others in a Benz. As he saw me, by smiling broadly, he approached me. When he was done with the set of questions, along with saying sorry for being late, we entered along with the other three guys.
We occupied the table, and Rowan made sure he sat beside me, and the word "safe distance" that was in my mind was getting buried deeply. The guy is showing his protective nature; his sibling symptoms are showing up. I swear, if things go this way, I will open my mouth, make sure to speak a few sentences, and shut that nature in him forever. The guy should get the bloody hint I am anything but that thing. I am hardly handling my blood-related father; does he think I am capable of handling this non-blood-related bond? Over my dead body. I will end everything if he doesn't take the hint sooner.
The three guys who sat opposite Rowan and me were staring at me, studying. Rowan ordered something on my behalf, and his friends still couldn't help their eyes. If they keep this up, I'd love to pluck those. "Stop staring; you are irritating him, guys." See, I want this type of communication, and that is the reason why I am stuck with the guy, irrespective of every other thing.
"Who is this fatty?" My head snapped at the guy who dared to mention the word so openly. He was tall, with light muscles, a white tone, and a perfect manicure and pedicure all over. You know what I mean—the guy who primps up too much. "Don't call me that, and he is Dante." "Oh, nice, common fatty, introduce us to him." No one in this group takes a damn hint, I guess. Rowan sighed at him. From the right, he started the introduction. "Marco, Vincent, and Tristan, we know each other from school." Tristan smiled broadly at me. "So, Dante, what are you studying and where?" "He is a kid, Tristan." I sighed for the umpteenth time. He just makes sure to remind me at least once when we are together. "What do you mean?" asked Tristan, with a bewildered look. "He is around 13." He relaxed for some reason. "He is hardly a kid, fatty." Well, someone knows how to treat irrespective of bringing age in between, but the guy should give a break to the word 'fatty.' "Stop calling me that.How many times do I have to say Tristan?" He should have shouted if you ask me, but it came in a low, soft tone. "Come on, nothing wrong with teasing, right?" "Everything is wrong when it's irritating." "Why are you so offended? Take it as a joke; we are friends. A guy could joke, right, Dante?" Is this guy for real? I don't have friends, but I am sure there is a bloody line to everything and should never cross, friends or not. The guy was watching, expecting some answers from me. I was already glaring at the guy, but it turned harder for every reason that he was giving. He gulped, and the others scoffed and chuckled. "It was just a joke, but I guess it's done for the day." Why the hell is Rowan hanging out with this shitty one?
The tension was palpable; no one knew how to remove it, and I should have known not everyone is so obvious and would always dare in this kind of atmosphere, especially Rowan. Rowan turned toward me, smiled broadly, and something skipped in me. I averted my eyes immediately. My breathing was uneven for a few seconds; I tried my best to control the situation. This is new; everything with this guy is new and scary.
Our order arrived; we started having the same in silence. "Is it according to your taste? I told them to add only a teaspoon of sugar to your juice." Rowan watched my face with expectation; I slowly nodded my head in acknowledgement. That smile felt different; everything is so different with him. Does friendship feel this way? I don't bloody think so.
I wanted to enjoy friendship, but I don't know what I am enjoying right now. Slowly, something was peeling between us layer by layer, nothing was adding up, and things were beyond my understanding.
The table was still silent; mummer was going on between the three new guys. "Where is your boy toy Rowan?" Rowan scoffed at that. "Don't call Davis that." "Well?" The guy was further prompted to get the answer. "He is on the way." "I see he doesn't have a sense of time." "Who doesn't have a time sense?" A new guy appeared at our table, clearly in an angry mode. Tristan surrenders his hands. "Just removing the tension in the air, that's it. Please occupy your seat." The new guy, by rolling his eyes, made his way through the table and was in front of me. He could have sat beside Rowan, but he wanted to sit opposite me.
The new guy studied Rowan and me with an equal gaze, and I almost wanted to shrug in return if my goal was not to build friendship but to piss them off. He raised an eyebrow at Rowan. "You remember Dante from the party." Rowan rambled; in return, Davis nodded his head. "Of course, how could I forget the mysterious Morris's family heir?" That was mocking; I don't know why. "Davis," Rowan warned him. "Hey, there are so many rumors about Morris's family, I couldn't help it." With an irritated tone, Rowan spoke. "Shut up." By grumbling, Davis spoke. "Fine. It's a fancy meeting you have here, Dante, and I am surprised." I know, but why? "I invited him." "Oh." Something flickered in Davis's eyes. I couldn't recognize it. "So, this weekend, planned for him?" Davis spoke with a low, sad tone. I wonder why. "Yeah, I want Dante to meet my friends and get to know each other." Davis humorously chuckled. "Why? With everything they owe, nothing is a shortage to him, right?" "I invited him. I am not getting what's wrong in that?" Davis leaned back a little, making himself comfortable. "Well, there's nothing wrong with your sweet intention. It takes two to fulfill your intention, and the guy hasn't uttered a word. He could speak, right?" Provocation, which I am good at, and I don't want anyone beating me. "He doesn't talk much?" Davis chuckled at that. "I wonder why." "It's none of anyone's damn business." Rowan snapped at Davis. "Oh, oh, what's gotten into you?" "That should be my damn question. What's wrong with you? If he is not interested in talking, so be it. Why are you bloody pointing it out?" By surrendering his hands, he mumbled the word. "Sorry?" That word came for the sake of defusing the tension.
There was only tension from the time I entered; this would never be the case if I were alone in my world with my own company. If talking is one of the requirements or the bloody criteria, I would withdraw from this whole ordeal. I'm barely managing from morning; getting a wink of sleep turned into exhaustion. I hit the gym just to remove the frustration and then swim for an hour or more so that exhaustion consumes me and pushes me to get some sleep. Nothing worked, not a bloody thing. I want a change. This friendship was a good start, but it's not how I thought things would turn out. There should be effort from my side, but I am too drained. I want to enjoy this whole ordeal without any expectation in return, and it looks like that's impossible.
Rowan cleared his throat a few times; heat was remitting from his body due to anger. "I don't have any problem with him, and he is my friend." "I don't care about anything; he is damn handsome, and that's enough perk for now." Tristan was too blunt for his own good, and the other two snickered at that. "We don't have any problem with him, either." That came in unison from the three of them. I wanted to add that I just wanted one who was beside me, not a whole bunch, but it was too late. I have friends, singular turned into plural. Is this how friendship works? Entering without permission. Well, this is interesting.
Conversations flew when the air was clear, and they started discussing some project, schoolwork, and a bit about every subject. Everything they were discussing was a piece of cake for me; every subject they were dreading.
My car arrived, and I faced Rowan, who was already facing me. "You have to go?" I nodded my head. "Well, bye then. I will text you." Once again, I nodded at him, and Rowan gave space so I could move. Everyone in unison said bye, for which I nodded while exiting the door.
"He is damn hot." Tristan should shut his mouth sometimes. "He is a kid." "He is nothing but that." Davis input his opinion. I don't know what is wrong with him; he is not this bitter to anyone. "In a few years, he will be approachable, I guess." As if anything is stopping him right now. "Tristan, please stop." "Well, I have to attend a get-together with my parents, so I will get going." Tristan stood, followed by the other two, Marco and Vincent. They always follow him; God knows why.
Once they exited, Davis and I sat facing each other. "You met him once, already you are hanging out with him?" Is this jealousy of abandoning him? I am not going to do that in this lifetime. "You are jealous." "I am obviously." "There is nothing to be jealous of; you are different, and you know that. No one can replace your place." He relaxed at that. I thought it was pretty obvious. "I don't like him, and I don't know why. You know I don't hate anyone so easily. I tolerate Tristan sometimes, but I can't tolerate your new friend. Something about him is off." I chuckled at that. "He is a kid, and stop judging him." "As I said, he is nothing but that." I don't know what to tell him to convince him. "I know what he is feeling, lost in this luxury world, the same way I felt once; still, sometimes I do feel the same." "You both are not alike, Rowan." "We are; I know that look. He is alone with everything. Thank God, I have you and my family." He smiled at that. "I will always be there for you, no matter what. Just be careful with him; I don't trust him." I shook at him. I wanted to point out that he is a kid once again, but I wisely held back, knowing his answer.