Clusterfuck

xxiii

Toby, shamefully, begins to think that maybe he didn't really mean it when he asked Leo to leave him alone. Because days pass, and then weeks. Weeks. And the most he's come into contact with Leo is seeing the back of his head every Tuesday and Friday during their calculus class.

All of a sudden, it's the end of March. Goddamn March. April begins next week. Spring has arrived, the weather has gotten a bit sunnier and a bit warmer, and finals are beginning to rear their ugly heads as they loom just around the corner. Good news, spring break is the week after next. Bad news, Toby has, like, four exams before then. One of which is calculus. And without Leo, he is beyond unprepared. He's beyond screwed.

Leo. Leo hasn't spoken a word to Toby since his birthday. He hasn't sent a single message. He hasn't even mailed a single letter via pigeon to Toby's window. Absurd.

Of course, though, Toby had asked for this, and Leo is only respecting his wishes. He has to keep reminding himself of that. Really, he should be happy. Because that's one less issue he has to deal with for the time being. Life can go back to being only mildly chaotic, as it was months ago.

But, still, not even one pigeon?

Toby's not staring at Leo, who is slumped in his seat and fiddling with a Rubik's Cube, and he's not focusing in on his hands and fingers, long and slender and nimble, as the professor ends the class early and the students around him rise from their seats all at once. He also doesn't notice Leo's shoulders rise and fall, or his neck crane back against his chair to reveal a bored, possibly even disappointed expression painted on his face, and he most certainly does not make eye contact with him for what must be a whole of a nanosecond before Leo instantly snaps his head back up.

"Jesus, just go ahead and ask him out, already," a voice snickers into Toby's ear, and he just about jumps out of his skin.

"Excuse me?" he says, whirling around to see a girl with faded pink hair, vicious eyeliner, and black lipstick smirking up at him (not unlike how Leo used to do), her laptop closed and propped up on her hip.

"You stare at him literally every day we have class," she says, gesturing back to Leo with her eyes, who is now literally running out the door. "I definitely love a good unrequited love story, but this? Excessive pining? Eh, it's going a little too far for my taste. It's kinda getting painful to watch."

"Uh." Toby is so taken aback, it takes him far too long to think of a single cohesive thing to say. "S-sorry, do I know you?"

"Loretta," the girl tells him. "Pretty sure we've met once."

"Oh. Oh, right, at the—yeah. The thing at Jordan's. Right?"

"Yeah, that's it."

There's an awkward, lingering silence that lasts for way too long.

"Um. Anyway." Toby clears his throat and pushes his chair back. "I don't—I think you've got the wrong idea. I have to go now."

"Wait. Sorry." Her hand clutches onto Toby's sleeve as he stands and takes a step, and when he raises his eyebrows at her, she releases him and drops her hand, which slaps her thigh as it falls slack. "Sorry. I didn't mean to, like, offend you. I shouldn't have butted into your business. That was rude of me."

Uh, yeah. "It's fine. But I actually have to go. I have work."

He doesn't, not until six. But it's still technically not a lie, so he's rolling with it.

"Right. Sorry."

She steps aside so he can pass her, but before he can get even four steps in, he sighs and turns back around to face her. He sucks in a breath and asks, "Wh-what makes you think I'm pining after him?" Because he's not. "Because I'm not."