Raising Riven

Hayden

″Screw her. He was yours first.″

Hayden couldn′t quite fault her logic. It took for his alarm to sound before he realised that they had been FaceTiming all night. Becca, the pretty, petite, pudgy girl on his phone screen, undoubtedly had plenty more to say.

″He′s straight,″ Hayden reminded her, knuckles rubbing his puffy eyes. ″I think.″

″So were you,″ she deadpanned. ″Besides, you′re both too cute to be straight.″

Hayden shook his head. ″I′ll never be more than a friend to him.″

Becca must have gotten tired of the sympathetic approach. ″Hayden, shut the hell up. You′re in love.″

Duh, tactless bitch. Hayden knew that. Or at least, he was in the midst of realising it himself. But what good did it do? He was setting himself up to get his heart broken. Not to mention, he ran the risk of losing his best friend if he confessed his true feelings.

″Stop,″ said Becca flatly, twirling her lilac curls, livid despite her incessant yawns.

″Stop what?″

″Overthinking.″

″I′m not overthinking,″ Hayden lied.

″I know Dec. He′s not going to disown you for telling him how you feel, idiot. You′re already in the friend zone, what more do you have to lose?″

″I have everything to lose.″

″You mean the kid?″

″Riven,″ he corrected, ″and Declan.″

Becca snorted. ″Declan Scott would rather run off a cliff than lose his best friend. Plus, Riven is as much yours as he is Dec′s.″

Hayden almost smiled. ″No. Legally, Dec is a single parent.″

″You mean illegally.″

″Potayto potahto.″

″And you′re surprised they fired you.″

″Hanging up now.″

Becca didn′t flinch. Defeated, Hayden sunk in his couch and listened to her rant. ″Screw Sarahー″

″Sierra.″

″ーcan shove it up herー″

″She′s my friend, too. Sort of.″

″ーshould′ve never gotten back together in the first place. Seriously, what′s up with that?″

Hayden felt his chest tighten. Recounting the kiss was as painful as witnessing it for the first time. ″I don′t know,″ he replied, almost a whisper. ″I guess they′re giving it another shot.″

Hayden had led himself to believe, in the short train-ride downtown, that maybe Declan had feelings for him too. Maybe, he′d rather hold Hayden′s hand than fist-bump? Maybe, he′d rather kiss him goodnight than hug him goodbye?

Fleeting as they were, those thoughts had sparked hope. He jumped too soon, thinking Declan would catch him, only to realise that he had mistook foolish expectations for a fairytale ending. He′s not yours and he never will be.

″You′re overthinking again.″

For real this time, Hayden hung up. He didn′t feel remorse, either. Becca knew him all too well to take it personally. Besides, he was too numb to feel.

Hayden liked it better when it was just the three of them; Declan, Becca and himself. Call it a squad if threesome sounds sexual. From middle school to high school, even as Declan got carted from city to city, stuck in the system.

Each time he′d run away from abusive foster parents, Hayden′s family would take him in. He missed their sleepovers — staying up late, from listening to Becca bitch about other girls to, in later years, spilling the tea on her adventurous sex life.

Of the three, she was the only one who ever got any attention. Until puberty hit, and Declan became, ″Oh my god, it′s Declan.″ Hayden never minded third-wheeling on his dates. In his bones, he always knew none of them would last any longer than a month. But they′d lasted fifteen years.

I′m still his number one.

Hayden no longer sulked on his couch. He threw on a t-shirt and bolted out the door, still in his shorts from the night before. He tripped down the stairs of his apartment building, dialling Becca′s number as he raced for the exit.

″I thought you′d call back sooner,″ she said, amused at best. Hayden took the stairs three at a time. ″Someone′s in a hurry. I was just about to start painting my nails.″

″Paint em red,″ he panted, sprinting out the building and onto the sidewalk. On occasion, New Yorkers′ no-fucks-given attitude had its benefits. Only this one lady in a raincoat, with a toy poodle in her purse, is aware enough of her surroundings to mutter, ″Effing tourists.″

″Why?″ came Becca′s voice, mostly drowned out by the wind whipping across Hayden′s face.

″Cause ten points to Gryffindor, I′m going to get my boys.″

* * *

Change of plan.

Declan wasn′t home. Hayden rapped at the window, breathing heavily. His knees shook, clothes drenched in sweat. He felt as though he had just run a marathon. So much effort, only to find that Declan wasn′t in on a Sunday afternoon.

Maybe it wasn′t such a bad thing. He peeked into his apartment, God forbid he could have been going at it with Sierra, before lifting the unlocked pane and letting himself in. His feet hit the floor with the usual thud, lips curling in satisfaction as he confirmed that indeed, no one was home.

He had not planned on breaking and entering, not that Hayden had broken anything. He figured mi casa, su casa. If Declan could run away and sneak in through Hayden′s window, Hayden could do the same. Besides, he needed to win him over. Call it a long shot, but it′s the road to any man′s heart.

He busied himself in the kitchen, effortlessly picking utensils out of the drawers as though it were his own home. In fact, it felt that way. He left the kettle to boil before wandering into Declan′s bedroom, hopping into the shower like he did on most days after work.

He didn′t want to look like he′d just run five miles to see him. Hayden had a designated drawer in Declan′s dresser, just as the latter had one in his. It made for little complication if one decided to crash over at the other′s. Hayden conveniently neglected it today, reaching into Declan′s drawer instead.

He tugged on a pair of his best friend′s boxer briefs. Strolling shirtless into the living room, he towel-dried his hair as the front door fell open. Declan rushed in, Riven bundled in his arms, slamming the door shut to exhale a sigh of relief.

″Ah, my two favourite boys in the whole world,″ Hayden said, mentally somersaulting as he watched Declan′s expression shift from exhaustion to utter glee. Hayden one, Sierra nil.

″Pancakes are almost ready,″ he added, tugging on one of Declan′s t-shirts. He turned back to the kitchen, hiding the blush that burned its way across his cheeks when he caught Declan biting his lip. Hayden smiled. ″Extra maple syrup.″