Husbands But Not

4: Quickly

Noah

I've seen quick things. Things that go off with massive speeds, like subway trains, and things that go even speedier, like that rocket from the documentary I watched with grandpa. But never in my life have I seen something as painfully fast as the tear forming in Kent's eye and sliding down his face. I wouldn't have even noticed it had it not land on my hand.

Worst part in all this? I was the one who caused it.

I was a very privileged boy, no denying that. I had good looks, grades, and most importantly, an adorable dysfunctional family that has been there for me in the best and the worst. I had, without a doubt, a calm life. It rarely ever been complicated, and sometimes it made me forget that I was an exception. Most people didn't have all that, and sometimes, none of it.

Starting from today's class, we were supposed to sit next to each other. A whole class of boy-girl pairings, except us. I liked that.

I liked that we were different. We weren't a cliché pairing, a nerdy one, a jock-cheerleader one, or bad boy/nerd. We were just Noah and Kent and we were perfect. Except that everyone saw us as the opposite. Again, I was okay with that, but it hurt Kent.

I still haven't heard his voice and that was all I wanted for the time being. He still wore my jacket for the third day and it looked better on him than it ever did on me.

When class was over, Kent was out really quick. He was always one of the first to leave even though we weren't that close to the door. He was a dash of white paint on a canvas of students, and with every brush stroke he'd blend more into the painting until he became seemless with the swirl, and like that he'd go out of my sight.

If you wanna be paint, then I'm gonna be varnish, Kent Sinclair.

I rustled my way through the crowd of fleeting students and down the hallway. He was by his locker switching books for next class.

His back was turned to me as he closed it. I reached him just as he was heading to his next class. He wasn't looking where he was going, distracted by whatever he was reading on his phone and the cleaning cart was right by his side. I grabbed him by his shoulder and shoved him away from it and into the locker as lightly as I could.

That's how it all happened in less than a minute. His face flinched, his whole body cowered further into the steal lockers. His phone dropped to the floor with an ugly crack, and the worst of all, I felt the cold wet droplet land on my hand.

When he realised what was going on, he started to panic. He grabbed his broken phone just as fast as he dropped it and rushed away. I felt every single eye in the hallway on us.

That was all I thought about during class.

At lunch, it got worse.

I was sitting at my normal table. Ruby, Sawyer, Spyder, and Raiken were indulged in some conversation about robots.

It was fascinating how they were all so different, yet they all loved robots passionately. I did too, but I was too busy looking at the table towards the edge of the cafeteria, where Kent sat alone. I thought about asking him to join us. One thing stopped me, though. I didn't know how he would react. What if he felt uncomfortable? What if he didn't want to reject my offer but didn't want to do it? You had to consider every move with him.

Kent was a castle of glass waiting to be brought down to bits, and I might have cracked it today.

I didn't know how I missed it, but suddenly Kent was in the grips of Casper Dean, school's biggest homophobe.

I couldn't reach him on time. I knew Casper was up to no good, but I wasn't quick enough to prevent the punch Kent got. It knocked him to the ground. I thought that shattered whatever was there of the castle, but little did I know how down-to-dust it already was.

I shouldn't have done what I did. I knew I shouldn't. I wasn't a violent person, nor I condoned violence. However, something erupted inside me.

You. Simply. Do. Not. Hurt. Kent. In. My. Presence.

I punched Casper in the nose.

I broke it.

I broke my finger in the process.

We both got suspended.

A/N: More v v soon. What do you think of the chapter?