S.M

Chapter Nineteen

Vinny posted game footage into the group chat. Will couldn't help his excitement when he realised what it was the team they were playing on Saturday. His matches back home, either volleyball or soccer, had never been so important that they scouted the enemy team before games. They were now.

He was replaying the clip for the fifth time when Dune leaned on the couch, watching over his shoulder. Will waited until it was over before he craned his neck back to get a view of the bottom of Dune's chin.

"Are they who you're playing against?" Dune asked. The muscles in his throat moved as he spoke.

"Tallaght Rockets," Will said. "You missed a spot." He touched the line of hairs jutting out of Dune's jaw.

"Jesus," Dune jumped. He pressed his hand to his chest, like Leah might when something had shocked her, and shot Will a look.

"What?"

"'What?' he says," Dune grumbled. He joined Will on the couch. "Grabbing someone's neck out of nowhere is a sure way to cause a fight, or a heart attack."

Will couldn't help his grin. That was dramatic for Dune. "You don't look like you're having a heart attack. Does that mean you're going to fight me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dune was rubbing his throat, but took the time to give Will a knowing look. "And give you another excuse to avoid that?" He gestured to the coffee table. Will twitched. Dune and Cassie had been working their butts off making food for everyone coming over later, and Will hadn't so much as excused himself as had been reminded by Cassie about the mountain of work he had piling up.

Will had sat down with the genuine intentions of doing the assignments—Cassie made a list of everything he needed to do, and their due dates—but Vinny sent that video. Michael followed up with a video of the best ten receives ever in volleyball, declaring that he would replicate all of them in the next game. The resulting deluge of messages from the teammates, some hyped up, some cynical, was more engaging than anything on the list.

"You hate it that much?" Dune asked.

Will checked Dune's expression. There was no judgement, but then again, judgement wasn't something Dune threw around lightly. His hazel eyes lingered on Will's, seeking not so much an answer, as understanding. Will toyed with a few thoughts before he replied.

"I'm not in the zone for it," Was his final conclusion. If Will was being honest with himself, he wasn't in the zone in general. Ever since leaving home, and coming here, everything had been so unsettled. Will's routine was messy and unmanaged, making him feel messy and unmanaged. Talking to PG had gotten so far under his skin the business felt like chaos. For her, suicide had been so casual. Will always thought it was meant to be devastating and big, not something that a girl did when she still had things to live for.

"You're making your I-hate-homework face." Dune told him.

Will tried to ground himself the here and now. The urge to talk about how he'd been feeling had passed through him that day and left by the time he'd borrowed Dune's phone to text Gabriel. He wanted to be the boyfriend who rocked at sports, not the boyfriend ready to shatter if the world was too scary. Plus, Gabriel had been careful around him after that whole food thing, and Will regretted the incident altogether. He didn't want careful. He wanted that desire and burning that made Gabriel knowingly, willingly, cross so many boundaries just to touch him. He wanted—

"Actually," Dune rested his arm on the back of the sofa, capturing Will's attention with pointed eye-contact. "You're making your I'm-doing-math-homework face."

"I got an A in maths." Will pointed out.

"Stressed you to high heaven getting there though."

Dune hit the nail on the head.