Tom Holland Imagines

Pushing Me Away - College AU

People talk and Tom hates it.

Sure, since the beginning it's been his own fault. He had no one else to blame but himself for the reputation he built. He had been the player, the heartless boy at frat parties who flirted with every other girl and never called them back. He didn't use to care about what people said, but now he hates it. Not because it hurt him, he was way pass that, but he hated it because its ruining what could be the best thing in his life.

Three semesters ago, Tom had decided it was enough. His grades had flopped considerably almost costing him his scholarship and they almost kicked him out of the basketball team. It had been eye opening, seeing how close he had been to losing what had worked so hard for in a matter of months. So Tom stopped. But the fact that he did, didn't necessarily mean everyone else stopped talking about him.

Two semesters after his decision he met you. It had been in a third year psychology class, when he had arrived just in time for the lecture and taken the only available seat next to you. You had lent him a pencil when he couldn't find his and offered him a smile when he had bashfully thanked you. Tom would be lying if he said he didn't start falling for you right then and there. Your conversations always brought a laugh out of him and he had never felt so free to be himself like when he was with you. His feelings had developed from that moment onwards and he tried to let you know. He asked you out to get coffee, brought an extra snack to class one time and tried to get your attention whenever you were at one of his games.

Your response was the same every time, rejection, the softest 'no, I'm okay' that's ever been said.

With every rejection Tom remembered the rumors and all the past actions that follow him like a shadow. If he could go back in time, he would, anything to erase whichever idea you had formed about him in your mind. He was determined to forget about you, you'd be better off without him anyway, and he wouldn't be hurting so much every time you pushed him away. But then summer came along and something happened, something he still can't forget.

----

"Fine. Yeah, okay Matthew I'll wait here. See you."

Tom recognized your voice as he walked down Main street to pick up an errand for his mom. He looked up from his phone to see you sitting cross-legged on the hood of your car, frowning at the screen of your phone. The sun was high in the sky and but the heat wasn't as bad as it had been at the beginning of the summer. Tom had an inner battle with his heart for a minute as he decided whether or not talking to you was a good idea, and damn his heart for winning.

He pocketed his phone and took a few steps towards you before waving his hand. "Hey." He smiled, "Is everything okay?"

You looked up and gave him a small smile, "Tom, hi. Umm not really, my car won't start and my brother won't be able to come and help me for at least 40 minutes."

Tom stuffs his hands in the pocket of his jeans, "I wish I could helped but I walked, I had jumper cables in my trunk."

You shrugged, "It's alright I can wait."

Tom scratched the back of his neck nervously, what if he asks you out for lunch? Would you say yes? "I was going to pick up something from Mrs. Granger's store for my mom and then grab some lunch. Would you um... would you like to come with me?"

You gave him a long look, and his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt under your gaze before you nodded your head and smiled. Tom let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and held out his hand for you to take so you can get off the hood of your car. He couldn't help smiling at the way sparks seemed to fly when your hands touched and he swore his hand was still tingling even after you let go. Tom was worried it was a mistake, just another way to get himself hurt if you decided to change your mind and pushed him away once more. But he had to try, he would keep trying even if the rumors about him weighted on his shoulders as a constant reminder of what you probably thought of him. But he pushed everything to the back of his mind, except you. Thirty minutes and three slices of pizza later he could only focus on the way you laughed, nose scrunched up in the middle of your face and head thrown back. He was floating, he couldn't stop smiling, he thought things couldn't get better and that maybe you realized that what people said wasn't true anymore. Maybe you knew he had changed.