The Academy

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The Academy Page 14

by Quinn Anderson


  Sebastian smiled, hoping it would get Deen to relax and realize he was actually welcome. “I hope we’ll be seeing a lot of you from now on.” He made his voice as neutral as possible. “Is Nick with you?”

  Deen ran a hand through his hair. “Um, well, the thing is—”

  Dante and Theo caught up with him then. Dante had Theo by the arm, as if he’d dragged him through the crowd. “Hey, Deen. Nice seeing you again so soon.”

  “Likewise.”

  Theo waved. “I’m Theo. We’ve actually met before. I got a glimpse of you once while you were sleeping.”

  “Right.” Deen blinked. “Well, I’ll be doing a lot less of that from now on.”

  “Theo, stop scaring people.” Sebastian turned back to Deen, praying that he wasn’t about to bolt for the door. “So yeah, where’s Nick? He did get my invitation, right? And my gift?”

  Theo looked sharply at him and mouthed, You got him a gift?

  Sebastian ignored him in favor of watching Deen. His darting eyes and twitching facial muscles made him seem like a mouse who’d been trapped by three large cats. Sebastian almost expected him to squeak.

  “I was getting to that. Um. You see, Nick got your invitation, but he’s, um.” Deen fiddled with his hair again. “He’s not coming.”

  “What?” Sebastian almost took a step back. “Why?”

  “I’m the wrong person to ask, honestly. I told him he should make an appearance. I practically begged him. He’s always going on and on about how he wants to make more friends. Coming here would have been a great way to do that, but he wasn’t having it. I swear I did my best to convince him.” Deen grimaced. “I can still stay, right?”

  Sebastian’s thoughts were racing too fast for him to answer with words. Instead, he stepped back and ushered Deen in with a hand. Deen scurried off into the crowd.

  As soon as Deen was gone, Sebastian closed the front door behind him, hard enough to be heard over the loud music. Several people glanced over, but he ignored them. He stood there for a moment, eyes glued to his shoes, and tried to determine why his stomach felt like it’d sunk down into his toes. He should be annoyed, or even angry that Nick had blown him off. But instead he felt . . . embarrassed? Disappointed? Possibly a combination of things.

  “Well”—Dante clapped a large hand onto his shoulder—“that settles that.”

  Sebastian didn’t look up. “Settles what?”

  “I’m not trying to kick you when you’re down, but I think the message here is pretty clear. Nick’s not into you.”

  At that, Sebastian frowned. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Really? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like every time you do something to win him over, it backfires.”

  “We don’t know that for sure.” Sebastian shrugged Dante’s hand off. “We don’t know why he didn’t come. Maybe he had plans.”

  “Yeah, sure. The new kid, who has one friend that we know of, couldn’t make it. No way he had something more important to do than come to the first party of the new semester. If he liked you, he wouldn’t miss this opportunity to spend time with you.”

  “You know, it’s not too late to back out of the bet,” Theo piped up. “We’d understand if you did. And I swear, we’ll only tease you a little. Right, Dante?”

  Dante nodded. “Maybe the bet was best left in the past. You gotta admit, it’s kinda juvenile. I mean, competing to see who can kiss the new kid first? What a cliché.”

  Sebastian felt a strange stab of defensiveness, as if he were being criticized instead of the bet. “You two sound awfully eager to call it off. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  Dante’s head twitched like he was resisting the urge to look at Theo.

  Theo smiled far too brightly. “Of course not. It’s just that this isn’t a high school drama, and we’re not angsty teens anymore. We’re adults with scary adult responsibilities. We should act like it.”

  Sebastian wasn’t fooled for a second. “If you guys didn’t want to participate, you should have said something from the start. I think you’re trying to stop the bet because neither of you has made any progress, despite being in much better positions to woo Nick than me.”

  “That’s some grade-A denial there, buddy,” Dante said. “Honestly, Theo and I haven’t made any real moves yet because we’re trying our best to not act like you.”

  Sebastian squared his shoulders. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “All the ostentatious posturing you’ve done has blown up in your face. We figure the subtle approach is probably more Nick’s style, and sure enough, he likes both of us.”

  Sebastian bit back a sarcastic comment. There was a grain of truth to that, and it felt distinctly like salt. “Nick likes me, okay? I know he does. I’ve experienced our chemistry for myself. He’s playing hard to get.”

  “Maybe he really is hard to get,” Theo said. “Or maybe you’re going about this all wrong. What have you been doing so far to get his attention? Getting in his face and being fake and generally acting like this is Mean Girls. I don’t think Nick is Cady Heron. I think he’s Janis Ian, and all the superficial crap you’re doing is pissing him off.”

  Sebastian scoffed. “I am not the Regina George of this university.”

  “You sure as hell aren’t Kevin G., babe,” Dante said.

  “Whatever.” Sebastian paused to actually consider what they were saying, much as it irritated him. “Maybe buying Nick that outfit was a bit much, but he looked damn good in it.”

  Dante glanced at Theo. “Can confirm. Blondie cleans up so good, you wanna get dirty.”

  “Besides,” Sebastian said, “you’d think a scholarship student would appreciate nice gifts.”

  “He probably doesn’t see it as a gift.” Theo shrugged. “He might see it as you trying to buy him. I’ve only talked to him a couple of times, but I don’t think he’s materialistic. You should have seen his phone. He didn’t care at all that it was falling apart.”

  “Hm.” Sebastian mulled that over. “I suppose I have been coming at this from the wrong angle. I’ve been using all the tricks that impress the elitist snobs we go to school with. Nick’s not like them. I need to tailor my seduction to his taste.”

  He thought he saw Dante and Theo roll their eyes.

  “Seb, are you sure you want to do this?” Theo asked. “You’re being stubborn even for you. Why do you want to win so badly?”

  Words weighed heavily on Sebastian’s tongue. “Because I want to claim Barbzilla once and for all.” He pointed to the fireplace. “I have a spot on my mantel cleared for it and everything.”

  Dante raised a brow. “You’re putting all this time and energy into winning a worthless hunk of plastic? I find that difficult to believe.”

  “Hey now.” Theo pouted. “That’s my worthless hunk of plastic.”

  “Not after I take it from you,” Sebastian said.

  Dante shook his head. “Seriously? You want the trophy that badly? Why?”

  Sebastian stared at him for a long moment before looking away, eyes unfocused. Because my parents are selling the house I grew up in. I feel like I’m losing a part of my childhood along with my family. And once graduation comes around, I might lose you two as well. But if I have Barbzilla . . .

  Out loud, he said, “Because I want to rescue it from that pigsty Theo calls a room. For all I know, he’ll accidentally throw it out the next time he cleans. Which should be any month now.”

  Theo’s mouth dropped into an offended O. “I would never.”

  “I call bullshit,” Dante said. “This is about Nick, and we all know it.”

  Sebastian sighed. “I admit that Nick is proving to be a challenge, but now that I’ve figured him out, he’ll crack. I’ll win the bet, Barbzilla will be mine, and everything will go back to normal.”

  Dante did a decent interpretation of the knowing expression Theo adopted when he went into therapist mode. “Don’t you think you might be channeling some o
f your feelings about the divorce into this bet? Your parents hurt you, and now you’re lashing out at Nick. This isn’t going to solve anything.”

  Theo appeared impressed. “Hey, not bad. Where’d you learn that?”

  “I listen when you talk.” Dante winked.

  “Enough.” Sebastian turned back toward the party. “No more analysis tonight. Since Nick isn’t here, there’s nothing I can do about the bet, which means I’m free to enjoy all the fun I would have missed out on otherwise.” He looked out over the crowd until he spotted Marshall Wallace, the blond from his West African History class. “Tonight’s a wash, but come Monday, the bet is back on, and now, I’m done playing.”

  Nick lay in bed, staring up at his ceiling while anger roiled in the pit of his stomach. His first Saturday at a new school, and he was spending it alone in his room. He was too pissed off to go anywhere or do anything, including some much-needed studying. Instead, he intended to spend a tense evening sequestered away from the general populace, where he could brood in peace.

  On the bathroom door hung the outfit that’d started it all: the one Sebastian had foisted on him. He’d specifically put it within view so he could glare at it without having to get up. In some corner of his mind, he knew he was overreacting, but he was too angry to care.

  Christ, Sebastian was so . . . Nick had been trying to think of the right word all night. Arrogant. Presumptuous. Manipulative.

  Attractive, said a voice in his head.

  Nick shoved it away. More like repellant.

  Thoughtful, it chimed in anyway.

  No, fuck that. There was nothing thoughtful about what Sebastian had done.

  Nick practically threw himself onto his side and sandwiched his head between two pillows, as if he could muffle his own thoughts. He didn’t want to spend the whole night stewing, but since he’d refused to go to Sebastian’s party, his alternatives were limited.

  If only Deen hadn’t gone to the party, he’d at least have some company. But no, Nick couldn’t fault him for going. It was like a dream come true for him. Seeing the excitement on Deen’s face as he’d picked out his party clothes almost made the infuriating encounter with Sebastian worth it.

  If Nick regretted his decisions to stay behind at all, it was only because he’d forced Deen to attend the party alone. Deen had begged him to come, pretending it’d help Nick make friends, but Nick saw through his act: his hands had shaken as he’d buttoned up his shirt and combed his hair. He’d been terrified of going alone.

  And Nick had stuck to his guns and sent Deen off to that piranha tank alone. He was a bad friend.

  His phone vibrated on the bed next to him, as if agreeing with him.

  He didn’t glance at it. It was probably a Facebook notification, and the last thing he needed right now was another friend back in Chicago asking him how he was liking his new school.

  But then it vibrated again, and again.

  He pushed himself up onto his elbows. Someone was calling him. He glanced at the screen and groaned aloud. Sebastian. Why, of all people, did it have to be Sebastian?

  Heart racing, he watched as the call went to voice mail. Thank fuck he’d thought to program Sebastian’s number into his phone, or he might have answered. The missed call notification popped up a second later, indicating that Sebastian hadn’t left a voice mail. Nick breathed a sigh of relief, only to tense up again a moment later when a text appeared.

  He debated checking it for so long, the screen went dark. In the end, he growled and snatched up his phone. The text was one line long, but he analyzed it as if it were one of his textbooks.

  You’re missing a hell of a party.

  That was it. No segue. No small talk. No introduction, like he knew Nick had taken his number. Which, of course, Nick had, but that was for avoidance purposes.

  Actually, on that note, how had Sebastian gotten his number?

  Nick’s fingers itched to ask, but he held back. He didn’t want to give Sebastian the satisfaction. If he were smart, he’d ignore the bastard. Deny him the response he wanted. It’d serve the spoiled jerk right.

  Nick held out for five whole minutes before his phone magically found its way into his hand.

  How’d you get my phone number? I never gave it to you.

  He hit Send, tossed his phone onto the bed, and immediately cursed himself for being so weak. Less than a minute passed before his phone lit up with a response.

  Conned it out of Deen.

  Nick huffed. He was so going to make Deen pay into the Jerk Roommate jar.

  As if reading his thoughts, a second text popped up. But don’t blame him. He resisted for way longer than I expected him to. I had to make him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

  Nick was curious to know what Sebastian had given Deen in exchange for his number, but he was still hell-bent on not talking to Sebastian. He threw his phone back onto the bed—probably harder than needed—and flipped open his laptop. He’d started searching for a new one earlier, and there were plenty of options to browse online.

  While he attempted to bury himself in retail therapy, his phone buzzed again. He made it ten whole seconds before he sighed and checked the new text.

  Why didn’t you come to my party?

  The text had no inflection of its own, but it felt . . . sad to Nick. Emotion flickered in his chest, something like regret, but he snuffed it out. Let Sebastian be sad. He’d made some shitty choices today.

  I didn’t want to come.

  Another text popped up immediately.

  Didn’t want to risk being alone with me, huh? There are plenty of other people here, you know.

  Nick could practically hear Sebastian’s flirty tone. He was having none of that. He wrote back in a huff. That wasn’t my reason.

  Why then?

  Because I don’t want to see you.

  Nick hit Send and waited for a swell of satisfaction, but to his surprise, he felt . . . anxious. As if he were fighting with a friend or a lover or something. Which was ridiculous, so why did he feel this way?

  Sebastian replied. Thanks to my keen powers of observation, I detect a note of anger.

  Oh, I’m pissed all right.

  Why? Whatever I did, I’m sorry.

  Nick considered ignoring him again, and once more, Sebastian seemed to read his thoughts.

  If you don’t tell me what it was, I can’t make sure I never do it again. To anyone.

  Nick frowned. Well, he supposed Sebastian had a point, and it was nice of him to think of others for once. Disarmed, Nick took his phone in both hands and typed quickly.

  That “present” you bought me was inappropriate and unwanted.

  Oh, is that all? Nick could almost hear Sebastian shrugging. I was trying to do something nice. Enjoy my altruism. Better yet, let everyone enjoy it. Wear the outfit to my party.

  “Fuck that,” Nick said, typing furiously. No. Bad move. Huge violation of my boundaries. Not impressive or appropriate at all. I’m not so hard up I’ll smile while you pull a stunt like that. You made me feel like a charity case. I’ve worked for everything I have, and I’d never have accepted your “gift” if you’d given me a choice.

  A long minute passed in which Nick received no reply. He’d begun to hope Sebastian had lost interest when another text arrived.

  I’m sorry I overstepped. If you think I was trying to buy your affection, I swear I wasn’t. I was showing off and being selfish, and I apologize. I wasn’t trying to piss you off or make you feel cheap.

  Nick shook his head to himself and muttered under his breath as he typed. Did Theo tell you he also gave me a gift earlier today?

  What’d he give you?

  A phone. A nice one. I tried to turn it down a couple of times, but ultimately, I accepted it. You know why?

  Sebastian’s reply was the last thing Nick expected. Because you like him, but you don’t like me?

  Nick stared at the text, reading it over and over until he thought it might be imprinted on his corneas. Mo
re surprising than the text was the realization that washed over Nick. He didn’t dislike Sebastian. He liked both Theo and him in totally different ways. He was too angry to admit that right now, so he sidestepped the question.

  Theo asked me if I wanted the phone. Keyword: asked. If I’d outright refused to take it, I’m positive he would have dropped the issue. You, on the other hand, didn’t bother to consult me. You said you were being selfish, and I agree completely.

  Watching as the text sent, Nick realized his heart rate had sped up. This was the kind of frank conversation he usually had when fighting with a lover. Why again wasn’t he ignoring Sebastian? How was it that Sebastian kept sucking him back in?

  For whatever reason, he needed for Sebastian to understand. The “gift” had solidified in Nick’s head every negative opinion he’d formed: Sebastian was an entitled brat who had no idea how his actions looked to people who lived outside his gilded bubble. Nick refused to let him have his way yet again.

  For a good few minutes, Sebastian was silent. Nick went back to browsing, but honestly, he didn’t read a word. His attention was attuned to the phone on the mattress next to him. Much as he hated to admit it, he was curious to see what Sebastian was going to say. His apology hadn’t been half-bad, but if Nick knew him at all, he’d probably turn on the charm next.

  The second a notification popped up, Nick’s phone was in his hand.

  You make my head spin.

  Okay, was that a good thing or a bad thing? Before Nick could ask, another message appeared.

  I don’t know how to describe it. One second, my life is one way, but then the next, you appear, and you make me question everything. I never know what you’re going to say. I don’t know what you want, and it’s frustrating. But I also want to please you.

  Nick stared at the words as if he thought he could get them to change if he looked hard enough. This might be the most direct Sebastian had ever been with him, and it roused his paranoia.

  Sebastian, have you been drinking?

  The response was immediate. I’m at a party. Of course I’ve been drinking.

  Nick was about to make a snide comment, but Sebastian texted again before he could. Not that much, though. I don’t want to drink. I don’t want to party. I’m standing by myself in a corner texting you while everyone around me is dancing and having fun. Why is that?

 

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