Nick

I spotted a sunny patch of grass and gravitated toward it as I crossed the quad. Math was behind me, the sun was warm on my shoulders, the internet was full of jokes. That was as much as I could ever hope for on a Tuesday afternoon as I kicked back and munched on a bag of chips.

Literature was next, and I still hadn’t attempted the reading. With almost an hour before the class would start, I contemplated whether or not it was too late to catch up in that class.

Eh . . . I had to at least try. With a grumble, I put down my phone and opened my backpack; I swept the book up and opened it midair. One hand propped me up and one hand shaded my eyes from the sun, and I finished my chips and a couple pages.

“This is worse than I thought,” I mumbled. The book started with some girl waxing poetic about coming of age in the shadow of the palace when the paint had still been fresh on the place, almost three hundred years ago. She was my age but seemed nothing like it. Yearning for betrothal, wanting a family, and fearing her lack of magic made her less desirable.

Who could think about having kids, when college was the supposed necessity that it was? I couldn’t imagine having my life together enough for a kid when I couldn’t get my literature homework done.

I skimmed a page full of descriptions of the palace’s rose gardens. “Your dull personality makes you less desirable,” I muttered. She didn’t read like most of the girls I had known in school. Too passive and vapid. I flipped to the cover and noticed the author was a man.

My phone started ringing, both my savior and a bad omen. With a twitch of my wrist the phone flew in front of my face. Yep, Dad. I plucked it out of the air, sighing.

“I know what you’re gonna say—” I started.

“You mean, why on earth did you spend more of my money?” Dad rasped.

“Uh, yeah. It’s just two figures. From my favorite comic.”

“They’re all your favorite comic, Nick.”

I leaned back on my backpack, the sun now warming my stomach, not that I’d be enjoying it. “So if they are?”

“I’m canceling your credit card,” Dad said, and my gut went tight.

“How am I supposed to eat? Get books and supplies?”

“I got you a meal plan, didn’t I?”

I rubbed my temples, the phone floating by my ear. “Yeah, but I go with the guys out to eat on the weekends.”

“I guess you can’t now. Maybe you can use that time to work on your schoolwork.”

“You’re being unreasonable.”

“Am I? Do you have the grades to prove that you’re taking college seriously? Because I don’t think you are.”

Oh, come on. “Obviously I’m not a perfect little Asian student.”

Dad sighed. Heat flooded my cheeks. Mom would have hated me saying that, for playing the race card against Dad. “Nick, I’m not asking for you to lose your social life to studying or become any stereotype that you know is a damn stereotype. I just want you to take this seriously and get a degree.”

“I know.”

“Come home this weekend,” Dad said, and it came out as more of a command than a request. “I think we need to talk in person about how well college is working for you. I want to invest in you, but not if you’re going to waste it. Got it?”

He had no idea what I was going through, he had no idea how this was for me, he— “When do you want me there?”

“Saturday morning, let’s say, ten.”

We said goodbyes, and I fought waves of anger as I stared up at puffy, white clouds, the stuck-up book abandoned in the grass. Maybe I hadn’t been trying as hard as I could. But I didn’t see a reason to, without a clear direction to be headed in, without a passion for academics like other students. High school counselors used to tell me I’d find my passion once I figured out my major. Biology? Too many terms. Math? Not my forte. Physics? Too hard. English? I picked up the book and glanced at the time on my phone.

Fine, twenty more minutes of the character talking about rose names and daydreaming about the frock she would wear to the palace’s solstice ball.

I hardly got through it. Then, giving up with a sliver of triumph at having done any work at all, I shuffled to class.

After an hour of analyzing the main character’s views on social status and magical ability, I met Chase and Lucas on the way across campus.

The soccer boys had backpacks and duffel bags, with muddy, cleated shoes hanging from them. Wet golden locks were plastered to Chase’s cheeks, presumably from showering after practice. He and Lucas gave me goofy grins, and I shot them a questioning glare as we continued to the dorms.

“Heard you’re trying guys this time around,” Lucas announced.

I snorted. “Oh, you talked to Mark?” They nodded. What exactly had he told them? It wasn’t like Scott and I were officially going out. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s called bisexuality for a reason, you know.”

“He’s not your first guy, though, right?” Chase asked.

“Nope. Junior year of high school,” I clarified. “Do you guys walk on the bi side at all?”

Chase shook his head, but Lucas gave a shrug.

“I had a girlfriend for a few weeks,” Lucas explained, as we crossed the street at the edge of campus. “She was so sweet but I wasn’t as into her as I had expected.”

“Well you didn’t have to get into her right away,” I said.

Lucas barked a laugh, shaking his head. “Honestly I’m not sure dating is really my thing anyway.”

“That’s totally fine,” Chase said. “At least you tried. Girls in high school intimidated me too much. I felt more comfortable with guys.”

Having spent most of my teenage years knowingly bi, people were kind of just . . . people. I knew why other people didn’t see things that way, but only at an intellectual level, not in reality. My brain didn’t compute gender like that. “FYI, people aren’t that different. They’re all great.”

“Nothing wrong with being bi, Natalis gets that point across pretty clearly,” Chase said, as we climbed the stairs of the dorm. At least having a bisexual goddess meant people understood the concept. “But I’ll stick with guys. I know how to push a guy’s buttons, and he knows how to push mine.”

I decided against pointing out that my best blowjob had been from my ex-girlfriend and texted Mark and Scott invites to dinner. We parted ways to drop off backpacks.

When I emerged from my dorm a minute later, my phone vibrated.

Scott: Evening class ends in 15, I’ll meet you at the DC.

Mark’s affirmation came right after, and soon he joined me in the hallway.

“What did you tell everyone?” I asked, and he chuckled as we walked slowly back toward the staircase.

“That you guys looked cozy together.”

“We didn’t do anything,” I mumbled, and Mark shrugged.

“None of my business if you did.”

“I mean, we aren’t going out yet? But . . .” But what? I wanted to go out with Scott, for sure. I wanted to do a lot of things with him. But I also wanted him to be comfortable every step of the way and that meant being patient.

Mark shrugged, tugging at the bottom of his button-up shirt. “You seem pretty close. Which is good. The guy could stand to relax a little.”

I laughed. That was definitely true. “I’m doing what I can, man.”

“He talks to his statues, like, all the time.”

I frowned at Mark as Chase and Lucas emerged from their dorm down the hall and headed toward us. Mark was obviously expecting me to find that fact about Scott weird, but after getting to know his relationship with the gods, it totally wasn’t.

“I talk to my action figures,” I finally said.

“Fuckin’ made for each other,” he said, smiling.

Yeah, maybe we were. And maybe I was blowing it with Dad, and if he pulled me from the school I’d lose someone special.

Or maybe none of it fucking mattered. I flinched at that thought. It did matter. It . . . did.

Scott

I was hardly able to pay attention to the conversation at dinner since my sister kept texting me every minute. Mom and Dad were fighting, and she was practically transcribing the whole thing to me—the stage-direction version.

Kat: Mom’s throwing her hands up, and yelling for Natalis to save her.

Kat: And he’s saying she better, with the way Mom’s been acting. I don’t think they’re going to get physical but they sure do look miserable. I fucking hate this, Scotty. I wish you were here.

Ugh. This was awful.

Scott: I wish I were there too. Can you go to Jackie’s house?

Kat: She’s at gymnastics tonight.

That was a bummer. I poked at my food. Nick was sitting next to me, his telekinesis bumping my thigh or shoulder every now and then. Mark and Chase were engrossed in a conversation about the scenery in a first-person shooter game while Lucas worked on a plate of chow mein.

I sighed, and Nick nudged me.

“You okay?”

My parents are fighting again and I feel so sorry for Kat and I can’t focus on anything.

The conversation across the table died as the guys blinked at me. Oh for the gods’ sakes.

“Sorry, didn’t mean . . . was talking to Nick.” My cheeks rushed with heat.

Chase frowned. “Didn’t hear words, just got a wave of, like, sadness or something.”

Mark raised an eyebrow at Nick. “He talk to you like that a lot? That’s sweet.”

“You guys are a cute couple,” Lucas commented, and my eyes widened, as my attention darted from Lucas to Nick to Mark.

“Uh, thanks, but, um.” I tried.

“Aww, you got him all tongue-tied,” Nick said, putting a hand over mine. “I love you too, honey.”

The guys laughed, and I stared at his hand and tried to figure out how much he was joking. Uh?

Nick chuckled with the others and swiped his phone unlocked. A moment later, as Lucas joined the video game conversation, my phone buzzed.

Nick: Let me know if the joking is too much, man. It’s kinda fun letting them think we’re an item.

And I got two very conflicting feelings from his words. I wanted us to be an item, but I didn’t know if I could handle it. And why did that still have to be an issue?

My phone buzzed again.

Kat: Mom threw a mug.

I grimaced.

Scott: You haven’t hidden in your room yet?

Kat: No way. I need to be a witness in case something happens.

I really didn’t want to keep sitting here and watching my family fall apart one text at a time. But what could I do?

Scott: Want me to call?

Kat: No. Thanks though. I’m still trying to do homework. They’re cleaning the floor so I’m going to get work done.

Her words reminded me of everything I had to do this week. An essay for religious studies by Friday, a couple chapters to read for English by Thursday, and a statistics exam on Monday. The semester was officially in full swing and though on the surface it didn’t seem that bad, everything else complicated things.

The guys got up from their chairs, and I followed Nick numbly as we approached the dorms. I shivered in the cooling evening, the sky darkening from pale yellow to deep blue.

Nick put his arm around my shoulders, and I wanted to reciprocate but couldn’t will my hands to leave my pockets.

I-I’m sorry. I like this. But . . .

“You want me to let go?” he whispered. I shook my head.

We got to the base of the dorm’s stairs, and Nick sighed, relinquishing his grip on me as we trekked after the others.

“If it weren’t for this chem lab I need to work on I’d be challenging you to all the Dark Hero duels right now,” Lucas shot at Mark.

“I got calculus homework anyway,” Mark lamented. He glanced over his shoulder at Nick. “We should see if your teacher’s using the same curriculum as mine so we can study together.”

Nick hummed. “Yeah! If Scott doesn’t mind me coming over.”

“That’s fine,” I said, not sure if he was using this as a convenient excuse to sleep in my bed with me again. That had been . . . really nice. But also frustrating. Because . . . not going out.

We reached the third floor and bid Chase and Lucas good night. We continued on, and I checked on Kat.

Scott: Is it going okay?

I stuck my phone back in my pocket as we stepped into the dorm.

“You working on derivatives yet?” Nick asked.

“We did that last week,” Mark said. “I can help you out if you want. That stuff wasn’t too bad.”

I sat at my desk as the guys hovered over Mark’s math textbook.

“Are you kidding? Damn, yes, please help me.”

“Well? Go get your stuff.”

Nick pointed enthusiastically at Mark before dashing out the door, shutting it with telekinesis.

“Did you have to tell the guys you saw us together?” I shot him, switching my phone from hand to hand.

Mark widened his eyes. “Oh, uh . . . I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.”

“I’m not really ready to have everyone thinking we’re . . . you know.”

Mark frowned, sitting at the edge of his desk. “I’m sorry. Chase and Lucas don’t seem to mind.”

He was right, but that didn’t make it any less . . . ugh. Frustrating. Inconvenient. It wasn’t what Nick and I wanted.

“I . . . I’m sorry, I guess I’m a little jealous or something,” Mark mumbled, looking away from me, and I realized I must have been emanating my darker emotions. I breathed out in a huff. Regardless of how upset I was, I had to control what was getting out. It wasn’t fair to make Mark feel bad just because I couldn’t control myself.

“Sorry, you’re right—they don’t mind,” I forced out.

Mark gave me a bewildered expression, and I gave up. I checked my phone, but there was nothing from Kat. I turned to my altar as Nick returned.

“Okay, yes, help me,” Nick said, letting go of his math textbook and notebook. They flew to Mark’s bed, the book opening up and pages flipping.

I refocused on my altar, and gave Natalis a hello with a caress of my finger. Please protect my sister. Then I regarded my quartz Laesth.

Give my mom strength.

I definitely wasn’t going to sleep well tonight.