CHAPTER 66: HOPING FOR THE IMPOSSIBLE

"Levi." Well, here's another guy who demands an explanation, I'm sure. I laugh bitterly as I turn around and offer Allen the brightest smile I can muster.

We stand in front my dorm room, three days after Chuck's outburst regarding my current activities. I've been avoiding Allen, of course. Three days is enough, I guess. I sigh as I open the door and let him in.

I put down my bag on the table before heading to my wardrobe to get a change of clothes, "I'm gonna shower," I tell Allen without looking back. I don't hear any answer from him so I turn around with a sigh. He stares at me, expression complicated. I feel quite sorry for him, but also, good for me. At least he knows where I stand now.

Allen stares at me as I approach him with two sets of towels. I hand one to him and he stares at it in confusion. I sigh once again. I feel somehow helpless seeing this kind of Allen. Why is he being such a puppy? I take his hand and guide him towards the bathroom. He still says nothing and just allows me to push him inside before undressing him.

"Levi," he calls out to me just as I start undressing. I turn to him and he looks at me worriedly.

"Allen," I smile at him, "if you don't want to fuck, kindly wait in the room. I'm going to shower. Although, you should really consider it," I tease, nodding towards his lower half which is already starting to react for whatever reason.

Allen groans and closes his eyes, his face reddening probably from embarrassment. I chuckle and take his hand and guide him under the shower. I turn it on and tiptoe so I can kiss him. He kisses me back. At first, hesitatingly but then I tug him closer and that perhaps when he makes the decision to just enjoy it.

It was rather messy. This situation, I mean. Allen keeps trying to talk to me but seems to be holding himself back. Probably he realizes that he has no right to tell me what to do, much less demand anything from me. That's good. At least this way, we draw a line clearly.

I hate talking. I'm bad at it, so I'm just gonna take actions instead. They're working so far anyway. I spend more time with myself, leaving my friends mostly on read, which is not nice, but I really have to distance myself. For reasons, you know. I even left Allen in my room this morning and went to class alone. I didn't have breakfast with my friends and instead I dragged Jamal to a stall outside of the dorm building when I saw him earlier.

"I like this new style of yours," Jamal tells me. He looks me up and down and nods to himself, "glad my cousin did you right," he adds, grinning. I grin as well because he's right, Malik did a good job on my hair. I don't even have to spend a long time styling it although it's still long. The hair also doesn't disrupt my vision so I don't have to tie it or wear a headband whenever I'm working especially.

"Thanks, your cousin was wonderful," I tell Jamal. Malik really was wonderful. In more ways than one.

"By the way," Jamal looks up from his breakfast as if he just remembered something. He looks around with a frown before turning back to me, "where's Chuck?" he asked.

"Hmm?" I pretend not to understand the question, which is totally ridiculous. "Asleep, probably," I shrug, answering him, after a while, trying to act like I totally don't care? Which is even more ridiculous because I do care. A whole lot.

"What? Trouble in paradise?" Jamal teases, punching my arm lightly. I roll my eyes at him.

"Do you people take my relationship with Chuck way too seriously. Why are you so invested in us?" I ask, genuinely curious as to why people seem to keep pairing us together and making discussions over my relationship with my friends, especially with Chuck.

"Don't know, man." Jamal shrugged, "Just going with the flow, I guess," he grinned and his answer don't really answer anything.

"Somehow, that is kinda annoying," I tell him, frowning and pouting because it is. Annoying, I mean. "Will you people drop dead if I tell all of you we're just really, really good best friends?" I ask half joking half serious.

"Drop dead…" Jamal laughs, slamming the plastic table noisily, attracting glances from other tables. I turn towards the other patrons and lower my apologetically before I slap Jamal's hand. "That's really brutal and you said it with such face!"

"What face?" I touch my face, which I'm sure looks normal. I look at Jamal in confusion.

"Well, you kinda look like you're asking to get bullied," Jamal grins, raising one of his eyebrows in a way which I'm sure is meant to tease me.

"Fuck you." I bare my teeth at him threateningly and he just chuckles.

"Chuck's right in being protective of you. Even us pheasants understand the lethality in which resides in your obliviousness," Jamal says, probably more jokingly than seriously.

"Why are you talking like you're in a period drama?" I get even more annoyed now. But also, it's kinda hilarious every time I hear people talk about my relationship with Chuk.

"I mean, from the way he's like when he's with you, none of us will be surprised if you two actually, genuinely end up together, you know." Jamal shrugs, downing his water before checking his watch. "Walk you to class?" he asks, grinning.

I roll my eyes but stand up and follow him nonetheless. Better with him than alone, I guess. "Does everybody really think so?" I ask, very curiously.

"Even your so-called fans." Jamal nods as he picks up his pace so we walk side by side. I do tend to walk slightly faster than most people. Maybe because I often run around all day going here and there doing this and that.

I roll my eyes at that, though. Chuck has fans, I have, probably spies at best. All courtesy of Chuck and Marsha, of course,

"You people should really take up a hobby or something," I grumble, "or better yet, get a life," I conclude, grinning at Jamal who slaps my arm again, a little harder this time, making me wince.

"Oops." Jamal grins and stops in front of the door of my class. "We've arrived, My Lord," he says in a mocking bow, grinning.

"Fuck you," I grin at him and wave before entering the class. Jamal waves back before hopping to his own class.

I just sat down when my phone chimes. Thinking it's Chuck, or my other friends, I can't help but sigh. But Malik's name pops up and I grin immediately. I don't answer because the professor just walks in and she'll confiscate my phone after chopping my head, so instead, I reject the call and stealthily take a picture of my desk to send to him.

"You have classes on Saturdays?" is the response I get along with a shocked emoji and an angry one. "What kind of preposterous system is that?" comes after.

"A system which will give me decorated recommendation letters to companies?" I send that and a crying emoji because, well, I also think that it's preposterous.

Malik sends an emoji along with a picture which makes me choke on my saliva.

"Levi? Anything wrong?" Mrs. Carter asks from the front of the class and that just makes me blush even harder.

"No. I'm sorry." I smile at her apologetically. Mrs. Carter eyes me suspiciously and slightly scornfully, but then she turns around and continues her monologue. I sigh in relief before cursing Malik mentally while my fingers rapidly typing them.

"What? Don't like it?" Malik asks, sending a grinning emoji.

'Well, this is the first dick pic I've ever received, so I'm well surprised by it' is what I reply to him.

"Well, it misses you."

"Me or my hole?"

"Well, it did spend quite a lot of time inside that lovely tight hole of yours…"

I seriously can't hold my laugh. This is way too absurd and somehow embarrassing. Talking dirt is not my forte. I believe I look like a boiled tomato right now.

"Fuck you. I'm trying to study." I end up giving up and scolding him.

"Meet up later?"

Hmm… Should I? It's been more than three days… So I don't think it's too soon. But we did say that this will be casual… But is two days in a week count as 'casual'?

"I'll pick you up, yeah?" he asks.

Well, I did say to hell with it the first time...

"I'll be done at four today," I tell him, "pick me up at art faculty building." I reply to him before putting away my phone and trying, and failing, to study.

Now all I have to do is to get through the day not looking jittery and nervous like a lovestruck teenager and to try as best I can to avoid my friends. The latter is proven to be hard, because they keep texting and calling me and asking people about my whereabouts, not to mention they have my actual class schedule because we've exchanged them, as usual, before the semester starts.

We, the three of us, should really draw a line. This friendship is as weird as everyone else is making it to be. I know that now after spending some time apart from them and spending more time with the 'onlookers'.

"You're slippery." Marsha's sweet sing-song voice stops me from taking another step out of the classroom. I look up and see her smiling at me. I smile back. Of course I do. She's probably the only one who can make me smile just by her smiling at me.

"Hey, 'Sha," I greet her and she opens the path and we walk together. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much," Marsha says which, of course, have the exact opposite meaning, "just missing my best friend. One is sulking every time I see him, the other don't seem to even want to see me," she says, shrugging.

"What are you talking about?" I laugh, feeling guilty. "I'm just really busy, you know. Classes just started and I'm also starting to take new jobs. I blew most of my savings shopping," I tell her, chuckling awkwardly.

That's not a total lie. But not the entire truth either. And I think she knows it. She stares at me. We stand there in the middle of the hallway, facing each other, staring at each other. I can feel sweat dripping down my back.

"Well, at least you're not completely lying," she says finally, turning back around and we start walking again. "But you're dealing with things not in a healthy way, Lee, you realize that, don't you?" she asks gently. Her hand finds its way to mine and I hold it tightly.

"Maybe," I admit, "but it's the only way I know and probably the most effective." I grin at her, trying to be casual, which she doesn't buy even a bit.

"Where you going?" Marsha asks as we slowly head towards the lobby of my faculty building.

"Out," I tell her, trying not to seem scared. I am, though, Scared. Not scared of ehr doing anything to me. Scared of her being disappointed in me, which I'm sure she will be if she finds out what I did and what I'm doing and especially what I'll be doing.

"Hmm…" Marsha nods slowly. She slows down her pace just as we go out the lobby door. I scan my surroundings. My eyes fall to the parking lot across the lobby and see Malik's car already parked there and I gulp involuntarily.

I harden my heart, giving myself a mental cheer as well as mental face-slap before I turn towards her with the sweetest )and fakest, I'm sure) smile I can ever produce. "Is there anything? If not, I have an appointment," I tell her, trying to sound as polite as I can and not at all condescending and bratty.

Marsha frowns at me. She looks at me like she's trying to rip through my earthly body into my innermost demon. She's good at that.

"No. Nothing," Marsha says finally, probably deciding that either 1) it's not the time to expose me of my lies and deceit; or 2) she believes me when I say I have an appointment (which is not a lie anyway) and decides to respect that and let me go.

Either way, I'm relieved that I don't have to sit through a round of intervention or something.

I really hope everything will be sorted out before I have to experience that.

Here's to hoping for the impossible.