It’s not like I’m serious, mate.
Will sat, once again stirring around the eggs on his plate before spooning it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, completely non-energetic and wishing more than anything that he could just crawl back in his bed. His summer had wound up to be uneventful, as always. But it was marked clearly by the lack of his best friend. It didn’t bother him at first. His anger drove him to ignore the little things. But slowly, he would find himself trying to turn to share a story or get Reagan’s opinion and low and behold, reality would set in. Six words had driven a huge rift between the two boys, resulting in a silence that spoke volumes.
For the first few weeks, Will had refused to speak about it. Curious glances were cast between his parents who were well used to having two rambunctious teens in the house, not one sullen one. Andrea had attempted to start a conversation about it. The sour look on her sixteen year olds normally jovial face and steered her clear from the topic. Will Sr. had even taken a wary shot but being the worst at small talk and life things didn’t make it easy (after all, he’d only been able to propose to Andrea after knocking her up). So the two adults left it alone, choosing to let their son come to them if it was something he wanted to run by them.
The summer had nearly been over by the time the dam broke.
He couldn’t remember what it was that triggered it, but next thing he knew, he was silently crying over his plate at dinner. You don’t understand. He’d tried to explain to them, hating their pitying glances more than anything. While he hadn’t spoken about it, his parents were smart enough to understand that Will’s heart was shattered. I-i tried and all he had to say was that I shouldn’t worry about it and that ‘it’s not serious’ like I didn’t matter anymore than the next person.
Those were the thoughts that had spiralled in his head for weeks. The ones that kept his smiles short and gloomy.
His only constant was the reassuring coil still wrapped around his upper arm, indicating that Faust was there with him. The little white cornsnake, a gift from his former(?) best friend, was the only thing he couldn’t get rid of. The small creature would still flick its tongue against his skin, almost in a sign of comfort and Will wasn’t about to ditch his best slithery bud just because his human one was an idiot. Faust was the better choice anyway. He’d ignored any owls from their mutual friends and hadn’t gotten a single one from Reagan anyway. Not that he’d read them if they came, but he didn’t think he’d get any relief burning them either.
It made the summer go by in a blur and it wasn’t long before the Cetus found himself sitting in front of the blue fire, wishing that he could melt into the floor. He didn’t want to be at Hogwarts, for once. He could only imagine what the latest gossip would have been if he had. Still, even RMI wasn’t that much better. Will couldn’t help the quick half smile that formed on his features of the irony that Drew seemed to be going through something similar. “I completely understand that mate,” he said, arms looped loosely around his knees. “Been doin the same all summer. But I reckon it’s more difficult when you were actually together.” His smirk turned sour. “You know, I got expelled from Hogwarts for my best mate, who I was pretty sure I loved and all he had to say to me when I told him was that his feelings were never serious.” He wasn’t sure why Drew was the safe choice to talk to, but if it was anyone at RMI, he supposed it should be his roommate.