As he walked away from Lara to head to class, Nick realised he still hadn't corrected her on her assumptions about his sexuality. It was all Blake's fault. If he hadn't shown up, Nick wouldn't have gotten distracted and forgotten. He also wouldn't have promised to go with Lara to the Ace of Spades tonight. Not that he was particularly sad about that; spending time alone with Lara was worth dragging himself outside for, and he could always correct her tonight.

But before that, Nick had to drag himself through his second lecture of the day. It was, funnily enough, a class on social media use and took place in a ridiculously shiny building that people constantly complained about—it was too hot inside because the blinds didn't work well. He wasn't looking forward to it.

While Nick made his way to the big, white staircases leading up to the building, he noticed a shadow right behind him. He held the door open for them, only to almost jolt up in surprise as he looked right into Blake's eyes.

Blake noticed Nick's startled reaction and rolled his eyes as he followed Nick inside.

"Don't go thinking anything," he said. "I just happened to need to go the same way."

"Sure," Nick muttered, and he speed walked to the elevators. He sincerely doubted Blake wasn't here to annoy him because the guy purposely walked right next to him. Blake was surprisingly fast for a guy who claimed to hate any type of exercise that didn't involve a bed. He stepped into the elevator right after Nick.

Nick pressed the button to the fourteenth floor, and Blake the one to the tenth. The elevator doors were slow to close, and Nick urged them to hurry up while Blake looked at him.

"Not that it's any of my business," Blake started, "But whatever, that never stopped me before: weren't you, like, avoiding people?"

Nick crossed his arms. "And aren't you supposed to be partying every night, even if this isn't Spain?" he countered.

Blake scoffed. "I don't have time for that. My major is actually demanding, and I have to study."

"What is your major, anyway?"

"Chemical engineering."

Nick's eyebrows shot up. "Really?" he blurted in his surprise, before he could stop himself.

"What? You figured it had to be either design or fashion?" Blake teased Nick with a grin. "I know I always look great, but I can have more than one interest, you know. Unlike you, football boy."

"Don't call me that."

Blake's smile faded as he studied Nick's tense face, and he nodded. "Yeah okay," he said. "Anyway, were you ever planning on telling Lara you're not actually gay and in denial?"

"None of your business." Nick pressed his lips together.

"She's my friend, so this is actually kind of my business," Blake retorted. "And yours too because she's not going to date you as long as she thinks you're gay and in denial. At least try to impress her tonight, you know, if you want anything from this at all."

Nick glared at Blake. "I don't need your advice, and I didn't ask for it.

The elevator reached Blake's destination, the tenth floor. The doors opened and Blake stepped out with his hands up. "Alright, only room for one in your self-destructive, pity party. Enjoy it. Just don't say I kept my mouth shut, and let you make an idiot out of yourself. See you!"

Blake stepped out of the elevator, waved cheerfully, and then the doors shut. The elevator started moving again. Nick just glared at the closed doors.

Whether he knew it or not, Blake had touched on a sensitive point. The people Nick had thought were friends had kept their mouth shut while they watched Nick work for his dreams. They never even bothered carefully trying to tell him it wasn't going to happen, and maybe it was time to quit. Only after he had already given up did people start casually admitting they already thought it wasn't going to work out with his football career. Granted, Nick wouldn't have been very receptive to the message that he had to quit while he was still living in his illusion, but nobody had even cared enough to tap the glass. He would've gotten mad at them in the moment, but in the end he would've been grateful.

Nick spent his afternoon class fuming and not able to pay much attention. When he came home, he immediately went to his room, still fuming. He caught his own reflection in the mirror. He saw the frown on his own face. Then he looked down and lifted his shirt. While he could still see his abs, the definition was almost completely gone.

When Nick stopped working out, he actually lost weight rather than gained it. He'd been losing his muscles ever since he stopped playing football and going to the gym. Lara would probably be a lot more impressed by the way he looked when he was fit. Nick was pretty sure his body was one of the few reasons why his ex Emma had decided to give him a shot in the end.

Maybe he could try rugby or hockey and accept he'd never be more than a casual player... nah. It'd have to be fitness. No more team sports. He could go to the college gym for an hour or two after class, three days a week to at least keep himself in shape a little.

Nick's frown deepened. He did want to impress Lara, but because Blake said that's what he was after, he wanted to deny it. In any case, Blake did say one thing that was true: as long as Lara still thought he was gay with some sort of internalised homophobia, she wouldn't be interested. If he told the truth, however, maybe she wouldn't want to hang out with him at all... Which was exactly what he was after, in theory.

With a sigh, Nick grabbed his phone from the nightstand and selected his chat with Lara. But what the hell was he supposed to say? 'Hi, I know you think I'm gay but I'm actually not?' Right. Because that wasn't a weird thing to text someone out of the blue at all. There had to be a smoother way to do this—at the very least more of a cause to text her that.

Nick heard the front door open in the hall, and that exact moment he suddenly knew what to say.

'Hi, Blake told me you think I'm gay,' he typed. 'Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not. I still promise I won't spend the entire evening hitting on you though.'

Before he could change his mind, Nick pressed send. Did he just implicate Blake? Damn right he did. There wasn't a single lie in that text: Blake did tell him what Lara thought about him.

Lara came online immediately after his message and started typing. She was fast—before Nick could even start worrying she'd say 'never mind then', she had already replied: 'Hahaha no problem. I'll come to your place tonight.'

Nick replied that was fine and then triumphantly put his phone back on the nightstand. For the first time since he arrived in The Netherlands he willingly went into the living room while he knew Blake was in there too, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Blake was sitting at the kitchen table, occupying the entire space with a laptop, two thick books, and a notebook to write in. He glanced at Nick when he came in, then turned back to his laptop screen.

Nick walked past him and into the kitchen and grabbed himself a glass from the cupboard. On an impulse he then grabbed a second glass and filled them both with water. He walked to the kitchen table and set one glass of water down in the tiny free spot on Blake's right. Blake looked at the glass of water, then up at Nick, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Lara's going to be here tonight," Nick said after a casual sip of water. "Just a heads up."

Blake opened his mouth to respond, but Nick was faster. "Yes, I already told her," he added, unable to keep some smugness out of his voice.

Now both Blake's eyebrows were raised, but then, much to Nick's surprise, Blake only smiled.

"Alright Nick," he said with a wink. "I'll make sure to be out of your way then tonight."