"Did I just see you and Roshon," April was saying, having caught up with Pelham on his way to the examination hall, "talking?"

Pelham, who was currently poring over his thick Chemistry textbook whilst gnawing on his pencil, barely spared her a glance. "We were discussing over this," he said, flicking a page and muttering under his breath. "You are aware that I'm very bad at this subject."

"Without killing each other, though?" she pressed on. "Pelham-"

"D'you think they want us to balance every chemical equation we make?" Pelham wondered aloud, finally looking up at her.

April blinked. "I don't take ..." she shook her head. "Pel, c'mon."

Pelham finally snapped his textbook shut and focused his attention on her. "He came over last night to talk," he said. "So we talked."

"So you two talked? Just like that?"

"What, are we supposed to hash over political matters or something?"

"No, it's just ..." she bit her lip, trailing off. Pelham knew what she was trying to convey there. It was all over the anguish in her eyes.

"We're fine," Pelham tried to reassure her. "Okay?"

"I can see that," she said. "But he ... well, you know, he kinda ditched you and pretended you never existed."

"At least he didn't try to make excuses to defend himself," he shrugged. "He just admitted he was being a bastard."

"Aren't you mad, though?"

"I was," Pelham nodded.

"But?"

"But I don't think staying mad at him will get me - get both of us - anywhere," Pelham explained. "It's kind of pointless, you know? Not to mention stupid. Besides, he needed someone to listen to him - that's pretty important. Being ignored might just be the worst feeling ever."

"He acted like a complete prick to you!"

Pelham sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm aware. Everyone can become jerks. It's only a matter of time before someone sees them for who they are under different circumstances," he said. "Doesn't mean it makes them a bad person."

"Don't you think you're not being fair by forgiving him, though?"

"Life never is fair, April," he said. "And who says I've forgiven him completely?"

"But you two talk,"

"That's not a crime now, is it?" he said. "Yes, he was a prick, but I don't hold grudges, April. In one way or another, things will still work out between us."

April was looking intently at him, her eyes softening. Her hand went up to touch his wrist, instead she curled her fingers into a fist and dropped it to her side. "Lucio's a lucky guy," she murmured to nobody in particular. "Well, good luck for Chemistry. I'm sure you'll ace it."

And by that, she hurried off in another direction - towards the library, as Pelham observed, seeing as she wasn't sitting for any examinations that day. He tried not to think about her words regarding Lucio - despite the fact that they were currently swimming in his head, refusing to stay put - as he headed towards the examination hall, where the rest of his batch who were taking Chemistry could be seen waiting apprehensively outside.

It was true that Pelham and Roshon talked earlier on - mainly Pelham asking questions that had relevance to their exam subject that day, really, owing to the fact that Roshon was very good at it. The latter had been somewhat self-effacing when Pelham approached him in the corridor earlier on, and Pelham could only presume that Roshon thought he was never going to let him off. Not that Pelham had put much thought to it. Sure, it still stung whenever he recalled the brawl they'd had a few weeks back. But he had long since learned that focusing on one petty thing for far too much than the things that were actually worth focusing on wouldn't get him anywhere.

April, he thought, might not forgive Roshon. And he didn't have a problem with that. For all he knew, the human race wasn't impeccable; some people just acted and said things without weighing up the consequences - be it good or bad - almost as though they were in an agentic state, being stirred mainly by their subconscious.

*

"It was okay," Lucio was saying, stirring his chocolate milkshake with his straw. "Not sure if my results will be okay, though."

Pelham snorted. "Don't worry. The threshold will save you," he assured Lucio. When the boy raised an eyebrow at him, he sighed. "It did for me."

"Even without the threshold, you'll still get an 'A' for Maths," remarked Lucio, receiving a light kick on his shin by Pelham.

They were, once again, in the food parlour, though this time April couldn't join them due to some revisions that she still needed to finish. Pelham had asked Roshon earlier, as soon as they were finished with their paper, whether he wanted to join him for a revision session in the parlour. But the latter had merely declined the offer, stating that he was the type to revise alone. "Of course. Over the course of countless weeks, I'd nearly forgotten some of the things about you." Pelham had said, meaning it as a jest, though Roshon seemed to wince as he said that.

In the end, Pelham and Lucio went together after running into him on the way there. Really, Pelham hadn't planned on asking him, since he had a decent speculation that the boy - like everyone else - needed to revise at home. But that wasn't until Lucio asked where he was heading - after Pelham answered that he was going to "the usual parlour" - did they go together.

At first, it had been fairly cloddish for both of them; sitting across from each other, their legs stretched out beneath the table so they ended up entwined with one another, and every now and then one of them would glance up from their notebooks to look at the other, only to avert their gazes when the other one was already looking at them. There was also the occasional brush of legs when one of them shifted. It was vague, all right. Satisfactorily inadvertent. But it sent warm tingles all over Pelham's body nonetheless.

"Tell me why you don't wanna revise at home again?" Lucio asked.

"It's starting to suffocate me, honestly," Pelham answered. "And I can't really concentrate when Oris keeps knocking on my door simply 'cause she can and won't get scolded."

"How is she, by the way?""

"She's her. Happy-go-lucky. Three-year-olds. Almost four. You name it,"

"And," Lucio was biting on his lower lip before looking up at Pelham from underneath his lashes, "your mum?"

Normally, Pelham would deflect such question, seeing as it simply induced him with internal pain. But now, he supposed it wasn't exactly going to physically wound him, that it was simply Lucio asking him an emollient question regarding his mother's physical and mental well-being. A question that people hardly ever asked because they were hardly ever concerned with it, unless they cared.

Besides, Lucio knew pretty much what was going on between Pelham and his mother. Perhaps not exactly much, but enough that he could empathise with him. All in all, deflecting such question would be pointless.

"My mum is ... out and about," Pelham replied, not meeting Lucio's gaze. He began to chuckle. "I shouldn't have come out to her."

"And live in, what d'you call it, a charade for the rest of your life?" Lucio sounded put out. Pelham couldn't blame him. "You're torturing yourself."

"I know, Luc. I get it," Pelham put his hands up before his chest with his palms out in submission.

"As long as she can tolerate you under the same roof,"

"Does pretending I don't exist count as her simply tolerating my existence?"

Lucio shrugged. "At least you're still in the same country. The same hometown," he noted.

Pelham shifted one of his legs under the table, so now his legs were practically straddling Lucio's, holding him there. "When's your next paper?" he asked, changing their topic, flicking a page from his notebook to scribble something down while doing so.

"Wednesday. Physics practical," the boy answered in what sounded like a pained voice. "I hate practicals."

"And why is that?"

"I mess up a lot,"

"Sounds fun,"

"Not when you're electrocuted, no,"

"Electrocution brings about fatal consequences," Pelham stated, folding his arms atop the table. "I see you're still breathing."

"Am I?"

Pelham fought the urge to haul him from across the table and kiss him until the boy ran out of breath himself.

The door to the parlour was pushed open, and Pelham - momentarily distracted by it, his eyes flitted over Lucio's head - nearly paled at seeing the new customer that had just entered. Regardless of only seeing him once, the straight jet-black hair had seemed to be implanted in his brain as a prominent memory, adequately discernible even by a single glance. Apart from that, Pelham doubted he would remember the boy at all had it not been April spitting fire in his face during the last time they saw him.

Pelham observed as Jordie strode across the parlour and towards the counter, where Errol was currently busy fixing the cash register.

The blond boy looked up, about to greet the customer. Though, at the sight of the Asian boy standing across from him, his lively expression seemed to diminish.

"What are you looking at?"

Lucio's question caused Pelham to break his attention from both boys. "The menu," he answered, glad that Lucio had mentioned 'what' instead of 'who'. "I'm just wondering what else to buy ..."

"On a high budget, huh?"

"Shut up,"

"You're always looking for something to eat,"

"I'm always looking forwards to survive," Pelham remarked, before getting to his feet and heading straight towards the counter.

If Errol and Jordie were bickering, nobody noticed it - unless, of course, they were paying close attention on how the words flowed out of their mouths. Upon hearing them, they sounded more tart than what Pelham had ever heard, specifically when it came to two people having a quarrel.

It was all over Errol's face when Pelham came up behind Jordie, scanning the menu boards mounted on the wall behind, to the freezer that contained fizzy drinks and cakes, even though he already knew what he was going to order.

"... and if you're not here to apologise, you may leave," Errol was saying, his eyes and voice steady.

Really, Pelham didn't mean to eavesdrop. They were just in his hearing range.

"Is that a way to treat a custumor? I may as well call the police again," came Jordie's reply, and Pelham could distinctly see his shoulders shake in suppressed laughter.

Errol seemed to flinch at the words, though his gaze remained unwavering.

Eventually, Pelham heard Jordie sigh. "It was Shandee who made the report, you know," he said, as if trying to placate Errol, his tone less bitter.

Pelham could only presume that the topic they were having now was somewhat personal - for Errol, at least. He knew he should leave them alone, order his food later - that was, if he still had any appetite left in him - as soon as Jordie was out of sight. But Errol's next comeback seemed to hold Pelham in place;

"She did what she was supposed to do - what anyone was supposed to do," said Errol. "She was acting accordingly. I don't blame her."

"How sweet. Defending your girl."

"What about you, eh? Dalma let you off the hook?"

Jordie's shoulder tensed. Pelham was still not used to seeing Errol so serious, so sombre. He was starting to regret ever coming here, and hearing this exchange between them take place was seriously propelling him to places he wasn't familiar with. Why, as he had so often asked himself, had he decided to step out of his comfort zone? Really, he didn't know which was worse; the closet or reality. Both were frightening.

Either way, he knew all too well that the truth could kill.

He was about to turn and go back to his seat with Lucio, when he heard his name being called out. "Pelham!" Errol's voice had gotten quite radiant now, a stark contrast to the solemn one earlier. "Chocolate waffles again?"

Jordie had stepped aside swiftly to let Pelham come forwards. If Pelham didn't know any better, Errol was desperate to get rid of Jordie, the latter of whom was currently eyeing Pelham as though he was someone dodgy. "No, I ..." Pelham tried to pick his words carefully, but failing.

"Please. You overheard us," Jordie waved his hand in the air dismissively.

"I was close enough to hear them," Pelham retorted in his defence, his cheeks hot. "You were being loud."

"Yes, that was the whole point of it, actually ..."

"I think I need you to leave, Jordie," said Errol, his tone suddenly cold.

"Not so nice to a customer, are you, Balker?"

"You haven't ordered anything. I doubt you ever will. So you're not exactly a customer," Errol rejoined. "You're here for the sole purpose of this."

Pelham saw something pass between their eyes, one that was so quick and vague that he failed to decipher. He reckoned that was his cue to leave. For all he knew, he wasn't April. The girl would know how to respond, how to act accordingly. He supposed this wasn't his fight; he might as well be trespassing into a foreign territory.

"I remember your face ... you were with that girl last week," Jordie pointed out, his eyes narrowing in Pelham's direction as if in recognition.

"April Francis, being that girl who pretty much drove you away by words? Yeah, she's that girl," Pelham said, his wits finally coming together.

Jordie pressed his lips together, and Pelham could visibly see his jaw clenching. Behind the counter, Errol was suppressing a laughter, his lips pressed into a thin line, their corners trembling. When Jordie glowered at him, Errol grinned as if in triumph.

"Got your lackey of a boyfriend back you up, is that it?" Jordie said, trying to look haughty.

"Pretty sure his boyfriend is sitting right over there," Errol jerked his head in Lucio's direction. Jordie chanced the boy sitting alone with his head bent over his notebooks a glance, before addressing Errol.

Pelham - blushing, for he and Lucio hadn't exactly discussed on what was currently happening between them - didn't wait any longer before he moved away and returned to his seat with Lucio, who looked up expectantly. His lips drew into a frown when he saw that Pelham came back without any food. "You were there pretty long and you didn't buy anything?" he commented.

"What, you were here hoping I'd buy you something?" Pelham snorted. "As if."

"Didn't know you could be this mean."

"Didn't know you could be this spoiled."

*

It was already dusk by the time Pelham reached home, having had accompanied Lucio to his place beforehand. Not that the boy asked for it. In truth, Pelham merely wanted to stall before he really made his way home. Of course, that was after Lucio kissed his cheek, causing him to push Lucio against the wall of Aunt Fabia's garage and kiss him until they both ran out of breaths, stopping only when Aunt Fabia opened the front door. "He has a room, you know." she'd said.

"I'm home!" Pelham called out once he stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Not that he was expecting a reply; he merely said that out of habit, considering the fact his mother hardly ever answered him nowadays.

Loosening his tie, he headed upstairs, taking them two at a time. His brain was currently swirling with mathematical formulas along with scientific terminologies, and he simply couldn't wait to hop into shower and clear his head.

It wasn't until he opened the door to his bedroom did he halt his tracks. "What're you doing here?" he asked, feelings his eyebrows draw into a frown.

His mother, who was currently seated on the edge of his bed, closed Pelham's laptop shut and put it aside. Her gaze was unwavering, though Pelham could tell that she was quite startled at being discovered there, in his room, holding his laptop. Pelham couldn't remember the last time she'd been there; it felt like an eternity ago.

"I cleared my web history. There's nothing you can find there," Pelham noted dully.

Jody shook her head and wiped her palms along her thighs. "You've been out a lot lately," she observed.

"I'm surprised you noticed,"

She winced. "Look, Pelham ... listen-"

"Look, Mum, I just sat for my Chemistry paper, and I just had a revision session with Lucio, and I'm tired," he said, stepping into his room and holding the door open at an arm's length. He didn't exactly ask her to leave, but she should get the cue that he didn't want her in his room. Not right now.

"Pelham, I just want to-"

"Apologise?" Pelham said, his tone impassive, though he knew his eyes displayed otherwise. "I don't know, Mum. Rosh came over to apologise too. Did you two plan this?"

Jody gaped at him. "No?"

"Coincidence at its best, I guess,"

"Don't you wanna hear me out, at least?"

That simple question nearly hurled Pelham into a fit of rage. "Don't you?" he asked, his voice almost cracking at the mere prospect of it - how downright blinkered it was. Not now, not now, not now. "Have you?"

He was never this brusque, not towards his parents - especially his mother, who was normally so pleasant when she was around. He was raised a cultivated boy, always so gracious with his manners and speech. But he supposed, like the brawl that he'd started at school just the previous month, there was a first time for everything.

He wanted to cry out, have a fit, throw a tantrum, just rage. Funny, how just this morning everything went all right. No hindrances. Just the thought of exams occupying most of his brain, drawing in his full attention. Now it was like someone had draped a cloth over his world, plunging him into sheer darkness, as though that someone didn't like to see him feel okay, as though that someone wanted him to be racked with pain.

"You know, I haven't quite forgiven Roshon completely. Not yet. But he never asked for my forgiveness. He just apologised," Pelham said when his mother didn't reply. "But if he's willing to make up for it, I'm not gonna stop him. I'm not a prick. I know myself too. But now ... it feels like people are taking advantage of me. Wound me all they want, 'cause I'll forgive them easily, right? That nice kid next door who goes to a private school and knows his crap around Mathematics? Pretty resilient. He'll never break. Throw him around, justify your reasons, he'll understand. He'll forget about it."

His mother was standing now, her eyes shining under the lights. Pelham cast his attention downwards, taking a deep breath. His throat felt tight, and he was aware that his eyes were brimming with hot tears. "Pelham-"

"I think I just wanna be alone for now." he said in a clipped tone, not chancing Jody a single glance as she swept past him and left his room.

He hadn't realised he was crying.