In Multiples of Three ✓

1. the beginning

ONE
the beginning

Sometimes Marcus deeply regretted taking a gap year.

            Especially when the person he had a pathetic crush on was taking one, too. Throughout the whole year, mainly while everyone else was away at college, Marcus was left to hang out with Ashton and Ashton only. This resulted in Marcus' feelings only becoming much more than a crush; and it was painful.

             It didn't help that Ashton was overly affectionate, and it was both a blessing a curse that he was one of the most oblivious human beings alive. Marcus could say, straight to his face, "I like you," and the dumbass would reply:

             "I like you, too!" With a bright smile and then an offer to play some videogame for the next few hours. It was thoughts like that that had Marcus deeply wishing he could go back in time and refuse to take Ashton's hand. In Isaiah's stupid car, on their stupid last day of senior year, and with Ashton's stupid self.

But now their gap year was over, and Marcus was carrying his boxes to his car, his dad and Ashton helping him out. Marcus' father, Anthony, was a stoic man. Always had been, always will be. So it didn't come as a shock to him when he simply squeezed Marcus' shoulder and told him, "Bye, don't get in trouble," instead of hugging him and saying, "We love you. Drive safe."

Marcus forced a smile. "I won't," he promised, but his father saying that made him want to be on his worst behavior. Just to see some kind of emotion on his face other than muted appreciation and under the surface annoyance.

When Anthony went back inside to grab another box, Ashton faced Marcus with a weak smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. His cheeks were flushed, the hair at the nape of his neck damp with sweat. He didn't look as upbeat as he usually did, and it sent a shock straight through Marcus' heart. He didn't like that look, not one bit.

"I'm gonna miss you," Ashton said with a sigh. He hobbled forward to hug Marcus, and he just let it happen, awkwardly patting his back. "I wish I would've chosen the same school as you. I'll be all alone."

"We're not that far apart, man," Marcus replied, rolling his eyes. "Don't be dramatic."

Ashton looked up at him, chin digging into his chest, causing Marcus to falter at the tears that were welling up in his eyes. Fuck, don't cry, he thought desperately. You're not supposed to cry. You don't cry. You're Ashton - the happy, go-lucky stoner-without-the-weed dude.

                   "But you're my best friend," Ashton mumbled, thumping his head back down against Marcus' chest. "I've seen you all the time. And now I won't be able to because of assignments, and projects, and becoming an adult. And distance, that's the worst one."

                  Marcus went to say something, but heard the sound of his father talking to his mother. So he pushed Ashton away just in time for the older man to walk back outside, box cradled in his arms. Ashton didn't question it; he probably didn't even notice. He was so oblivious he couldn't even spot an ounce of tension when it was right in front of him. And it was.

                 Marcus' relationship with his family wasn't the best. His mom, Eva, was never home - probably out feeding her cravings for alcohol and infidelity. But Marcus didn't feel bad for his dad, because he wasn't loyal, either. They were both shitty partners, and equally as shitty parents. But at least they were paying for his tuition, so Marcus didn't give a flying shit about what happened to them.

                 He only had one sibling, and that was his older brother, Blake. He was twenty six and had moved out as soon as possible when he turned eighteen, not bothering to take Marcus with him. He used to be pissed about it, but now he was glad he didn't. He met Ashton, Isaiah - all of his friends. Even though he caused some of their ups and downs, but he still had them. And he'd rather be stuck with shitty parents and incredible friends rather than a decent brother and none at all.