In Multiples of Three ✓

5. hopelessly

FIVE
hopelessly

Marcus woke up with a problem.

               Not that kind of problem. But it involved Ashton and his phone that wouldn't stop buzzing on the bedside table. It forced Marcus to open his eyes and reach over, not exactly aiming to see whatever it was on the screen, but to simply turn on Do Not Disturb so he could go back to sleep.

               It always came as a surprise to Marcus when Ashton talked to girls, flirted with them, all that shit. He was so used to him just being cute and soft all the fucking time, that the messages he saw felt like a slap to the face. He knew he had no right to be jealous or bitter, but he couldn't help it — the guy he liked attracted so many girls that couldn't get enough of him either.

samantha !! -
when are you gonna be back? I have a surprise

samantha !! -
[Sent an image]

samantha !! -
[Sent an image]

                 Marcus swiped up and put it on silent. He placed it facedown and stared up at the ceiling, hating the feeling of tears pricking his eyes. The sharp squeeze to his heart, the painful lump in his throat. Ashton's love life was none of his business. Marcus knew that, but seeing the previews of those pictures Samantha had sent Ashton made him unnecessarily angry.

                He'd never heard of this Samantha chick, so Marcus could only assume they'd met on campus. In such a short amount of time, Ashton had found a girl to mess around with. He'd made friends, flirted with girls who flirted with him, and Marcus wished it was him, not Samantha. He wanted to be the one Ashton did shit like that with, but he had no chance. Even if Ashton somehow wasn't straight.

               Ashton wasn't a relationship person, from what Marcus had observed over the years. He never really dated anyone - simply did things that you would do in a relationship. He kissed girls, held their hands, did other things. But he never called them his girlfriends. He said he wasn't attracted to them 'that way,' meaning romantically, Marcus assumed. He didn't understand that, but then again Ashton was difficult to understand sometimes.

               Marcus sighed and carefully slid out of bed. He glanced over at Ashton to make sure he didn't wake up, eyes lingering on his parted lips and shut eyes. The sight just made his heart hurt even more. It wasn't fair. Liking someone the way he liked Ashton was so fucking painful.

               After getting dressed, Marcus sent Ashton a text to wake up to, telling him he went to get something to eat. He pulled on his hoodie and left the dorm, jaw clenched tightly to try and keep tears at bay. Don't cry, he reminded himself. This is such a stupid fucking reason to cry. You knew this shit would happen, so you have no right.

              Marcus slid in the cafeteria line to get breakfast, the room filled with quiet conversation. It was only ten AM, so he wasn't surprised that a lot of people weren't up just yet. But Marcus had always been an early riser, usually up around seven on most days. He got used to it after playing baseball since he was six.

               He swiped his ID card and went to grab a table, sitting down and rubbing at his face. He woke up in a bad mood, and he was grateful that it was only Sunday so it wouldn't be hard to concentrate in class. But he still spaced out, barely registering his name being called by a familiar voice.

                "Marcus." A flick to his ear. He flinched and looked up, frowning at Elliott, who was staring down at him with furrowed brows. "You okay?"