At Arm's Length

Theo knew from the brochure that Hill Academy was quite large. The brochure, however, did not give the school an ounce of justice. The sprawling campus had more acreage than students. Among its many buildings set aside for core classes, Hill Academy sported a baseball, football, and American football field, an Olympic-sized swimming pool, two tennis courts, and a running track. For those less athletically inclined, there were computer labs and music rooms galore, as well as a massive library and an auditorium to rival the Apollo.

If all that was impressive to Theo, the list of clubs Roman rattled off was long enough to make his head spin: drama, glee, mathletes, debate team, equestrian (yes, as in horses), art, coding, French, ad infinitum. It was all so overwhelming, Theo had to stop in his tracks out of fear that his head might explode. Roman didn't realize this, of course, until about a minute later. He corrected his oversight quickly to his credit, jogging back to Theo's side at a moment's notice.

"Hey, you good?" he asked, extending a friendly hand towards Theo's shoulder. It only rested there for a moment - which was plenty long to stir the butterflies in Theo's stomach into a frightful tizzy - before the shorter boy took a cautious half-step back.

"Y-Yes," Theo murmured, shrugging his rucksack strap back into place nervously. "It's just... q-quite a bit to take in all at once. I needed a moment to catch my breath."

"Oh," Roman nodded, embarrassment adding a deep red tinge to his olive cheeks, "yeah, sorry about that. I'm a fast talker and an even faster walker. It's a curse, really; runs in the family, y'know?"

Theo swallowed dryly, his blue-green eyes drifting down to the hands wringing the life out of his rucksack strap. "Yes," he mumbled, "I'm afraid I do... more than you can ever know."

He didn't elaborate - and he wouldn't have for all the money in the world - but Roman didn't force him to. Instead, the taller teen just nodded again, reaching out to pat Theo's shoulder again. At the last second, though, his hand stopped cold in midair.

"Is it okay if I touch you?" he asked, "You can say 'no'; I won't be offended. I've noticed you're a little... jumpy. Not that that's a bad thing!"

Theo bit his lip, staring longingly at that long, lean hand. Truthfully, he wouldn't have minded at all. It had been so long since he'd experienced the comforting touch of a friend; a warm handshake; a lover's tender embrace. The moment that last thought crossed his mind, an image of Jason was conjured into his psyche... and a painful lump formed in his throat. Theo shook it out of his mind just as quickly as it appeared, unwilling to think about him - or the "incident" - a moment longer.

"It's... complicated," he said at last. "No physical contact is... p-probably for the best right now. Thank you for asking."

"Hey, no problem," Roman said, "as Student Body Prez, it's my job to make sure everyone on campus feels safe, seen, and respected. That includes you, My Dude."

He held up his knuckles for a fist bump, which Theo shyly reciprocated with a nod. With that, the tour continued to the last stop on Roman's lengthy itinerary.

"...and this is the cafeteria," Roman said, swinging his arms out wide once they were in the middle of the space, "It's open three times a day: breakfast from six a.m. to eight, lunch from noon to two, and dinner is available from seven 'til nine." His eyes widened with realization then, whirling on Theo a second later, "I totally forgot to ask! Which dorm are you in? We might be hall buddies... or roommates! That would be even better!"

"Oh, erm... I'm not living on campus currently," Theo said, shifting his weight awkwardly, "My father rented a flat within walking distance to the school. It was... s-safer... for everyone."

Roman was quiet for a long while. He just... stood there, staring at Theo with a strange, almost calculating look on his face. It unsettled Theo greatly, reminding him of those horrid looks he used to get at his old school back in Birmingham. He regretted ever opening his mouth, afraid Roman saw him as a right nutter, until the taller boy suddenly let out a sigh.

"Man," he murmured, "who hurt you, Theo?"

The question caught Theo so off guard, he couldn't think for a moment. When he realized his hands were trembling, and his rucksack straps were melting under his palms, he hugged himself instinctively. Forcing himself to calm down with a deep, shaky breath, Theo curled his hands into fists under his arms.

"You seem a decent sort, Roman," he said, his tone soft yet ice cold, "...but I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't pry. Please."

"Gah; sorry," Roman shook his head vigorously, "I didn't mean to, honestly! You're right: your business is none of mine. Forget I said anything. Again, diarrhea of the mouth." After pausing to take a deep breath, Roman suddenly moved closer to Theo, perching on the table nearest to him. Although the movement was jarring for Theo, Roman was careful to keep a comfortable distance between them. Close, indeed, but not too close.

"I know we just met, Theo, but I want you to know you can trust me," he said, "If you don't wanna talk, that's okay; you don't have to. Just know that I'm here for you."

In spite of everything, Theo's lips twitched with a small, appreciative grin. "Thank you," he said, "that's very kind of you to offer."

Roman hopped off the table with a shrug, nudging Theo's arm playfully, "Hey, that's what friends are for, right?" he winked. "C'mon; we should get to the office now. You can't start school without your schedule, and we'd better shake a leg if we're gonna get there before first period."

Theo was still reeling from Roman's words, he barely noticed the other boy dragging him along by the hand. Surely, he wasn't serious. No one in the world would be mad enough to actually consider Theo Quill a friend. It was too good to be true.

Or perhaps, it wasn't.

The hand clasped in Theo's felt so genuine; so kind. Despite the unfortunate circumstances surrounding their meeting, Roman had been nothing but open and warm to Theo. More importantly, Theo's hands never once showed the slightest tingle when Roman was holding them.

Maybe - just maybe - his father was wrong.

The rest of the day went swimmingly; Theo only got lost on the way to class twice, and no major catastrophes ensued. Everyone he met at the Academy seemed quite friendly to boot. Or, perhaps, they were simply curious about their new transfer student from across the Pond. The attention got a bit overwhelming after a while, but thankfully Roman was there to disperse the mob before things got out of hand.

More surprising than the number of students flocking to Theo were the ones drawn to Roman. Not that Theo could blame them, of course. A bloke as handsome, kind, and charismatic as Roman was meant to be popular. The student body president seemed to be a lad of many talents, as Theo quickly learned. Roman apparently starred on both the American football and baseball teams, as well as captained the debate team and served as editor for the school newspaper. It boggled Theo's mind how one person could juggle so much at once. Roman, however, took it all in stride.

As popular as Roman was with the boys at Hill Academy, it paled in comparison to the attention he got from the girls. They made hideous fools of themselves, all a-titter over everything Roman said or did. Frankly, Theo found it quite nauseating to witness. It answered a very pressing question on his mind, however. No doubt remained at all when Roman introduced Theo to one girl in particular: Luna... his girlfriend.

Theo was admittedly disappointed, but he tried his best not to dwell. Luna was quite a pretty girl; the prettiest in the entire school, he'd wager. Any chap would be lucky to have her on his arm. Besides, it wasn't any business of Theo's who Roman chose to date.

He finally made it home again a little after four o'clock. The flat was pitch black when Theo opened the door, and all the curtains were drawn over the windows. A nervous, dry gulp tightened his throat as a rush of warm air greeted him from out of the darkness, followed by the familiar scent of burning tobacco.

Dad was home.

"You're late," a gruff voice rumbled from the sofa, shortly before the bright yellow-orange glow of a cigarette glimmered to life in the dark. A fresh plume of smoke wafted across the flat toward Theo, carried on the back of a heavy sigh. "Classes were supposed to let out half an hour ago. What happened? I want a full report."

"Nothing," Theo said quickly, leaving his rucksack and shoes by the door, "I got here as fast as I could, Dad, truly. It just took longer than I thought to say goodbye to my new friend."

As soon as his eyes adjusted to the dark, Theo made his way over to the fridge. The tiny bulb inside it felt as bright as a floodlight when he opened it, forcing him to wince a little. The next thing he knew, a face was at his elbow; pale, gaunt, and deeply etched with disapproval in the glow of the open fridge door.

"What friend?! We've discussed this, Theodore: friends are liabilities... or did you forget that valuable lesson already?!"

Theo flinched and took a half step back, tucking his hands under his arms automatically. "I didn't forget, Dad," he stammered, "I... I just thought-"

"Silence," the older Quill snapped. Both his hands shot out in an instant, palms up and quaking with barely contained rage. "Hands. Now."

Theo swallowed nervously again, staring at his father's battered, black leather gloves. Thaddeus Quill had worn that same pair every day - morning, noon, and night - for as long as Theo could remember. Theo didn't learn the reason why, however, until he'd turned sixteen... when the Curse began affecting him, too. Reluctantly, he held out his hands to his father, flinching when those leather-clad digits clamped down tight on his. The instant they did, small sparks crackled from his fingertips. Thaddeus snuffed them out with a quick pat, his eyes softening when they met his son's again.

"The rules we live by may seem unfair," Thaddeus rumbled, "...but they serve two purposes: to protect those around us, and to protect ourselves. Each year that passes, the Curse will be more difficult to control. We cannot afford any more accidents... like Jason. Am I clear, Theodore?"

Theo tore his hands from his father's grip, then stuffed them deep into his trouser pockets. "Yes, Dad," he mumbled, barely holding back his tears, "I understand."