take me under

From the doorway of the ship’s hospital wing, Serean Wiloh looks perfectly normal to James.

James doesn’t know why there had to be a big spectacle about the whole incident, really, when the other boy is clearly doing just fine. He looks rather forlorn and pathetic at the moment, sure—staring out the ship window at the bobbing sea, a blank, unreadable expression on his face—but that’s to be expected from Wiloh.

He’s fine. All that’s different is there’s a sickly sort of flush to his pallid skin and a gauze pad taped to the side of his temple, stained with blood.

Because of you, says a traitorous voice in James’s head.

Guilt tugs at him, a vague, uncomfortable pull.

He ignores it, holding his chin up high instead.

“Accepting visitors?” he says lightly from the doorway, leaning against the frame.

Wiloh’s head whirls around to him so fast James is shocked his neck doesn’t break.

“Leave,” he snaps at James immediately.

An obvious reaction. Disappointing from him, really.

James puts his hands up in a show of innocence.

“Relax,” he says easily. He pulls the door closed behind him, leaving it open just a crack. “I’m here on Nicole’s orders.”

“I don’t give a shit whose orders you’re here on,” Serean snarls. His fists are clenched in his blanket so tightly his knuckles look white. “Get the fuck out.”

James drapes himself over a chair next to Wiloh’s bed, slinging an arm across the back of it.

“So dramatic,” he drawls. “Good to see you haven’t lost your spirit.”

Serean already has one leg slung half off the mattress.

“I’ll show you dramatic,” he hisses.

“Junping to violence already? No need for that, Wiloh. You know how that’ll end for you.”

The bark of Serean’s laugh is sharp and cold.

“I’m violent,” he echoes, and leans forward. “That’s a good one, Harden.”

James raises an eyebrow at him. “Meaning?”

“Meaning,” Serean hisses out, “you should be a little more self-aware before you start throwing out insults like the insecure little boy you are. You call me violent, but need I not remind you it was your best friend who tried to kill me only an hour ago.”

“He didn’t mean to—”

“Does it matter,” Serean interrupts, rather shrilly, “whether he meant to send me overboard or not, Harden? That is what happened. I can’t swim.” His fists clench even tighter. “I could have drowned.”

“If you really need someone to blame, blame me,” James says. “I told him to trip you.”

“I know you did,” Serean says venomously, and James blinks. “I know you, Harden.”

“You don’t know me, Wiloh. You barely know anyone. You don’t have any—”

“And I know your little clique,” Serean continues, as if James had never spoken at all. “And I know,” James observes him lazily as his fingers unclench and twitch against the sheets, “that Waters is a pathetic little sycophant—”

“I don’t even know what that means—”

“—who wouldn’t breathe,” Serean breathes out, “without permission from you.”

“That’s not true.”

“Of course it is,” the boy says coolly. His head thunks hard against the wall behind him, right above his pillow. “You need power over people. Even your own friends.” He gestures to James with an open palm. His hand is wide and thin, his skin dry. “It is somewhat of a strength, your narcissism.” His lip curls. “As today has clearly proved, it is also a devastating weakness.”

“Aren’t you a creepy little analyst?”James asks, amused. “Obsessed much?”

“I know that you’re the leader of your idiotic group,” Serean continues. “So rest assured, Harden—I don’t blame Waters for anything. I blame you.” His thin brows narrow. “I’ve always blamed you. For all of it.”

James rises up from his chair, relishing in the look of suspicion that flickers across Serean’s face as he does.

“I never realized I was so important to you, Wiloh,” he says sweetly.

“You continually misconstrue my intelligence for your own benefit,” Wiloh seethes, red-faced. “You are nothing to me.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“Get out,” Serean tells him again, this time through gritted teeth. “Unless you have more insignificant nonsense to—”

“I just wanted to make sure you knew,” James interrupts him, rather carefully, “that it wasn’t on purpose.” This time.

“Like the rest of your irritating little bullying campaigns against me have been?” Serean folds his thin arms tight across his chest, glaring at James. “Good to know, Harden. But I don’t care.”

“Bullying?” James laughs at that. “We only make fun of you because you deserve it, Wiloh. How can we not? I mean…” James smiles pitifully down at him. “You’re kind of the worst, you know.”

The other boy’s dark eyes are narrowed into slits.

“And why,” he asks venomously, “does the great James Harden consider me the worst?”

“You’re ugly,” James starts off, holding out a finger to count. “You’re rude. You suck the life out of the room. You’re… well, a loser—”

“How mature,” Serean snaps. A moment passes, and a twisted smirk crosses over his face. “I know that’s not really why.”

James decides to entertain him, just this once. “Why do I hate you, then?”

“Just admit it, Harden.”

James cocks his head, waiting.

“You hate me because I was friends with Nicole,” Serean says, and James’s smile drops.

“And you were jealous,” he adds, self-satisfaction on his pointed face.

“Jealous?” James repeats, somewhat incredulously. “Of you?” He smiles back, nothing but sheer pity in it. “Don’t be delusional, Wiloh.”

Serean just stares at him, calculating. “I know I’m right.”

“You’re wrong,” James says.

Serean leans forward, a menacing gleam in his eyes.

“I bet it was the best day of your life when I went and fucked that up, wasn’t it?” he whispers. “I bet you started jumping for joy at the mere chance that she might want you instead. But she didn’t, did she?”

“You don’t know anything,” James says irritably. “She never even liked you.”

“She probably hates you even more now,” Serean adds to himself, a nasty sort of triumph on his face. “I doubt she wants to spend time with attempted murderers.”

“Sorry, Wiloh, but she couldn’t care less about what happens to you now—that, I know,” James says angrily. “And I told you, it was a—”

“Mistake?”

“Yes, a mistake!”

“I know you knew I couldn’t swim.” Serean’s tone is too level, too calm, but James sees his nails digging into the flesh of his arms. There’s a madness behind his words, prickling underneath the surface. “You tried to kill me.”

“No,” James denies fiercely, shaking his head.

The rage simmering in Serean’s gaze is nothing short of murderous. “Stop lying.”

“I’m not! Why the hell would I—”

“Get,” Serean hisses, “out.”

“No!” James snaps furiously.

“Then tell me why you’re really here.” Serean leans forward, his eyes glinting malevolently. “Is it really because precious Nicole told you to visit me?” He’s all but shaking with fury. “Does that stupid, bossy bitch control every move you make?”

“Call her that again,” James snarls, advancing on him, “and I’ll kill you, Wiloh. I’ll end your worthless fucking life right here and now.”

Serean straightens, drawing himself up on the bed. “Oh, will you?”

“She hates you,” James hisses out, “and you hate yourself for losing her, and nothing you say about her will change that. The sooner you accept that and move on, the better your miserable life will be.”

“How very touching,” Serean breathes. “But surely—I don’t even have to say it, really—surely you do know she won’t be moving on with the likes of you? Surely you know that girls who hate you don’t tend to become your girlfriend?”

“Shut up.”

Serean doesn’t. “Surely you know she’d sooner lick up the dirt under my feet, even now—”

“Shut the fuck up, Wiloh,” James warns. He’s shaking now, he can feel it.

“—than spend more than a minute with you—the pompous, arrogant bully who people fawn over because he acts a fool. That’s what she says about you,” Serean spits out with a sneer. “You say she hates me now, and that much is true. But she despises you, Harden.” He leans in and whispers, “She hates your fucking guts more than I do.”

James fists a hand in Serean’s shirt and pulls him forward, hard.

He never understood why Nicole liked him. This boy? This fucking ugly duckling? This loner with the messy hair and the scowls and the rude, sardonic comments?

What was so special about him? His intelligence? His cruelty, carefully molded to crack like a whip when he needs it to? His confidence—how it was unwavering, blinding—

James swallows hard, anger and frustration churning in his stomach.

He wants to take it all in his hands—all that Wiloh is—and crush it to pieces.

Serean grabs the back of his head with both hands and pulls, trying to wrench his head away. James feels almost insane, balancing the emotional feelings of his flaring emotions and the physical feelings of his arms and hands, his own insecurities and self resentment weighing him down as the two have the stupidest fight in the world. James can’t even picture how ridiculous they must look right now. Hell, if someone were to walk in, it would look like they’re kissing.

Stop. He doesn’t want to think about kissing with the feel of Serean’s hands in his hair, yanking it back so hard his eyes prickle with tears.

He wonders suddenly, madly, if Serean has ever even kissed another person in his life.

“You ever kiss a girl, Wiloh?” he asks. His own voice takes him aback, the low scratchiness of it.

Wiloh just stares at him, frozen and unresponsive, and James laughs right in his face.

“Yeah, of course you haven’t,” he breathes out. “You pathetic, ugly fuck.”

Hatred sparks behind Wiloh’s eyes. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you,” James says right back, and shoves him hard.

This time, it’s Serean who yanks him close—

—and James doesn’t know what happens next, doesn’t who makes the next move. All he knows is that suddenly he feels a mouth on his, lips clashing violently with his own.

James is the first to break away seconds later, and his first gasp of breath is nothing short of one of horror. What? What? What? His mind is racing to catch up with his body, his heart hammering against his chest.

Serean looks as mortified as he feels, but his eyes aren’t on James. His gaze is fixated behind him.

Slowly, James turns around.

Nicole is standing in the doorway, staring at them. Her mouth is agape, and her fist is now clenched so loosely around the bundle of flowers she’s holding that James expects them to fall straight to the floor.

Pure, hot dread floods James’s stomach.

He shoves Serean away almost violently, ignoring the groan of pain the other boy lets out when he does.

He has to say something to explain this to her. He has to make this all make sense.

“Wiloh’s gay!” he blurts out instead.

Wiloh whirls back around to face him, and the pure hatred in his expression would have taken him off guard if it was anyone else.

“You’re gay!” he accuses, pointing a pale finger right at James’ face.

James blanches. “I am not!”

“You just kissed me!” Wiloh snaps.

“You kissed me!”

“I did not! You’re crazy!”

Wiloh snaps his head back over to Nicole.

“He wants to fuck you,” he tells her vicously.

“I don’t!” James snaps. He feels his face burning, the humiliation of it all a devastating sting. “Shut the fuck up!”

“Both of you, stop talking,” Nicole says. She’s got a complicated look on her face. “I’m out.”

Both James and Serean stare at her.

“You’re what?” James asks.

“I’m done,” Nicole says, with emphasis. “You guys need to figure your shit out, and stop pretending I’m the only reason for it. James, you clearly have some sort of complex going on, and you always have. Hurting someone—anyone, no matter how infuriating you find them—to make yourself feel good is pathetic, and look what it’s resulted in. You and Leon could have killed someone today. And when you,” she jerks her chin pointedly at Serean, “are ready to stop being mean and spiteful, and ready to talk to me about our friendship like a man, I’ll be here, Serean.” She turns her back on them. “Until then, stay the fuck out of my way. Both of you.”

James and Serean don’t utter a word as Nicole turns promptly on her heel and leaves then, slamming the door shut behind her.

Complete and utter silence rises between them, thick enough to slice with a knife.

“I didn’t mean it,” James says finally. “To trip you.”

“You still,” Serean says, each word careful and quiet, shaking his head slowly, “can’t just say you’re sorry, can you?” He looks away. “Because it’s me.”

“I’m sorry,” James admits quietly, and Serean’s eyes widen ever so slightly. “And Leon is, too. We… didn’t mean to take it that far.”

“You always take it too far,” Serean mutters. His fingers are pressed against his bottom lip where James’s mouth had been, and James has to look away. “We’re… similar, in that regard.”

He gestures to the door, and James obliges. He turns on his heel to leave without another word.

—

The next day on the boat ride home from the field trip feels strange. Leon still hasn’t talked to him, and Wiloh won’t look at him at all. That’s fine, though; James wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye today even if he tried.

His mind is off spiraling, Nicole and Wiloh’s words echoing in his head. He hadn’t meant to send Wiloh into the water, that much was true. But how many times had James and his friends make Wiloh feel like he was falling, flailing in the depths of open water with no one to save him?

Why did James hate him so much? Because of Nicole? Because it was easy to? Because he liked him? His stomach flips unpleasantly at that. He didn’t, though. The kiss in the hospital wing was just a fluke, just tension and anger and dislike culminated into a singular point—

James is so lost in thought that he loses his footing, stumbling slightly to the right of the deck before losing his footing and—

Crash!

Icy water engulfs him, and the shock of falling is more startling than the cold.

He doesn’t swim up, not right away.

He can see the students peering over the deck through a murky blue haze. He can see Nicole, her brow creased, her full pink lips in a tight line. He can see Serean too, the gauze pad on his temple, the subtle surprise in his gaze.

Their eyes meet, only for a moment.

James closes his eyes, raises both arms above his head, and pulls.