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svedone-writes · 5 years

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it was always you | t.h. | year one, part two

pictures from the esquire china shoot and the man about town shoot, others are stock/public domain, moodboard created by me!

series masterlist

series summary: tom holland is your boy next door–well, technically, he’s the boy across the hall, but that’s not important. what isimportant is that you’re now in college, the perfect time to branch out and try something new. tom is the perfect way to do that: he’s attractive, funny, kind, caring–and unfortunately, not into you…or so you think.

chapter summary: the aftermath of your confession. tom isn’t great at making good decisions.

warnings: mentioned underage alcohol usage, minor swearing

word count: 3k

author’s note: please read my recent psa about this series! in summary, parts going forward are going to be a lot shorter than the first one and “year one, part three” may be postponed a week. my psa gives a full explanation! also, someone asked about a tag list--since this series updates at the same time every week, i probably won’t do a taglist. however, in the future for blurbs/new series/whatever, i would definitely be open to one, so let me know if you’d like to be on that!

anyway, enjoy, and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated! big thank you to those who have given me feedback so far :)

you woke up with a slightly pounding head. sunlight was poking through the curtains that were haphazardly pulled across the window. when the light met your barely-open eyes, you groaned in protest and fumbled for your phone to see what time it was.

right when you saw that it was noon, a knock sounded at your door. “____? you awake?” came tom’s muffled voice. the sound of his voice brought memories of the previous night rushing to the forefront of your brain: meeting henry, tom walking you home, and most embarrassingly, your drunken confession. “____, if you don’t answer the door i’m gonna think you’re dead and steal all your stuff.” you smiled at that despite the hollow ache in your chest—everything was about to be different between the two of you, and you weren’t ready to lose him completely. you figured that your relationship with tom would now be awkward and strained, and soon enough you two would grow part. it was almost too much to bear.

he knocked again. “alright, alright, i’m getting up,” you called back to him as you slowly shifted out of bed. standing up made your headache substantially worse, and it took all your effort to answer the door instead of just climbing back into bed.

when you finally opened the door, tom grinned before immediately looking concerned. “wow, no offense, but you look like shit.”

“thanks, tom, really appreciate that,” you whispered with your eyes closed in an effort to block out the fluorescent hall lights. “anyway, what did you wake me up for?”

he shuffled awkwardly. “uh, well first i just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“awful. next question.”

“and second…how much of last night do you remember? you were pretty drunk.”

you stilled. maybe this was your chance to pretend last night had never happened. but then again…lying to tom wouldn’t be much better—but at least you’d still have him. “not much, to be honest,” you finally said. “i remember getting to the party and meeting…henry, i think his name was? then i remember having a few shots, and from there my memory gets kind of fuzzy.”

tom’s shoulders drooped slightly. “oh. so you—you don’t remember me taking you home?”

why does he sound so sad? you shook your head, your heart already heavy with the lie. “no, sorry. but thank you for doing that.”

he nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “got it. well i…i’ll leave you to it, then.” he turned around to head back into his room. “hope you feel better,” he mumbled before his door clicked shut, leaving you to stand their confused and alone.

you moved back into your room and shut the door behind you. sleep sounded incredibly inviting, but it was already halfway through the day, and you had a few assignments that you needed to complete. after a quick shower, you brought your things into the floor lounge and began working. as you went through some of your assignments, you thought back to the conversation with tom—how he had immediately deflated once you lied and said you didn’t remember him taking you home. was tom that upset that you didn’t remember telling him how much you liked him? why? you reached a startling conclusion: perhaps tom did feel the same way about you. but that doesn’t matter much know, does it? you thought to yourself. he has a girlfriend.

about a half hour into your work, the door to the lounge slowly opened and tom poked his head in. “i thought you might be in here.” he said as he walked into the lounge all the way. his backpack was slung across his shoulder. “d’you mind if i sit with you?”

“of course not.” you replied. tom made his way over and plopped down in the seat across from you. immediately, you felt the guilt of your earlier lie resurfacing, making your chest draw tight. you were so caught up in the feeling that you almost didn’t notice the eye contact you were maintaining with tom—almost. he was looking at you, his chin resting on his hand, with a slightly pinched expression, like there was something he was dying to tell you but couldn’t quite figure out to say. it soon softened the longer you looked at each other, though, as if tom couldn’t bear to be upset with you for too long. a strange tension was beginning to build, not unlike the night he had asked you about your biggest fear and the two of you had almost kissed.

once again, the moment was broken by a buzzing phone—this time, however, it was yours. you quickly fumbled to check what it was. “sorry, it’s just henry.”

his once-soft expression hardened. “the guy from the party last night?” you nodded, and tom scoffed. “what does he want?”

“just asking to see how i’m feeling,” you answered distractedly as you typed out a response.

you: i’m doing fine, a bit of a headache but nothing major. you?

after a few moments he texted back.

henry: i’m fine. according to you i’m an alcoholic heavyweight, remember?

you laughed a little at that before setting your phone down and looking back at tom, who looked much more pissed off than he had been moments ago. “do you like him?” he bit out.

“wow, tom, so blunt,” you attempted to joke with him. once he didn’t laugh, you continued more seriously. “gosh, i don’t know, i just met him last night. i like to get to know people before i decide anything.” not that you had known tom for very long before becoming completely infatuated with him, but you’d never tell him that (while sober, at least). “he did seem like a really nice guy, though. really funny.”

“from what you remember.” he refused to make eye contact with you, instead looking over his textbook, which you could tell he wasn’t really reading.

“yes, tom, from what i remember.”

tom sighed and finally looked up at you again. “i’m sorry, it’s just that from an outside perspective he seems like a creep. but it is what it is.” tom returned to his textbook nonchalantly, trying to signal that the conversation was over.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you furrowed your eyebrows and waited for an explanation. tom continued reading silently, making it clear that he wasn’t going to give you one. “fine, then. how’s emma?” you asked, a little harsher than intended. “did she like the fact that you left her at a party to walk another girl home?”

tom snapped his textbook shut. “that’s really none of your business, is it?”

“then neither is henry!”

“that’s different.”

“how is it different, tom? god, friends aren’t supposed to act like this.” you started angrily putting your things away.

“oh, and how are they supposed to act then? enlighten me.” you definitely didn’t like his condescending tone. this entire argument was making you reconsider your entire friendship with tom—maybe it wasn’t as strong as you had thought. and maybe your infatuation with him was just that: infatuation.

but then you remembered all the times you had talked, whispering to each other in class or joking about anything and everything but always being able to have serious conversations about your hopes and dreams. you thought about the smiles he would give you, some blinding and some soft or understanding, and you deflated, much less angry than before. “i don’t really want to argue with you, tom. sorry i even said anything.” you grabbed your now packed bag and headed back to your room, resolving to do your homework there instead.

the next day, you were standing in the middle of your room, backpack slung over your shoulder. your usual sunday studying with tom would’ve started in about 5 minutes, but a few things were keeping you from just heading over to the lounge: first, there wasn’t a quiz this week in your calculus class because of your midterm the previous week. then there was your argument with tom…you had apologized, but he hadn’t. you weren’t even sure if he wanted to speak to you at the moment; for some unidentifiable reason, he was both angry and upset with you.

your train of thought was broken by a knocking at your door. quickly placing your backpack on the floor, you moved to open the door and were surprised at the sight of tom. “hey, i, uh,” he held up a bag of your favorite candy and some popcorn, plus a pack of your favorite drink. “i thought maybe since there’s not a quiz this week, we could watch a movie instead?” tom then smiled apologetically. “i also wanted to…well, i’m sorry for being such an ass lately.”

“that’s an understatement.” you flatly responded despite the smile on your face. tom winced before noticing your happy expression and quickly gave a shy smile. “that sounds lovely, tom.” you opened the door wider to allow him to come in. “by the way, where did you even find that candy? they don’t have it in any of the vending machines on campus.”

tom hopped up on your bed and settled in as he answered. “i walked to the grocery store. that’s where i got the drinks, too.”

you stopped in your tracks. “the grocery store is almost a half hour walk from campus.”

“and?”

“you walked that far to get me candy?”

he shrugged and replied, “it’s your favorite,” as if that explained everything behind it.

you sat beside him on your bed after grabbing your laptop from your bag. “well…thank you. no one’s ever done something like that for me before.”

tom simply shrugged again, happily munching on the popcorn he had brought while he waited for you to pick out a movie. you finally settled on one of your favorites. as it began playing, you realized just how bright your room’s lights were, and you huffed in annoyance before pausing the movie. “hold on, i gotta turn the light off.”

you started to shimmy off of the bed, but tom beat you to it. “don’t move, i got it.” smiling, you settled back into the bed and waited for him to turn the lights off and rejoin you before starting the movie again. as the movie began, you wrapped yourself up in your comforter. tom looked at you with a pout. “am i not allowed in the blanket?”

“nope,” you responded, popping the “p” loudly. “this is what you get for being a jerk to me yesterday.” tom pouted even harder, and you giggled at his expression until he started trying to wrestle the blanket from your grip. “hey!”

tom quickly moved your laptop off the bed so it wouldn’t be accidently knocked off. “you’ve brought this on yourself,” was all he said before doubling his efforts to rip the blanket away. you were breathless with laughter, just barely being able to fight off his attack and keeping the blanket wrapped around you. tom was grinning, too, and you wished you could stay in this moment forever, with both of you laughing and simply happy to spend time together. “____, if you don’t let me in the blanket, im gonna tickle you.”

“how do you know that i’m ticklish?”

“you told me during the second week of school.”

“wow, so you’d betray what i told you in confidence just to get the blanket?”

tom smiled, a devilish glint in his eyes, and threateningly raised his hands. “yup.” he then began his assault, his fingers dancing up and down your sides. the blanket fell from your body, but tom did nothing to stop his assault to grab it.

your laughter continued as you tried (and failed) to swat his hands away from your torso. “tom!” you managed to shout in between laughs. “you—are so—evil!” finally, you grasped his wrists and held them away triumphantly—until he flicked his hands and was suddenly pinning your wrists above your head, pushing you into laying down.

he was hovering just above you when he whispered, “am i still evil, love?” you could tell he meant it to come across as a playful mockery, but because he had whispered, it came out soft and gentle.

you lightly shook your head in response, all thoughts of the blanket and movie forgotten. your gaze slowly roamed over tom’s face and drank in just how vulnerable he looked. his hair, which was normally styled, was draped across his forehead, a few of his loose curls sticking to his forehead with sweat. his cheeks were red, and his chest was slightly heaving from exertion—and possibly the position you were currently in. you met his gaze again, and your breath caught in your throat when you realized his expression seemed to be pleading with you, like he was offering his heart in his hands and was asking you to never break it. his eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment, and before your mind could even remind you that tom had a girlfriend, he leaned down slowly until his lips just barely brushed yours, waiting for your permission. his nose was resting against yours, and you squeezed your eyes shut at how soft this entire moment was. you were about to move up to meet his lips and—

—there was a loud thump on your door. tom released your wrists and jerked backward so fast he almost whacked his head on the wall. “____!” zendaya called from the hallway. “could you open the door? my hands are kind of full.”

you cleared your throat. “yeah, just a sec!” you hurriedly hopped down from your bed and closed your laptop before opening the door.

zendaya grinned. “hey, roomie!” she happily walked into the room but faltered once she saw tom sitting disheveled on your bed. “and tom. hi.”

“hi. sorry, i’ll uh—i’ll just leave you both to it, then.” tom awkwardly coughed and quickly left your room, shutting the door behind him and leaving you to squirm awkwardly under zendaya’s gaze.

“what just happened?” she set her things down and looked at you pointedly.

“well…” you launched into an explanation about the whole situation—the party on friday, your confession, how you lied to tom about what you remembered, the fight you had with him, until finally finishing with the situation she had walked into and the almost-kiss. “oh god, z,” your voice began to break as your eyes starting tearing up. “he has a girlfriend, and we almost kissed.” you started to cry, then, and zendaya wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulders and guided you to your shared futon. “i’m a shitty person, aren’t i?”

she grimaced. “well…yeah, it would, but the fact that it didn’t actually happen and that you recognize that it was bad helps a lot. did you reciprocate it at all?”

you thought for a moment about what had happened before shaking your head. “no. i thought about it, but then you got here.”

“thinking is a lot different than doing, but still…you probably shouldn’t have considered it. tom shouldn’t have put you in that situation either, though.”

“yeah, that makes sense,” you sniffled. your stomach was now twisting up with guilt, both at the fact that you had almost kissed someone in a committed relationship and that you had lied to tom. “should i tell his girlfriend?”

“oh, god no.” you laughed a bit at her immediate answer. “that’s up to tom, i think. but it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea if you avoided them for a while.”

you nodded in agreement. “that would probably be best.” you both sat there for a while. zendaya slowly rubbed your arm in an attempt to comfort you as you tried your best to compose yourself. “you don’t really like tom, do you?”

she sighed. “i actually do like tom. i think he’s funny and kind, and we get along really well, but he’s still a little childish. he has a lot to learn, and i’m hoping he learned something today.”

“how are you so wise?” zendaya chuckled at that but offered no answer, instead standing up and stretching.

“c’mon, let’s go get some ice cream, and i’ll tell you about my totally boring weekend to take your mind off of it.” she offered you a hand to get up and you gratefully accepted, ready to put the entire mess behind you. all you could think about was tom and how confused you felt—did this mean that tom felt the same about you? would he break up with his girlfriend? but most of all you wondered that even if he did like you back, would it be worth it to be with someone that had almost cheated on their partner?

the next morning, you sat on your bed, contemplating what you were going to do about the calculus situation—you didn’t really want to see tom, but you also didn’t want to miss lecture. beyond that, you also weren’t sure if you wanted to go to class at all. you finally caved to that thought and decided it was high time for a mental health day; after all, you had just finished your midterms and did fine on all of them, so you figured you deserved it.

having finally arrived at a decision, you laid back down and closed your eyes to get a few more hours of sleep in. right before you drifted off, you resolved that at the next lecture, you would arrive at the last possible minute and take the next open seat—as long as it wasn’t next to tom. you did promise yourself, though, that you wouldn’t avoid him forever. just until you figured out how you felt about the whole situation: tom, your feelings for him, his (possible) feelings for you, and henry, whom you’d been texting on and off since the party.

but who knew how long all of that would take, anyway.

is tom really a jerk or just stupid? how will henry fit into all this? why won’t the reader just tell tom she likes him (well, at least while sober this time)? let me know what you think! i would love feedback on anything--my writing style, the plot, what you predict will happen in the future of this story, anything!

a note on tom’s behavior: obviously, the tom we know is 23 years old and has a lot of experience in professional environments. this tom, however, is 18 and has little to none of the same experience.

#it was always you series #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland smut #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x you #(i promise it happens later in the story lol)#zendaya coleman

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svedone-writes · 5 years

Text

it was always you | t.h. | year one, part one

pictures from the esquire china shoot and the man about town shoot, others are stock/public domain, moodboard created by me!

series masterlist

chapter summary: you arrive at college and quickly become friends with your boy-across-the-hall (gee, that’s a mouthful) tom holland. he’s apparently not into you, though, which makes your drunken confession even more awkward.

warnings: mature language, underage drinking

word count: 9.1k

author’s note: my first series! i’m very excited to share this with you all. a few notes: in this, tom has experience acting/dancing (he mentions he was in billy elliot) but has not made it big. the reader is female--i tried making the reader as gender neutral as possible, but later on in the series there will be smut and i only know how to write that from a female perspective. also, ____ pretty much means y/n, i just prefer to use that instead. anyway, enjoy!

your stomach was a bundle of nerves and excitement. it was your first day of college—the beginning of the rest of your life, or at least that’s what everyone said. you’d take classes, figure out your place in the world, and be on your own for the first time.

yeah, okay, that might be a little too romanticized. and technically it wasn’t your first day of classes (those didn’t start until tomorrow). but! you were moving in, and that felt like enough of a beginning for you. you were pulling a cart full of your belongings, gripping your new room key tight in your hand and carefully reading the numbers on all of the doors to find your dorm. there were a lot of other students here on your floor already, and you passed a few rooms with doors already open and briefly got glances of students and their parents unpacking luggage and setting up futons. unfortunately, your family couldn’t make it to help you move in, but you found that you didn’t mind much. you didn’t have much to move in, anyway, since your roommate graciously offered to bring a lot of the bigger items (like your fridge and futon) as long as you stocked up on snacks and drinks for a while.

finally, you reached your room and found that it was already open. you nervously walked in, leaving your cart of belongings in the hall momentarily. “hello?” you asked into the seemingly empty dorm. your roommate zendaya—whom you had matched with in the university’s roommate matching process—had told you she was arriving before you. there was stuff half unpacked, and one of the beds was made, but you couldn’t see your roommate anywhere—until she popped her head out of your shared closet.

“hey! i was wondering when you would get here!” she smiled and stepped out of the closet to greet you. “do you need any help with your stuff? i know you said your family couldn’t come today.”

you gestured to the cart in the hallway. “nah, i’ve got it all. thank you, though! it’s so good to finally meet you in person, by the way.” zendaya smiled a little brighter at that and continued to hang her clothes up. “i mean, i don’t want to sound weird or anything, but you’re somehow way prettier in person than in your pictures.”

she laughed. “thanks!” she already seemed like an incredibly easy-going and kind person, and that made you feel all the more relieved. you’d heard several roommate horror stories before, and you didn’t want to have any similar experiences.

you brought the cart into the room and started unpacking your things. it was a little overwhelming, to be honest, but you picked a bag and started there, slowly making your side of the room a little more homey. you were making your bed when you heard loud voices from across the hall.

“—i mean jeez, haz, you don’t need that many sneakers here! you’re taking up way too much space for all three of us to have our shoes.”

“well, it’s a little late for that now, huh? and anyway, you don’t see me complaining about your stuff.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i mean your ratty ass spider-man bed sheets.”

“fuck off, you know i’ve had those since i was 7.”

“are you hearing yourself talk right now, mate?”

you and zendaya burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer. you were both clutching each other to keep from falling over when the door across the hall opened and one of the boys poked his head out. “no, please, carry on,” you managed to get out in between laughs. he looked a little sheepish as he opened their door all the way.

“note to self, the rooms are not soundproof,” he said. he had striking blue eyes and slightly ruffled blonde hair, with a smile that was almost blinding.

“what? what are they saying?” the other voice said. another boy came to the door and took your breath away a bit. you couldn’t even pinpoint just one thing about him that made him attractive: maybe it was the strong jawline, or his biceps (i mean come on, what kind of college freshman has arms like that) or maybe it was the way he looked at you, full of kindness and warmth and laughter, like you had already known each other for years. “oh, hi, i’m tom. this is harrison.” the first boy—harrison, you tried to commit to memory—gave a little wave.

“i’m zendaya, and this is my roommate ____.”

you smiled brightly, happy that you were already making friends on your first day here. “it’s really nice to meet you guys.”

“you as well,” harrison replied. “we better get back to it. let us know if you’d like to laugh at tom’s sheets some more.” he turned and went back into their room. tom followed, protesting and cursing in the same breath.

once their door closed, you turned to zendaya and let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. she cracked a smile. “they’re kind of hot.”

“kind of? they’re almost unreal,” you whispered, now wary of how much sound your dorm walls didn’t block out. “and there’s two of them.”

zendaya shrugged a bit and went back to organizing her dresser, still smiling. “one for you, one for me, huh?” you laughed at that and continued organizing your things as well. “nah, that’s not for me.” she continued.

“what?”

“just…dating. we’re so young, and i don’t think commitment works out very well at this age. besides, i want to focus on school.” it almost sounded like she’d been burned before by a relationship, but you could also tell she didn’t really want to talk about it.

instead of questioning her further, you simply said, “that’s fair.” the room stayed silent after that until you both were finally finished putting away all of your things. you both stood back by the door, surveying your hard work. your side was a little…eclectic, but zendaya’s half of the room was sleek and well put together. “wow, you have much better style than me.”

“hm, maybe i’ll have to be your personal stylist this year.” you both laughed. “c’mon, let’s go get something to eat, i’m starving.”

the next morning, you were leaving to go to your first class of the day. as you locked the door—zendaya was already gone, having left for an earlier class about an hour ago—the door across the hall opened, and tom stepped out.

“hey! ____, right?” he greeted.

“yeah! and you’re tom,” you pretended to confirm, like you hadn’t thought of him for an unhealthy amount of time last night.

he grinned. “that’s me, thanks for remembering. you headed to class?”

“yeah, calculus, you?”

“no way, me too! is it with professor lang?” you nodded as he joined you in walking toward the exit. “god, i’m not excited. i’m absolute shit at maths, but i have to take it as a gen-ed.”

you wouldn’t exactly describe yourself as a genius with math, but you had done well enough throughout high school. “hm, well, looks like i’ll have to help you study then, if you want.”

he seemed to smile even wider at that. “that would be great.”

as you walked together to your first college lecture, you both told each other about your respective majors and what you hoped to do with them before transitioning to small talk about your lives. tom was in the middle of telling you a story about his younger brothers when you finally reached the lecture hall. it wasn’t as big as you were expecting it to be; it was definitely larger than any high school classroom you’d been in, but you had been imagining a huge auditorium with hundreds of other students in it. instead, your calculus lecture couldn’t have been more than 50 or 60 students.

you moved to sit in one of the front rows, but tom lightly grabbed your arm and nodded toward the back. “d’you think we could sit back there instead?” you chewed your lip nervously before nodding and following him to one of the last rows. someone had told you that it was best to sit in the front few rows during lectures…but you supposed it wouldn’t hurt to sit in the back for one of your classes.

when you did finally sit, tom looked at you gratefully. “thanks, i just don’t want the professor to call on me or something and embarrass myself in front of the whole class. it’s one of my biggest fears.”

“what, embarrassing yourself?” you asked as you took your notebook out of your bag.

“not exactly. i do theater, and one of my biggest fears is being on stage in front of a lot of people and then forgetting all of my lines.” he looked a little embarrassed as he grabbed his own notebook.

you, however, were incredibly intrigued. “that’s really cool. did you do school plays and stuff?”

tom seemed to get even more flustered. “um, kind of? i was in billy elliot when i was 12. i was one of the billy’s.”

your eyes widened in surprise, and a million other questions filled your mind—but then your professor walked in and started class. in high school, the first day was usually just going over the syllabus and chatting about the summer. turns out, in college, it’s not like that at all. your professor introduced herself and briefly went over the structure of the class—

(“there will be two exams in the semester, not including your final. you will also have quizzes every monday over the previous week’s material,” your professor had said. at this, tom looked over at you with wide, panic-stricken eyes, to which you responded by mouthing i’ll help you study. the relief and gratitude in his eyes made your stomach twist almost painfully).

—which only took 10 minutes. the rest of the class was spent going over the entire first chapter of your behemoth of a textbook. most of it was review, thankfully, but tom looked like he was going to break a finger from how furiously he was taking notes. when class finally let out, he turned to you. “this class might actually be the death of me.”

you laughed as you packed up your bag. “you’ll be fine. we can review sunday nights before the quizzes, if you want.”

‘”i’ll probably need more help than that. i require very individualized attention,” he replied with a cheeky smile and a wink.

in that moment, a girl tapped on his shoulder, holding his pencil that must’ve rolled onto the ground. “i think you dropped this.”

tom took the pencil from her and smiled brightly. “thanks, love.”

the girl smiled too, her face much redder than it had been before, before turning and hurrying away. tom turned back to you, still smiling. “you ready to head back?” you were quickly learning your least favorite thing about tom: you genuinely couldn’t tell when he was flirting or just being nice.

“i actually have another class i’ve got to get to, but i’ll see you later?”

he nodded, his shoulders a little lower than before. he almost seemed disappointed that you were parting ways. “i’ll see you later, then.”

the rest of your classes went well, albeit much more boring than the class you shared with tom. by the time you got back to your dorm, you were dead tired, but you still had a few introductory assignments that you wanted to get started with.

zendaya was back as well. when you walked in, she was sitting at her desk, hunched over her laptop. she leaned back at your arrival, though, and smiled. “hey roomie.”

you scrunched your nose as you set your bag down. “ew. please don’t ever call me that again.”

she laughed. “got it. how were your classes?”

“pretty good,” you shrugged, “how were yours?”

zendaya stood, stretched, and then walked over to your shared mini fridge (which you had stocked as requested). “really good, actually. i’m really excited for my journalism class.” she grabbed herself a drink and tossed you one as well.

“that’s really good, z,” you said in between gulps. “i wish i was in at least one class for my major and not stuck taking all of these gen-eds.”

“but then you might not be in a class with tom.”

you choked on your drink at that. “how did you know?”

“i could see it on your face. nah, harrison told me. we happened to be getting lunch at the same time, and he said that tom had mentioned it.”

“did he say what exactly tom said about me?” you questioned, trying (and failing) to sound nonchalant and unbothered.

zendaya didn’t seem to be fooled. “nope. he did say that you offered to help him study for calc.” you looked a little sheepish at that. “just…be careful, okay? i don’t really know tom that well, but…he seems like a bit of a heartbreaker.”

you weren’t sure if you agreed with her assessment of tom, but you nodded anyway. “i promise i’ll be careful.” she smiled and went back to her work, leaving you to do your own and mull over her words.

the rest of the week happened without incident; while your classes didn’t have anything to do with your major, none of them were that unbearable. your worst class would’ve been calc, but thankfully, you had tom to keep you entertained. he was growing on you incredibly quickly to the point that calculus was your new favorite class.

tom had noticed that, too. “why are you always so excited to go to calc?” he asked as you bounded toward him in the hallway of your dorm. you were headed to your friday lecture, and you almost couldn’t believe you’d already made it through your first week of college.

you shrugged. “maybe i just like math.”

“i doubt that, but whatever, keep your secrets,” he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “hey, uh, can i ask you something? like, for advice?”

“sure, what’s up?”

“well, there’s this girl in one of my classes…i really like her, but i don’t know how to tell her without being a total div.”

you hummed in response, your heart racing. you figured it probably wasn’t you. he obviously had classes outside of the one he shared with you, and they all probably had pretty girls in them. but…you also figured that maybe you had the same chances that they had. “it’s okay if you act like a bit of an idiot. it’s kind of cute, and it shows that you’re really into them.”

“really?” he seemed surprised.

“yeah, guys that are too smooth seem like douches, like they’ve done it a thousand times before and couldn’t be bothered. you can be a little smooth, but being dorky and cheesy is also really attractive, too.”

tom nodded, seeming a lot more confident than before. “i’ll try to remember that then. hey, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” he asked in a flirty, over-the-top voice. you burst out laughing, and before long, he did too.

that sunday, during your very first study session in your floor’s lounge with tom, you asked him about it. “so, have you tried any of your horrible pick-up lines on mystery girl yet?”

he looked up from his notes and grinned. it was something he did a lot, and yet each smile never failed to make your chest tighten or your stomach do flips. “i did, actually.”

“ooh, how did it go?” despite your cheery tone, your heart had immediately dropped when he said that. a good friend would be happy for him, you reminded yourself, and you should be happy that you at least get to be his friend.

he crossed his arms nervously. “well, she thought it was funny, but i don’t know if she could tell that i wasn’t just having a laugh.”

“aw. well, on the bright side, being funny will probably make her like you even more.”

“more? i don’t even know if she likes me at all.”

you rolled your eyes. “come on, tom, you’re kind of the full package. you’re athletic, sweet, funny, and pretty cute.” tom looked at you a little surprised but incredibly pleased regardless, and you hurried to move the conversation on before he could question you about what you’d just said. “anyway, tell me more about your mystery girl.”

he put his chin on his hand thoughtfully. “well, she’s just…really great, i guess. she’s really nice and funny, and we get on really well, but…i just can’t tell if she’s into me, d’you know what i mean?” he searched your face, then, almost like he was trying to see what your reaction was. after a brief moment, he shook his head a little and turned back to his notes. “what about you? anyone you fancy at all?”

you chewed your lip nervously. you knew if you started rambling, it was possible that you would accidentally give away that you had a little—okay, massive—crush on him. play it safe. “nah, not really. i mean, it’s only been a week, so i haven’t had the time to get to know anyone yet.”

“i’d say we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well,” tom replied carefully. your eyes narrowed, trying to gauge what he meant by that, but he kept his gaze down toward his notes. “hey, could you help me with this problem?”

“sure, what number is it?”

“37.”

“oh, i just finished that one. here, you can look at how i did it.” you grabbed your notebook with the intention of sliding it over to him, but he instead slid behind you to look over your shoulder. he was extremely close, to the point that you could feel his warm breath on your ear. you stilled, then, painfully aware of your proximity to each other and the fact that your heart was beating erratically.

“i’m an idiot. the three is negative, not positive.” tom moved back to his previous position, and like that, the moment was over.

the next day, you and tom were sitting in your calculus lecture hall, glancing over your respective notes before the quiz. suddenly, a girl—the same girl that had given tom his pencil the first day and stared at him every lecture since—tapped on his shoulder. “hi, sorry, i was gone on friday, do you think i could borrow your notes?”

tom smiled and nodded. “of course.” he leafed through his papers before finding friday’s notes and handed them over. a ripple of jealousy went through you. he’s just sharing notes, not marrying the girl. get over yourself, you thought, but it hardly made you feel any better.

soon the professor was striding in and passing out the quizzes. the girl from earlier quickly returned his notes then, and tom stuffed them in his binder. the bottom corner was sticking out, though, which otherwise wouldn’t have caught your eye—except for the fact that the girl had written her number in bright purple ink and signed her name (emma, apparently) with a smiley face.

you took the quiz with your teeth clenched, and for the rest of the class you couldn’t think of anything else but how tom might react. would he be excited? maybe this was the mystery girl he had been talking about. even if it wasn’t, you couldn’t deny that she was pretty and seemed nice, so maybe he’d be excited regardless.

to your surprise, tom didn’t react much at all. “oh,” was all he said before showing you.

“are you going to text her?” you tried to say as nonchalantly as possible.

he looked at you with a curious glint in his eyes. “should i?”

“is she your mystery girl?”

“nope.”

your body finally relaxed at that. “then i don’t know, it’s up to you. you could, to make your mystery girl jealous, but that wouldn’t really be fair to this girl.”

tom looked at it for a little while longer, but before long, he ended up stuffing it in his backpack. “i probably won’t. i don’t want to lead her on or anything. but…you make a good point.”

you smiled. “i always do.”

your suggestion ended up being a horrible move for you. the next study session you had together, tom dropped the bomb. “so i texted that girl.”

“what girl?” you asked distractedly, in the middle of working through a math problem.

“the girl from calc who gave me her number.”

your pencil immediately stilled at that. “i thought you didn’t want to lead her on.”

“well...let’s just say i’m keeping my options open. emma’s really nice, actually. and i don’t think mystery girl is into me, unfortunately.”

you turned fully toward him, your calculus homework forgotten. “what makes you say that?”

tom shrugged like it didn’t really bother him, but you could tell that it did. “she said there’s no one she fancies yet, and that obviously means she doesn’t fancy me. who knows, though, maybe there’s still hope, but i might as well see what emma’s like.” there were several emotions racing through you at that. you were relieved that mystery girl hadn’t worked out, you were frustrated that he had already moved on to a different girl (other than you, that is), but most of all, you were angry with yourself that you couldn’t just be happy for him.

so you forced a smile and turned back to your work. “well, maybe it’s a good thing, then. maybe mystery girl really doesn’t like you, or you and mystery girl weren’t meant to be. maybe emma will be really good for you.”

“do you really think that?” tom quietly asked. you looked at him again and were surprised to see his utterly dejected expression. “i just…really like her.”

“you don’t have to give up hope, then,” you reassured him quickly. “mystery girl could just be nervous, or she didn’t want to give away that she liked you. i mean, it is a little too straightforward to ask if she likes anyone. who knows, maybe she’ll get jealous and realize she liked you all along. or maybe she doesn’t even know you like her! maybe she just thinks you’re being nice.” you’re rambling at this point, because despite the fact that tom was telling you all about the people he liked that weren’t you, you would do anything to make him smile—because he did the same for you.

tom nodded. “how do i make sure she knows, then?”

“well, just be into her, i guess. ask her about herself—not just, like, how her day is going, but about her life and stuff.”

“okay,” he hummed, already looking a bit happier. “hey, you know, i never got to ask you this, but what’s your biggest fear?”

“huh?” you were a little taken aback by the suddenly personal question.

“the first day of classes, you asked me mine, and i never asked you yours. you don’t have to answer if you don’t want, though.”

you closed your textbook, resigned to the fact that you probably wouldn’t get anymore work done that night. “gosh, probably…realizing at the end of my life that i never mattered. like, i never did anything important, or i never truly mattered to someone else.”

both of you were quiet at that, before tom said, “oh. mine seems a little stupid now.”

you cracked a wry smile. “fears are never stupid.”

“if it makes you feel any better, you matter to me. i mean, i know we’ve only been friends for a couple weeks, but you’ve made me feel the most welcome here. you’re like, my best friend after harrison. and i’ll always be here for you, you know that, right?” you met his gaze, and your breath caught in your throat. tom was looking at you earnestly, as if in that moment, you were about the only thing that mattered.

tom had an uncanny ability to make anyone feel important, and that had to be your favorite part of him, you realized in that moment. he was so kind and caring that he genuinely wanted every person he interacted with to feel wanted. he would truly be the death of you, if you weren’t careful enough. (and you weren’t being careful enough, you also realized in that moment, because it had only been two weeks and you already knew that tom could ask you to do anything and you’d say yes.)

“thank you, tom.” you finally replied. there was a sort of tension in the air now—you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it, but it was almost like the entire world was holding its breath.

he stood up and held his arms open. “come on.”

you smiled sheepishly and stood to accept the hug. it immediately felt like the safest thing you had ever experienced. tom rubbed slow circles into your back, and you let yourself bury your face into the crook of his neck. when you both finally stood apart, his hands came back to rest on your arms. you were clutching his shirt, entirely reluctant to go, and all pretense of hiding your attraction to him was out the window.

tom looked at you with eyebrows furrowed, the same way he looked at a calculus problem he couldn’t figure out how to solve. there was a glint of determination in his eyes, too, like he’d do whatever it took to solve the problem he was looking at. at some point, tom’s lips parted slightly, and you couldn’t help but to glance down before quickly looking back up, hoping he hadn’t noticed. when you did meet his eyes again, you immediately knew he had. but whatever he would’ve done about it was interrupted by his phone buzzing.

the spell that had fallen over the two of you was broken, and you jumped apart like you had both been caught doing something wrong. you hurriedly began to put your stuff away.

“sorry, just emma asking if she could sit with us during lecture. is that cool?”

“yeah,” you answered, a little harsher than you intended, “totally cool.”

it was not, in fact, totally cool. during your shared lectures from then on, tom barely paid you any mind, only turning to you to ask for clarification on whatever your professor was talking about. sure, you still walked together in the morning, and during that time it was like nothing had changed. but during and after class, his attention was solely on emma. he was hardly around outside of class, as well, and sometimes missed your study sessions during the week (but never your sunday sessions—you held onto those desperately, because they were the only times you could pretend tom only wanted to be with you). it hurt, deeply, not just because you had feelings for him, but because of all the things he said that night no longer felt true.

however, you couldn’t deny that despite his lessened presence, you were still getting to know him more and more throughout the weeks that went on. you found out all about his childhood full of dancing and gymnastics—which explained his athletic physique—and about his love for acting. (“it’s the best feeling in the world, being on a stage or on set,” tom had said almost breathlessly, his eyes full of light, and you wanted to take a picture in that moment so you would never forget how truly happy he had looked.) in exchange, you told him about your life and your interests, and he paid each story such careful attention that if you tried hard enough, you could forget that you were now his second-best. tom would always be there to listen to your misfortunes, too, and always offered comfort at the end of your more negative stories—although nothing had happened like the night you told him your biggest fear. it all almost, almost made up for the time he was now gone.

in tom’s absence, though, you also got to know his roommates a lot better. you hadn’t found out until recently that he had a third roommate, jacob, who was incredibly witty but also very kind. you, zendaya, harrison, and jacob would get dinner together frequently, and before long, they all knew how hopelessly into tom you were.

“i mean, it just sucks,” you said one night at dinner. zendaya playfully rolled her eyes; she heard about your troubles all day, every day. “one night he’s telling me that i’m super important to him or whatever, and then the following week he barely talks to me except to ask for help in math. who does that?”

harrison chewed on his french fry thoughtfully before swallowing and answering. “he’s always been a bit like that. tom means well, but he’s just a bit clueless, i think.”

jacob nodded in agreement. “his heart is in the right place. tom’s a really good guy, but he can be an idiot sometimes.” he looked like there was more he wanted to say about the subject, but instead he took a bite of his food.

zendaya, meanwhile, merely shrugged. “i’ll kick his ass for you, if it makes you feel any better.” the whole table laughed, and soon the conversation moved on to the topic of all the upcoming exams you all had.

it was already almost the middle of the semester—you couldn’t believe how fast time flied in college—and midterms were rolling around for all of you. you and tom were having your standard sunday study session, but this time it was a lot quieter as you both pored over all the material that would be on your first exam for the class.

“would it be alright if emma joined us? she’s kind of freaking about the exam,” tom asked about an hour into studying.

you turned the page of your textbook, trying to look unbothered. “sure.”

“awesome, she’ll be here in a half hour.”

you simply nodded in response before sitting back and rubbing your eyes. “hey, do you want to order a pizza? i’m getting kind of hungry and—”

“i asked her to be my girlfriend,” tom blurted. you stopped talking, startled into silence at his sudden omission. “sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, just…thought you ought to know.”

“oh.” you finally managed to say in response.

“oh? what does that mean?”

“nothing, i’m just surprised, i guess. did she say yes?”

“yeah.”

of course she did, why wouldn’t she? “i’m…really happy for you, tom,” you replied carefully.

“you are?”

“of course, you’re one of my best friends. why wouldn’t i be happy for you?”

tom didn’t have anything to say to that, instead turning back to his textbook. an awkward silence fell over the room until emma finally came through the door.

“thank you so much for letting me come study, i’m so nervous for this exam,” she said as she took her things out of her bag. tom gave her a quick kiss on the cheek (which, to you, felt like he was ripping your heart out—wow, get it together, way too melodramatic there, you thought to yourself, it’s been a month and a half, it’s not like you’re in love with him) and, strangely, immediately stole a glance at you, almost as if he wanted to see your reaction. you had quickly looked back at your book, though, so he missed the pained expression in your eyes. “oh! before i forget,” emma continued, “there’s a party one of my friends is throwing this weekend to celebrate being halfway through the semester, you guys should come!”

“i’d love to,” tom responded. he turned to you. “what about you, ____?”

you were about to say no before you stopped yourself. you know what? let’s do this. “absolutely, it’ll be fun,” you answered with a blinding smile. “you know, i’m really tired, and i doubt i’ll remember anything else i study. i can leave my notes for you two to look at, though.”

“that would be so nice, thank you!” emma looked incredibly grateful, while tom looked seriously confused. he was staring at you like the wind had been knocked out of his lungs. you paid him no mind, though, and went back to your room, your shoulders square with determination.

“i need your help,” you said once you got back to your dorm.

zendaya leaned back in her desk chair and turned to look at you. “with what?”

“i’m going to a party this weekend and i need to look hot.”

“this isn’t about tom, is it?” she immediately asked. you smiled guiltily, but all she did was shake her head and stand up. “well, i’m going home this weekend, but i can pick an something out for you now.”

you both began to sort through your clothes. after an hour or so, she had finally assembled an outfit, and you stood in front of your mirror full of gratitude. “damn. thank you, z, this really means a lot.”

“no problem. just…be safe, okay?”

“i will, i promise.” you were 0 for 1 with your promises to zendaya, but you figured this one would be a little bit easier to keep.

the rest of the week was simultaneously a blur and the longest week of your life. your calc exam came and went—

(“____!” tom had yelled from across the hall. you both came out of your rooms at the same time, and he swept you into a bone-crushing hug, lifting you up and spinning you around. you assumed he had gotten his exam score back—your professor promised that scores would be in by the end of the week, assuring everyone that the ta’s would be hard at work to meet that deadline. “i got a b! i did it!”

“i’m so proud of you, tom,” you responded softly, letting yourself be carried around. you truly were proud of him. despite everything, you couldn’t help but be happy for him and proud of him, because he was tom, your boy-across-the-hall, one of the few people that made you feel like you mattered, even when he inevitably left you behind. you’d be damned if you didn’t try to make him feel the same.)

—and before long it was finally the end of the week. you found that you were actually excited for the party, not just because of tom, but because it felt like you were finally going to have the chance to let go and enjoy the fact that you were now a college student, even if it was already halfway through your first semester.

you were just finishing up your makeup for the party when tom knocked on the door. “____? you ready?”

“just a sec!” you called back, giving yourself a once-over in the mirror before opening the door. “sorry, just finishing my makeup.” he was looking down at his phone and tapping out a response to someone—probably emma, if you had to guess.

“no worries, i—” tom finally looked up from his phone. “oh, wow. you, uh, your outfit is really nice.”

you smiled. “thank you, tom. where’s emma?”

he glanced back down at his phone. “she’s waiting in the lobby.” you both headed down, then, and you almost felt like you were glowing from tom’s flustered response.

when you got done to the lobby, emma greeted you both with an enthusiastic grin. “____, you look amazing!” tom walked over to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek as he wound his arm around emma’s waist. “hi, tommy,” she giggled. your stomach lurched, but you shook your head a little and maintained your confidence.

you were quiet on the walk over to emma’s friend’s place, only speaking when directly asked something; you were trying to save your energy for the night ahead. when you finally reached the party, a bundle of nerves and excitement had built inside your stomach. “i’ll catch you later,” you quickly said to the both of them before diving into the crowd to find a drink.

the living room of the house had been turned into a makeshift dancefloor—music played loudly and the center of the room was packed with bodies. most of them were girls dancing with their friends, laughing and taking pictures together, but some pairs of people were dancing a little more sensually (if it could be called that; some were so drunk that they were just sort of moving side to side wildly). it took you a few minutes of navigating through the mass of sweaty, drunk college students, but you finally managed to find the drink table, which was being watched over by a bored-looking—but definitely attractive—boy.

there was an array of bottles laid out, plus a bin full of pink, fruity liquid and stacks of solo cups of regular and shot-glass sizes. you stood back and examined all of them, unsure of where to start. shots might be good to get you buzzed quickly, but maybe it would be better to mix a drink and sip on it.

“having trouble deciding?” the boy watching the drinks asked.

your head snapped up and you smiled sheepishly. “um, yeah, just indecisive. don’t know if i should do a shot first or start with a mixed drink instead.”

he nodded. “well, stay away from the jungle juice,” he gestured to the bin of pink liquid, “i watched them mix it earlier and there’s a whole bottle of vodka in there and then some.”

“oh.” you moved a little closer to hear him better—the music had somehow managed to get louder.

“yeah, in general, avoid drinks that you haven’t mixed yourself, especially at parties like this. you never know what’s in them. obviously, i know what’s in this one, but just for the future.”

you were still straining to hear him until you finally resolved to moving to his side of the table. he raised an eyebrow at that, to which you defensively replied, “i couldn’t hear you! the music is so loud.”

he laughed. “i’m just messing with you. anyway, normally shots are more fun with other people—”

“then i’ll just have a mixed drink then. thanks for the help!”

you moved to make a drink, but he stopped you with his hand. “woah, you didn’t let me finish. who said you’re alone?”

“isn’t it a little irresponsible to take a shot of the drinks you’re supposed to be watching over?” you quipped.

he gave you an overexaggerated smolder. “i like to live life on the edge.” you laughed at that, and he looked a little pleased with himself. “think of it this way: i’m quality checking.”

“oh, well when you put it that way, you’re just doing your job. i can’t fault you for that. in fact, i’d be preventing you from doing your job if i said no.” you cheekily responded. you were surprised at how easy it was to banter with this boy you had just met only five minutes ago. your mind flashed to tom, briefly, before you pushed him out of your mind. he has a girlfriend now. you deserved to enjoy yourself.

“see? somebody gets it!” he grabbed two of the disposable shot glasses and then motioned to the various bottles. “pick your poison.”

your gaze went down the row of drinks before landing on a bottle of blue liquid. “that one,” you pointed.

he chuckled and grabbed it, pouring out the shots. “ah, uv blue. the classic college girl drink. by the way, what’s your name? it’s vital shot-taking information.”

“____, yours?”

“henry. it’s nice to meet you. you ready?”

you nodded and went to immediately knock the drink back. “woah!” henry stopped you before you could. “there’s a little more finesse to it than that.” he grabbed his shot. “okay, so you’ll start with it at the table. then, you’ll bring it up to clink it with mine, then you’ll bring it down to the table again, and finally you’ll bring it up and take it. down, up, down, up. got it?”

“i think so.”

“we’ll do it slow. okay, down,” you both held your drinks at the table, “up,” the plastic glasses clinked together, “down again,” you brought it back down to the table, trying not to spill, “and up again.” you finally brought the drink to your lips and quickly swallowed it.

you shuddered only slightly, surprised at how okay it had ended up tasting. “hey, that wasn’t that bad!”

“yeah, you say that now, but give it until the end of the year. you won’t be able to stand it by then.” henry was throwing away your cups and putting the bottle back while you scanned the crowd. you found tom after only a few moments. he was standing with emma, looking a little bored as she talked animatedly with a few other girls. “is that your boyfriend?” henry asked, making you jump a little.

“no, he’s just…he lives across the hall from me. i’ve liked him a lot since the beginning of the year, but he has a girlfriend now, so…” you finally turned back to look at him. “sorry, you probably didn’t want to know that.”

henry shrugged. “nah, it’s fine. i get it, i’ve been through something like that before. it sucks, but you just have to move on, otherwise you’ll always be stuck on that same person.” he glanced over to where tom was standing before looking back at you. “don’t look, but he’s watching us right now. i think he might be coming over.”

it took all of your willpower not to glance over again, but you stayed facing henry. “what do i do?”

he searched your face. “well, what are you comfortable with?”

you looked at him in confusion before it finally dawned on you. “oh. um…” you were already feeling a bit buzzed from the shot, and you almost wanted to ask him to kiss you—almost. you weren’t quite confident enough for that. (and maybe, just maybe, you didn’t quite want to kiss someone other than tom, but you’d never admit it, even to yourself.) “i don’t know, nothing too serious.”

after a few seconds of thought, henry smiled and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before resting his hand on your shoulder. “now laugh,” he instructed, and you did as you were told, putting all your effort into making it seem genuine. “okay, now look at him while still smiling.”

you did, and your heart dropped despite the smile on your face. tom’s eyebrows were furrowed, and even though he was across the room, you could see the hurt in his eyes, which ultimately accused you. he’s probably mad that you abandoned him to take a shot and flirt with a random stranger, you decided as you looked back to henry. “thank you,” you finally said.

“no problem. wanna do another shot?” you eagerly accepted his offer. this time, you went through the motions a lot quicker and didn’t even shudder after you had swallowed. “see? you’re almost a professional now.”

you were definitely feeling the alcohol now. the music seemed to be calling your name, and you moved along with it. “i think i’m gonna go dance,” you told henry. “feel free to come with.”

he gestured to the table. “sorry, can’t abandon my duty. i think someone’s supposed to come relieve me soon, though, so maybe i’ll come find you.”

“bring me a drink when you do?”

“i’ll think about it. now, go, enjoy yourself. don’t let him ruin your night.”

you walked away before you could even process what he had said. before long, you were in the middle of the crowd, dancing and swaying to the music. it felt a little awkward, being alone, but you were tipsy enough that it didn’t matter much to you. every once in a while, you’d feel a hand on your back or your hips, but if you moved away they would thankfully back off. even then, your mind briefly floated to tom, wondering what he was doing and if you should maybe go find him (just to check in, of course), but then you pictured him and emma dancing and decided you didn’t really need to see him.

about five or six songs had passed when someone tapped on your shoulder. you turned around, still swaying to the beat, and you saw henry holding two cups. “hey! you did come find me!” you yelled over the music. he handed you a drink. “oh, thank you, i was actually just about to go grab one. come dance with me!” you took a big drink before holding your cup up with one hand and resuming your dancing.

“yeah, i’m not that great at dancing. i think i’ll just watch.” you raised your eyebrows at that. “okay, yup, that sounded creepy, and totally not what i meant. you are a really great dancer though.”

your cheeks grew hot (but it could’ve been the alcohol, too), and you smiled. “thank you, henry.” you took another drink from your cup until it was empty.

“you might wanna slow down.”

“why? i’m having so much fun!”

“how fucked up are you planning on getting tonight?”

you were about to shrug and tell him you were probably done for the night when you saw tom and emma sitting on one of the couches. she was practically on top of him, laughing at something he must’ve said, and then they were kissing and it was all a bit too much for you.

turning back to henry, you narrowed your eyes and replied, “i’ll stop before i can get alcohol poisoning.”

his eyes widened. “i definitely can’t condone that, but…i suppose i’ll have to make sure you don’t die in the process. come on.”

two shots, a mixed drink, and a few songs later, you could barely stand without starting to fall one way or the other. “how’re you not even drunk yet?” you slurred at henry.

“this isn’t exactly my first rodeo.”

“so you’re an alcoholic then?”

“no!” he looked a little offended at your suggestion. “i’m just not a lightweight. i don’t do this regularly, i just know how to pace myself.”

“wait, what year are you?” you peered up at him. you really hadn’t noticed before just how tall he was. or how sharp his jawline was…

he met your gaze. “sophomore.”

“oh, that explains a lot. i’m a—”

“freshman. yeah, i figured.”

was it really that obvious? “well, i think one more shot should do it,” you moved toward the drinks and almost fell over.

henry gently grabbed you to keep you from falling to the ground. “nope, i think you’re done.”

you giggled. “thanks for saving me from the ground. my hero.”

“yeah, definitely done for the night. i can either walk you home or you can stay in my room.”

“woah, you live here? that’s so cool. i probably should’ve guessed that. i live in the dorms, but,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, “staying here probably wouldn’t hurt.”

“i’ll take her home,” an icy voice cut in. you turned your head to see tom, and you instantly wondered how long he had been standing there for. “she’s sure as hell not staying here.”

“okay, whatever. here, ____, give me your phone real quick?” you did as asked and he quickly typed something before handing it back to you. “that’s my number. text me when you get back, okay? i’d feel bad if you died along the way and i didn’t know.”

you giggled again as you walked over to tom. “i will.” tom grabbed your shoulder to steady you with a vice-like grip. “ow, tom, you’re hurting me.”

henry smiled and shook his head. “in more ways then one, huh?” tom looked confused as he loosened his grip. ��i’ll see you around, ____.” with that, henry turned around and walked away.

tom steered you toward the door before stopping. “i better tell emma we’re leaving.” he walked you over to wear she was sitting. “hey, em, i gotta take her back, she’s shit-faced.”

“i’m not—” you began to say until you felt like you might throw up. you quickly said, “okay, i might be,” before clamping your mouth shut.

emma looked at you with genuine concern. “oh, well make sure you drink lots of water, ___. you looked really good tonight, by the way,” she smiled before turning to tom, “text me when you get back, okay?” that was the worst thing about emma, you realized: she was really just a nice person. no matter how much you wanted to hate her and looked for reasons to do so, you weren’t justified in it because she was so kind and considerate.

“i will,” was all tom said before he walked you to the door. the walk at back to the dorms was at first quiet. tom held on to your shoulders as you stumbled along the sidewalk, and the only sounds were your footsteps and the occasional passing car.

finally, he broke the silence. “who was that guy you were with?” tom sounded much angrier than you expected.

“his name’s henry. he’s a sophomore, and he’s super nice! he was teaching me how to do shots and i think he lives in the house, he offered to let me stay in his—”

“so he got you drunk and then asked you to sleep in his room?” tom stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched and nostrils flared.

you frowned. “it wasn’t like that, tom, it really wasn’t. he was just being nice since i didn’t really know what i was doing.”

“it sounds to me like he was taking advantage of you. i mean, come on, an older guy teaching you how to drink alcohol and then offering his bed? you really are just oblivious, aren’t you,” he snapped.

the silence returned until you felt yourself tearing up. you tried to keep any tears from falling, but you were ultimately unsuccessful as you began to cry. “i’m sorry,” you hiccupped between sobs. “i don’t mean to be.”

“hey, hey,” he said softly, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. “please don’t cry.” he gently wiped the tears from your cheeks. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. you’re drunk, and i don’t really know the guy.”

you nodded, sniffling, before wiping your eyes with your palms. “it’s okay. let’s just go back, i really need to throw up.”

tom laughed and moved his hands back to your shoulders. “let’s get going then.”

by the time you managed to get back to your room, you could barely hold back the urge to vomit, so the minute tom closed the door, you hunched over your trash can and emptied the contents of your stomach.

he came over after shutting the door and gently held your hair out of the way with one hand and rubbed comforting circles on your back with the other. when you were finished, you sat back and wiped the tears that had formed in the corners of your eyes. “sorry,” you croaked, “that was a little gross.”

“it’s fine.” tom smiled softly. “do you need some water?” you nodded, and he stood up and grabbed a water bottle from your fridge.

you gulped it down quickly once he gave it to you. “did you have fun, at least?”

tom shrugged as he sat down next to you. your head was still spinning a bit, and the feeling of his arm pressing into yours didn’t help much. “it was alright,” he admitted. “emma was just mainly talking to her friends, and you vanished once we got to the party. i didn’t really know anyone, so i just sort of…sat there.”

“sorry,” you replied guiltily. “i just thought you’d want some time to be with emma.”

he looked over at you. your room was still dark, and the only light in the room was the light from the hall that spilled through the crack under the door and the salt lamp zendaya had on her desk. the soft glow from the lamp illuminated the outline of his face as he spoke. “doesn’t mean i don’t want to be with you,” he murmured. “you’re still one of my best friends. no one could ever change that.” he gave you a hug, then, which was a little awkward as you were sitting side-by-side, but you didn’t mind. tom was a little sweaty, but underneath that you could smell his cologne and traces of his laundry detergent. it reminded you of home.

“i have to tell you something,” you whispered into the crook of his neck. you sat back to look him in the eyes. “i…look, i know i’m still pretty drunk right now, but please believe me when i say this because it’s true. i—i really like you, tom. like, like like you, if that makes any sense. and i know you’re in a relationship, and i’m so, so happy for you, but i just…” you trailed off before starting again. “i needed to tell you, i guess.”

a pained look flashed in tom’s eyes before he gave you a sad smile. “it’s just not the right time, is it?” what did that even mean? probably just trying to make you feel better, you thought to yourself, because this is super awkward.

“i guess not.”

the silence between you was almost palpable. “i better get going, then,” tom finally said. he went to get up, but stopped to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “goodnight, _____.”

you stood up with him, his arm gripping your elbow to steady you. “goodnight, tom.”

with that, he turned and left your room, leaving you to get ready for bed. you also quickly texted henry to let him know you had gotten back alright. he simply replied with a thumbs-up. by the time you laid down, you were crying once more and felt like you might throw up again—not because you were drunk, but because you might have just ruined one of the closest friendships you’d ever had.

what’s up with tom? is henry really a creep? what do you think? feedback is always greatly appreciated! replies, tags, asks, messenger pigeons--they’re all welcome!

#tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland scenarios #tom holland imagines #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland/reader #tom holland/you #tom holland smut #(at one point lol)#harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x you #harrison osterfield/reader #harrison osterfield/you #(again later in the series lol)#zendaya #zendaya coleman

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