Chapter Forty Six

There was still no Tomás come Wednesday morning, and though he answered their concerned texts with cheerful reassurance, there was a definite lack of enthusiasm in their mood between classes. Eventually though, as was inevitable, the school day ended and the next upcoming concert meant a scheduled practice that would eat into their evening, so at least there was that to keep them busy.

When it became clear there was a scheduled break between last class and their beginning, Teresa took the opportunity to haul Newt from the hall gleefully, waving to Aris as the shorter boy was roped into helping set up.

"Caramel!" he yelped at their retreating backs, and Teresa laughed in answer.

She didn't say anything at all until they were free of the building, their pace brisk but comfortable. While most of the others pouring from the doors were headed for the takeaway places to grab dinner, Teresa and Newt were off to The Glade. (Aris' turn to choose, despite being unable to escape with them in time.)

"So." was how she announced her interest, and Newt groaned in return.

"Do we buggin' have to?"

Her deadpan glance was answer enough and Newt looked away in dismay. She waited him out, and he knew there was no point in postponing the inevitable, for she'd get it from him one way or another.

"It was an accident." he hedged, knowing what she was most curious about, "It's not… we're not. I wasn't thinking."

Teresa hummed, eyeing the couple who passed them on the street before she said anything further. When she did speak, Newt almost wished she hadn't.

"Doing it by accident is even more reason to go for it, Newt." her words were soft but her tone was firm and sure, as though arguing would be pointless, "If you mean to do it, it's because you choose to, right? But the things we do when we're distracted are things we just… want to do. Things we're comfortable with, things that feel…" she trailed away, her blue eyes looking at him apologetically as though she knew just what he was going to feel when she finished, "right."

And the truth was, as always, exactly that.

"You sound like my sister." he said lamely, looking away and biting the inside of his cheek to save from admitting he wanted her to be right.

"Smart woman." Teresa sniffed haughtily, her laughter bright and contagious as they finally reached the doors of the coffee shop.

"Shut up." he bitched, and shoved her half-heartedly.

They fell into playful bickering while they waited, and it was only by chance that Newt caught sight of the name tag worn by the unfamiliar girl behind the counter when she took their order.

Rachel

As he tugged Teresa to side to wait, he shot her a wide-eyed look, and it only took seconds for her puzzled glance at the girl to turn to him, melting into surprise, and then something different, gentler and pleasant.

The girl, whom Newt had never seen in the place before, nor ever at all to his memory, was quite pretty. Her hair was a dull golden brown and fell to just below her shoulders in straight sheets, held sweetly behind her ears by a delicate green hairband. She had large blue eyes and a naturally friendly smile, and even just from looking, Newt could see her being lovely.

"She's cute." Teresa hummed under her breath, and Newt felt his face flush as he nudged her.

"Teresa!" he hissed, but she just sniggered.

"Oh shut up, don't you think?"

Newt rolled his eyes, definitely feeling his face heat now.

"Yeah, she's pretty." he reluctantly muttered in defeat when she continued to stare pointedly at him.

"I think she'd suit him." she hummed a moment later, and though Newt was more than a little uncomfortable to be having this conversation - in public, of all places, the place was busy - he could see what she meant.

They collected their coffees and pastries, and if they were overly friendly when they thanked her she didn't seem to mind. The walk back only built the tense sort of excitement, and by the time they were back in the hall Newt could understand the look on his friend's face. He felt it too, just like he had watching Minho and Teresa meet.

Maybe she would be the Rachel Aris was waiting for. And jeeez, he sounded like a buggin' girl.

"Thanks guys." the oboist grinned, accepting the latte like one might accept a precious object, making Newt laugh, "Caramel?" he looked hopeful.

"Mhm." Teresa answered in a rush, her eyes bright blue and her grin plotting, "So there's a new girl serving at The Glade and she's really pretty."

When Aris merely paused in sipping from the cup to shoot a bemused glance between them, Newt found himself unable to contain it. Teresa elbowed him a little sulkily for spilling it so soon, but he couldn't help it, caught by the strange excitement so suddenly as he was.

"You're going to want to meet her." Newt informed him, each word spoken with clear and defined purpose as he passed the oboist his cupcake, "Her buggin' name is Rachel."

Aris blinked, his face suddenly pale behind his glasses as his eyes turned wide in surprise. The image made Newt chuckle.

"Whose name is Rachel?"

The blonde jumped and shot the figure beside him a startled glance. Thomas, of course, had popped up right beside him like a shadow. Newt was lucky he hadn't actually spilled his coffee, he'd jerked his hand so fast.

"The uh, the new girl." he answered, covering the wobble in his voice with a cough, "At The Glade. She might be uh- We thought Aris might uh-"

Shoot, why was he suddenly so bloody nervous?

"We thought Aris would think she was cute." Teresa answered smoothly with a roll of her eyes, "She must have just started there."

"Oh." Thomas answered, looking at Newt with a vaguely puzzled expression creasing his face.

Newt felt like his whole break had just stopped functioning, and he blinked back at him stupidly. His mouth felt dry all of a sudden, and he wasn't sure why he felt so panicked and caught off guard and all he could think was how Sonya thought Thomas was a good match for him and how all he wanted was to kiss that subtle little twist of confusion right off his face.

"And she's- She's Rachel? Like- like with a-"

"With an e-l." Teresa answered quietly, her eyes flickering from Newt to Thomas and back while the blonde simply stood there looking guilty.

"Shit." Aris breathed, his whole face lighting up with something gentle and hopeful, "What if it's her?"

"We'll drop by after practice." Teresa answered quietly when Newt couldn't, "We can check, if she's still there."

Thomas was looking very very suspicious, and it wasn't helping Newt calm himself at all. He felt exposed and caught out, and when he finally opened his mouth to say something, he saw the light in Thomas' eyes shift just a shade the other way. He looked to Teresa for help, but it was too late. Thomas was far too smart for his own good.

"You know." Thomas breathed, and Newt shut his eyes as he felt himself cringe.

"Thomas," Teresa started, her hand curling comfortingly around Newt's wrist, "it's-"

"Wait- So you guys… What, you know?"

Newt froze up, turning to his best friend in guilty discomfort. Thomas's eyes were bright with hurt. Newt swallowed hard, watching the brunette slowly start to shake his head, his eyes never leaving Newt's face. The guilt rose cold in Newt's gut.

Shit.

"Tommy…"

The other boy shook his head again, his mouth opening and closing twice before he could find words.

"You do." he whispered, making the blonde wince, "You know. You all know?"

Newt looked away, his teeth finding the inside of his cheek as he looked to Teresa helplessly. Her sapphire eyes were guilty when they met his gaze, and she looked down at her feet.

"But I…" Thomas paused and Newt couldn't help it.

It was like he was drawn to him, just like always. Thomas would be his ruin, and Newt knew it. But it didn't stop the pain that lanced though his body at the look on his best friend's face. His eyes were murky and confused, his expression even more so, squirming on his face as though it didn't know what to do. Newt looked into those golden eyes and knew he'd fucked up big time.

"Newt?" Thomas asked, voice quiet and pitching.

Newt couldn't find the breath to answer, staring at him helplessly as a shuttered look crawled into those eyes.

"I'm sorry." was what his mouth chose to say.

Thomas's mouth twisted, his eyes flashing away. Newt's chest hurt at the shine of water in them.

"I have to go to the toilet." he said eventually, brushing past Newt roughly.

It was that most of all that glued the taller boy where he was, because Thomas was never rough with him, not ever. Teresa's hand gripped his wrist tightly just in case, but Newt just watched his best friend leave, feeling like maybe he'd ruined something important.

The three of them left gravitated to the seats because time was not their friend, and as Aris pointed out distractedly, they'd need the sugar for the three hours of pretty constant playing that lay ahead. When Thomas finally returned he slipped into the fold of the other choir members, and despite how Newt could nearly tear his eyes from him, the brunette didn't look his way once.

It hurt more than it should have, and it made his food taste dull and awful in his mouth. If his friends were talking to him, he hadn't heard them.

Newt wasn't proud of himself for the relief he felt when their attention was called and they were directed to their proper places in the pit. It was hard to concentrate on what was happening with the image of Thomas was burned in his head; the bemused twist on his lips, the emotion that looked so much like betrayal in his eyes. Maybe it wasn't, he reasoned, maybe it only looked like betrayal because he-

Because what?

Because really, deep down inside, Newt wanted it to be?

The entire practice was torture. Newt couldn't focus, messing up easy notes and earning himself more than a few concerned glances that quickly turned irritable. He felt like he spent the entire three hours on the verge of tears, and by the time he was packing up his instrument when they were let go, Thomas had already disappeared.

That night, he tossed and turned miserably, feeling cold and alone in his own bed and knowing he shouldn't be more used to sleeping near someone than by himself. The knowledge didn't help, of course, and it felt like he'd barely drifted off when his alarm screeched at him that Thursday was upon him.

He continued to lie with his face hidden in the pillow, truly considering staying home.