Summary: Dan has been thrown into a completely new environment as he joins a popular boarding school, Blackwood Academy, as a new student. After meeting Phil, a ringleader of the most infamous group of students in the school, Dan realises there’s a lot more to him than the man-made definition formed by other people’s opinions.

Chapter Twelve

Once he’d reached the hut, without hesitation he yanks open the door and stumbles inside, immediately met with the cold, January air filling the hut. He slams the door shut, taking a deep breath and looking up.

Dan’s sitting on one end of the sofa, not even bothering with the protection of his blazer from the ancient fabric. His hair is carefully brushed out and straightened, his expression hard, and his eyes glaring into Phil’s with some kind of intensity. Phil retaliates, locking the gaze and giving Dan the iciest stare he can manage. Dan gulps.

“What’s going on?” Dan says assertively as soon as Phil sit down, keeping a cold distance between them. Phil swallows nervously, finding that he giving an outright reply isn’t as easy as he’d been anticipating.

“What do you mean?” he finally blurts after a silence, his heart thudding.

“Phil, don’t fuck around with me. I meet you every night in this stupid hut, I let you copy my homework, and I spend thirty fucking quid on a Christmas present for you. For the past week you’ve been completely ignoring me, you don’t say so much as ‘hello’ to me anymore, and you acted as if being partnered with me was the equivalent to being tortured. Not that you’d know, but stuff like that hurts,” he snaps, his voice cold and distant.

“You know I can’t act like we’re friends around everyone else,” Phil protests defensively, avoiding the other points he’d made.

Dan rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t mean to say we have to play up to the ‘mortal enemies’ act.”

“Bu-“

“Why are you doing it, Phil? Why are you acting as if you can’t stand me? I thought we were friends,” he sighs, his voice softening. His dark eyes shine in the light of the setting sun, illuminating his skin with a golden glow. It’s only then Phil realises they’d forgotten to turn on the light, but he doesn’t reach for the switch.

Phil takes a deep breath. “Because-…” he desperately scours my brain for a valid-sounding reason he could give Dan without making him sound completely stupid again. He can’t exactly tell him the real reason, could he? That and the embarrassment he’s still having to cope with over the fact he’d opened up to him so suddenly at Christmas – fuck, he doesn’t even want to go there.

“I’m…”

Dan continues to stare, every glance from his soft brown eyes like a stab.

“Because you’re what?” he pushes.

“I’m… scared,” Phil automatically confesses after a couple of minutes of silence.

Great, his mind mutters. Nice going on the whole ‘don’t embarrass yourself any further’ thing.

“Scared-…?” Dan’s voice is barely a whisper, and he shakes his head in confusion.

Phil sighs heavily, knowing there’s only one way to get rid of this ‘hate’ he has for Dan. “Look, Dan- I just-… I think it would be better if you stayed away from me.”

Dan freezes, and although Phil can’t face his expression right now, he still looks up and into his eyes, which are a dark mixture of disappointment and confusion.

“What…? What did I do?” his voice suddenly raises.

“No, it’s not you. I’m just-… I’m scared of you getting hurt,” he knows he means that in more than one way, but Dan will only pick up on the obvious.

“Hurt?” the vulnerability in his voice rises back up, and Phil shakes his head.

“Just watch your back,” he grits my teeth, hearing Dan gulp. He’s beginning to regret saying anything at all. “That’s all I’m saying.”

It isn’t ‘all he’s saying’ at all, but he needs some kind of coverage.

“Is it the others…?” Dan detects, narrowing his eyes.

Phil’s eyes fall to his lap. “Yeah-…”

“Your friends are going to… hurt me?” he tries to make sense of what Phil’s saying, his brow furrowed. His voice is carefully casual, but his tone is scratched with nerves..

Phil suddenly snapped at the mere thought of Charlie, or anyone doing anything remotely harmful to Dan. The last memory of that still burns in the back of his mind. Even though Phil knows it isn’t the real reason he thinks it’d be better for them to stay apart, it’s enough to make him reach out and find Dan’s hand, which is surprisingly just as cold and clammy as his is. He tightens his grip.

“I won’t let them lay a single hand on you, okay?” Phil says, his gaze fierce. He gulps as the horrible vision of Dan slammed up against the lockers flashes back into his mind’s view, and how Dan’s eyes had flickered with terror as the group threatened him with violence. Phil’s still glad he’d managed to step in before things had turned ugly – as if that wasn’t ugly enough.

Dan’s still motionless, the only movement being the rising and falling of his chest as his breathing deepens, his lips slightly parted and his eyes studying Phil’s face carefully as Phil breathes in his warm, familiar scent.

“Okay…” Dan stutters in response, his eyes still bewildered – he doesn’t know what Phil’s trying to get at.

“Good…” Phil narrows his eyes, flicking his black fringe out of the way.

“Do you want to stay away from me, then? Is that it?” Dan says after a few seconds of silence.

“No, of course I don’t. I said it would be better if you stayed away from me. I never said I wanted you to.”

“They don’t have to know about this, Phil.”

“But what if they find out?” Phil worries, staring at the door. He has a terrifying vision of Charlie and the group casually walking into the hut to see him making conversation with the Dan they all know and hate.

“Why can’t we just say we’re working on the English thing?” Dan suggests, his eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Ah,” Phil nods slowly – it’s a good idea, although it doesn’t really shift the problem in his mind. “But what if that doesn’t-”

“Phil, what are they ever going to come in here for?” Dan sighs. He does have a good point, actually, Phil thinks. Not once had he seen anyone else in the school set foot in this place aside Charlie.

“Hm,” Phil still tries to identify the problem, and he thinks, hard, leaving them in a deep silence. He carries on thinking, although he can feel Dan staring at him through the corner of his eye.

“What are you thinking of?” Dan’s the first to break the silence and Phil’s train of thought, and it’s only then Phil realises they’re still holding hands. Neither of them let go.

Phil sighs in heavy frustration, his other hand clutching his forehead desperately.

“I don’t know what you’re doing to me,” Phil finally admits angrily, shaking his head and staring at him through the gaps in his messy fringe.

Dan opens his mouth in order to reply, but shuts it again. He stares back, not really sure what to say, with a frown of confusion on his face. Instead, his eyes trail down to Phil’s black bracelet, which he then realizes he’d been subconsciously clutching – his nervous reflex, again.

Dan doesn’t question what Phil’s confessions, much to his relief. Maybe it’s obvious how much it’s bothering him. Much against Phil’s inhibition, he can’t help but continue to wordlessly study the brown-haired boy beside him, his eyes travelling up to Dan’s forehead lined with his sleek, dark brown fringe. He’d love nothing more than to actually see through his head of hair, through his forehead and straight into his mind; to access his own cloud of thoughts Phil had been wanting to get inside for so long. Phil never knows for certain what Dans thinking, or feeling – he’s one of those people who are very good at hiding their emotions.

That makes two of them, then, although Phil always seems to come undone whenever it came to confessing something to Dan – he can never hide anything from him for too long.

“So… I see you’re still wearing it,” Dan finally breaks the silence, his eyes still fixed on the bracelet.

“Uh, yeah…” Phil tears his own eyes off of Dan and down to his wrist, letting go of their sweaty clasp in the process. He admires the bracelet from every angle, the golden light reflecting off the stones with little warm, onyx glitters. “I love it.”

“I’m glad you do,” he says softly.

“Sorry I didn’t get you anything,” Phil mumbles after a while.

Dan waves the apology away. “I wasn’t really expecting anything, anyway,” he adds.

Phil lets his eyes wander around the room, trying to think of anything else to change the subject.

“Charlie almost saw it,” is the best he can come up with.

“What?” Dan’s tone suddenly alters. “How?”

Phil rolls my eyes. “If you must know, we were kind of… well, fighting in our room this morning, and-… and my sleeve fell up a bit, and he asked me what it was.”

“And you said…?”

Phil smirks nervously. “Well-… I said it was nothing. I mean-… that’s a pretty stupid thing to say though, right? I mean, of course it’s something. He could see it was a bracelet. Anyone with eyes could see it was a-“

“Did he ask where it came from?” Dan interrupts Phil’s burble.

Phil shakes his head. “Luckily not”

Dan nibbles his lip. “Good,” he mumbles after a while. “Just-… I mean, I don’t care what you do with Charlie, but at least try not to let anyone else see it?”

“I didn’t intend for him to see it,” Phil mutters

“Well, perhaps try taking the bracelet off prior to fighting with Charlie?” he raises his eyebrows although he’s smirking.

“Whatever,” Phil rolls his eyes, smirking with him. They both gaze down at the bracelet, and Phil plays with the stones thoughtfully, feeling the stones cool beneath his shaky touch.

They glance up at the same time, and Phil gulps, his heart thudding. Dan’s eyes study his carefully, and he drags his teeth through his lower lip in a tentative nibble.

The ‘hate’ comes swirling back into the pit of Phil’s stomach.

“I-… I need a fag,” Phil breathes out heavily, trying to bash the weird emotion that had come back again. He hauls himself up from the sofa and heads towards the door, yanking the handle open and stumbling out onto the school paths. Soon after the door had slammed shut, much to Phil’s hope, it opens again, and Dan emerges.

“Phil, are you crazy?” he calls after him. “You can’t smoke here! The school would go absolutely-“

“I know-…” Phil replies softly, his eyes glittering. “That’s why I’m going to the forest,” he points to the dark cluster of trees beyond the green stretch of playing fields.

Dan stays silent until Phil glances up at him.

“Come with?” he suggests.

Dan’s eyes flicker indecisively between Phil and the school blocks. “What about the others? Won’t they wonder where we are?”

“Be real, Dan – your lot wouldn’t notice if I died, let alone disappear for a few hours,” Phil chuckles. “Can’t you say you were practising?”

“I guess I-…” Dan dithers helplessly, exchanging glances with me, back to the school, and ahead to the forest, making up his mind.

After a few moments of silent decision making, he finally turns to Phil. “Fuck it – I’ll come,” he grins, his eyes illuminated by the amber glow of the path light.

Phil grins back, and they begin walk as quietly as we could along the lengths of the playing fields, the wet mud under the grass squelching with every step they take, serving as a soggy reminder of last night’s rainstorm.

“You didn’t tell me this was going to be such a swamp,” Dan complains, staring down at the newly mud-covered converse on his feet.

“What’s a bit of mud going to do?” Phil glances down at his own battered footwear, which had seen many late night walks of messy underfoot. “Come on, it’ll be fine once we’re in the forest.”

Which involves climbing over the barbed wire fence – something Dan, again, seems pretty hesitant about dealing with

“Phil, I can’t do it,” he says in a panicked voice, desperately clutching onto the metal supporting his weight as he tries to follow Phil’s irritatingly vague climbing instructions.

“Okay, wait,” Phil signals for him to let go and to let him get up there first. Within seconds, he’d vaulted clean over the fence and landedd gracefully in the leafy atmosphere

“I can’t do that?! Who do you take me for – some parkour wizard?” he glares at Phil’s agility, making him smirk.

“That wasn’t meant to be a demonstration. I’m over this side to help you,” Phil holds onto one of his hands, feeling the squeeze as he grips back.

“Now, put your foot there…” he instructs Dan, watching as he positions himself on the wire fencing. “And lift your other foot up here…”

“Phil, I’m gonna fall,” Dan breathes out once he’d climbed up higher.

“No you won’t,” Phil lets go of his hand and holds a better grip around his waist. “I’ve got you.”

Phil can hear Dan’s breathing, close to his ear as he swings a leg over, clinging onto his shoulders tightly. Phil breathes in his stronger scent, so close to him.

“You okay?” he asks, watching as Dan struggles to pull his other leg over to the other side of the fence.

“Y-yep. Well, no, I’ve made myself stuc- oh, shit. Wait, wait….I think I’m ov-… fuck… wait, yeah…” after a string of strained curses, he manages to get his other leg over the fence.

“I underestimated your clumsiness,” Phil jokes.

“Shut up,” Dan chuckled, oh god, his chuckle. Phil hates him so much.

“Right, now let go,” Phil orders.

“Do you want me to die?” Dan fixes him with an alarmed stare.

“Let go,” Phil repeats in a firmer voice.

Dan gulps, the atmosphere silent apart from the swaying of the trees in the distance. He takes a deep breath and eventually lets go of the wire fence. Phil quickly wraps his other arm around Dan’s slim waist, supporting his weight as he settles for practically carrying him off. He thinks he might have surprised Dan with his strength judging by his continued silence as he puts him down beside him, easing his hands off of Dan’s waist.

“Wow,” Dan huffs breathlessly. “I thought you were going to drop me, there,” he half-grins, his dimple showing in the shadowy light.

“Why would I have told you to let go if I knew I was going to drop you?” Phil responds, narrowing his eyes.

Dan shrugs. “Just something I can imagine you doing.”

“To a year seven, maybe,” Phil giggles cruelly, feeling a rush of adrenaline shoot through him as he catches Dan staring. “Come on, let’s go,” Phil nods down the dark footpath.

Dan swallows nervously, evidently not used to being out in this darkness, especially not for this reason. “Okay,” he replies, his voice thin.

Phil whips out his cigarette box and lighter, pulling out a thin, papery cylinder filled with the flaky brown tobacco, and holding it to his lips. He begins busily flicking the small plastic tube until the spark ignites, the flame being the only source of light in their surroundings aside the moon.

As he lights up, Dan stares in disgust.

“What?” Phil mumbles, his speech slightly restricted due to the cigarette he’s holding between his lips. “Never seen someone smoke before?”

“Oh, too much,” Dan shudders. “My parents are heavy smokers.”

“Ah. You don’t take after them, I’m guessing?” Phil takes a long drag, exhaling the curly grey wisps of smoke out from between his lips. Dan shakes his head, frowning.

“Nope. I think that’s why I never smoked. I wanted to rebel against them.”

Phil bursts out laughing, nearly dropping his lighter.

“What?” he asks, slightly irritated.

“You,” Phil says between laughs. “The thought of you being a rebel, oh my god.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m sure you were partial to the rebellion against your mum, when you were ten.”

“Oh, of course,” Phil takes another drag, mockingly flexing his muscles. Dan frowns. “I’ve had my fair share of running off in the middle of Tesco when I was that age,” he exhales. “Started smoking when I was twelve, though.”

Dan’s eyes widen. “Twelve?”

Phil nods.

“Phil!” Dan’s jaw drops. “Why?”

Phil shrugs. “Everyone else was at it,”

“What, all your other twelve year old friends?” Dan raises an eyebrow.

“No,” Phil makes a face. “I hung around with the older kids.”

“Oh, a cool kid, were you?” Dan smirks.

“Mhm. I was a bad one too,” Phil flicks his ash.

“You still are,” Dan softly flicks Phil’s arm, glancing up at him. Phil glances down at him, and studies the shorter boy briefly. The moonlight peeps between the treetops surrounding the area above them, illuminating the smooth crevices of Dan’s face in silver curves. They gaze in silence for a few minutes until the crunching of the leaves underneath their shoes turn nearly inaudible. Being immersed in a seemingly infinite forest, it’s easy to believe they’re only two humans walking alive on the planet. No Cherry, or Emma. No Alex, Louise, or Zoe. Even no Charlie.

No one, but Dan and Phil.

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