Dickson strolled leisurely through the school pathway, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. The morning sun cast long shadows across the pavement, and the occasional gust of wind sent dry leaves tumbling across the ground. The usual sounds of students chattering, lockers slamming, and footsteps echoing off the hallways filled the air. It was just another school morning—until he heard his name being called from behind.
"Dickson!"
He stopped mid-step, his brows furrowing slightly before he turned around. As soon as his eyes landed on Liam, they widened in shock. His mouth fell open slightly, and without thinking, the words tumbled from his lips.
"What the hell were you doing overnight? You look like you just wrestled a bear in your sleep!"
Liam, standing a few feet away, visibly stiffened. He shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck as he let out a forced cough. "Uh..." His voice came out hoarse, and he cleared his throat awkwardly before quickly changing the subject. "How are you doing?" he asked, pretending as if Dickson hadn’t just called him out.
Dickson let out a short snort, shaking his head as he resumed walking, forcing Liam to keep up beside him. "Nice deflection, dumbass," he muttered. "I’m fine, but you..." He side-eyed Liam, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the slight limp in his step. "You look like you barely survived the night."
Liam huffed but didn’t respond to the remark. He figured if he ignored it, the topic would die out.
However, Dickson wasn’t finished. A knowing smirk tugged at his lips as he said, "You’re as ungrateful as ever, though."
Liam’s brows furrowed. He turned to Dickson with a puzzled expression. "What?"
Dickson clicked his tongue. "My dad carried your sorry ass for free last night, and you didn’t even say thank you."
At that, Liam blinked. He took a second to process the words before nodding slightly. "Right... Your dad did carry me last night," he admitted, though his voice sounded distant, as if his mind had wandered somewhere else. His lips parted as if to say more, but then his brows suddenly snapped together, and his entire demeanor shifted.
Something clicked.
His fists clenched as realization crashed over him. His jaw tightened, and then, without warning, he exploded.
"Wait—what the actual fuck?" he blurted out, his voice rising in disbelief. "Did your dad seriously say he carried me for free?"
Dickson blinked at Liam’s sudden outburst. "Uh... yeah?"
"Fuck me," Liam groaned, running both hands through his hair in frustration. "That bitch charged me extra!"
Dickson rolled his eyes at Liam’s dramatics before crossing his arms over his chest. "Watch your language," he scolded, though there was little authority behind his words.
Liam scoffed and shot back without missing a beat. "Fuck off, dickhead."
Dickson simply shrugged, unfazed by the insult. "Whatever," he said. "More importantly, what the hell were you even doing out so late?"
Liam tensed slightly at the question. His gaze flickered around their surroundings, scanning the passing students. He exhaled sharply before grabbing Dickson’s wrist and pulling him toward the nearest empty classroom.
"Hey—what the hell, dude?" Dickson frowned but didn’t resist, allowing himself to be dragged inside. As soon as they entered, Liam shut the door behind them, turning the lock for good measure.
Dickson’s frown deepened. "Okay, now you’re just acting weird," he muttered. "Why are we suddenly in an empty classroom? You’re not about to confess your love to me, are you? Because if this is the part where you come out as gay, I’ll have to beat your ass up."
Liam rolled his eyes so hard he almost saw the back of his skull. "Gay my ass," he shot back, shaking his head. "This is serious, you idiot."
Dickson smirked, crossing his arms again. "Alright, so what’s so serious that you had to drag me all the way in here?"
Liam hesitated for a second, then lowered his voice. "I went to Ann’s house last night."
Silence.
For a moment, Dickson just stared at him. Then, suddenly, he burst into laughter.
"Pfft—hahahaha! That’s a good one, Liam," he wheezed, clutching his stomach. "Man, you really had me going there for a second. Ann’s house? You?" He wiped a fake tear from his eye, still chuckling. "Come on, dude, you expect me to believe that?"
Liam, however, remained unfazed. He simply stared at Dickson, his face void of amusement, his expression completely serious.
Dickson’s laughter gradually died down. He took a step back, his smile faltering slightly. "Wait..." He eyed Liam suspiciously. "You’re not joking?"
Liam didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he tilted his head slightly and asked in an eerily calm voice, "Where did your dad say he dropped me off yesterday?"
Dickson frowned, thinking back. "Uh... he said he dropped you off at..." His voice trailed off as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing as if struggling to form words. Then, finally, the truth smacked him across the face, and he blurted out—
"Oh, shit."
Liam smirked. "Exactly."
Dickson blinked rapidly, trying to process everything at once. His brain was short-circuiting. The address his dad had mentioned... It was Ann’s house. He knew that place like the back of his hand. Hell, he’d seen her walking in and out of there countless times before.
And now, here was Liam, standing right in front of him, confirming the impossible.
"You... actually went to Ann’s house?" Dickson muttered, still in shock.
Liam nodded. "Yeah."
Dickson was speechless. He never thought he’d see the day. Liam and Ann weren’t even friends—or even on good terms most of the time. But now... this? What the hell was going on?
As the weight of the situation settled in, a slow grin stretched across Dickson’s face. His eyes glinted with mischief.
"Oh, this is juicy," he said, rubbing his hands together. "You better start talking, dude. I need details."
Liam sighed, knowing full well that Dickson wouldn’t let this go.
And just like that, the real interrogation began.
****
Support with Golden Tickets and Power Stones.