I followed Van out the doors. "Thanks for doing this," I sent him a grateful, sheepish grin. 

I watched Van's face soften a tiny bit, before it hardened again a moment later, as if remembering to not allow himself to be swayed. Then he plastered a grin over his face and led me down to the garage.

"It's no biggy, I was getting sick of studying anyways," Van waved it off. "I wanted to talk to you anyways," he added as an afterthought. 

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?" I kept my tone light, unsuspecting.

"Yeah, you seem very," Van eyed me out of the corner of his eye. "Nice." 

I waited, allowing the atmosphere to become a bit awkward. 

Van, quickly feeling it, hurriedly continued as I expected him to. "You're friends with most of us, aren't you?" 

"Mm... I don't think I know everybody," I denied. What was he trying to get at? Who had he asked about me? 

"Fair, there's a lot of us. I've heard you're pretty chill," Van didn't specify from who. So he had been asking around, had he?

"Aw, thanks, you too! Oh, are those Axel's keys? Are we taking his car?" I gestured to the keys he was swinging on a finger. No need to make things too stiff already.

Van gave me a curious look that lasted too long to be normal. "Yeah, got a problem with it?" he paused. "I think there aren't any more dirty panties, at least not in the front seat, haha." 

Was he trying to rile me up? I could have cried, he was so bad at it. Not everyone was cut out to be an actor, I supposed. 

First, he stared too long—it was abnormal and a normal reaction would to be a bit creeped out. He was bad at playing casual and oblivious. Second, he was too provocative. Saying 'got a problem with it' was equivalent to either a threat or some other promise of danger. He should have said 'do you mind?' instead. Third, he made it worse by switching tones so blatantly—the joke was a clear afterthought, it was clear what he really wanted to know.

I just snorted. "Yeah, you were sitting up here earlier, I don't suppose you'd leave your panties lying around, would you?" I teased. 

Van flushed. "Wha—Fuck you, of course not!" He fumbled with the keys. I bit back a snicker. "I don't wear panties," he grumbled.

I gave him a teasing shrug. "Hey, it's all cool, I don't judge. Everybody has their kinks." I grinned, enough to keep my words from feeling too aggressive. 

Van's face tightened like he was trying to avoid glaring at me, face still red. He was probably realizing he'd have to change his angle if he didn't want me to just turn everything he said into a joke at his expense.

He unlocked the car door and I made my way over to the passenger side of Axel's car. As I buckled my seatbelt, I glanced at Van. His jaw was clenched slightly, brows furrowed in concentration. 

I bit my lip, hiding a grin. It was clear he was already annoyed with how I lead the conversation to poke fun at him, and was brainstorming what else he'd say.

"So, what's your address?" he asked, reversing out of the garage and driveway. 

I didn't really want to tell Van exactly where I lived. I didn't know how much he cared about me—if he did anything weird like creep around in front of our house with his car, Mother would throw a fit. Also, I had a glaring suspicion that if I told Van my address, I'd very soon wake up to find uninvited guests at our door. 

He didn't turn the GPS on, so I didn't feel obligated to give him an exact address, anyways. "Right by the plaza across the river," I said. Van seemed thoughtful. What was he considering? Probably how we lived in a lower-income neighbourhood. I wonder what he thought about that. 

"Did you move here recently?" he asked. 

I waited, cocking my head questioningly.

As expected, he hurriedly continued. "I heard that you transferred to our high-school about two years ago." So he had been asking around about me. "Are you from the city?"

"Mm, yeah, I've moved around a lot," I said vaguely. "My mother's job has us here and there, you know?" I looked at him like I expected him to agree.

Van nodded in agreement even though he clearly didn't. "Right, yeah." He paused, as if just realizing he didn't, in fact, know. He frowned slightly. "Wait, isn't she a doctor? Why is she moving around?"

Damn, he caught on. It was true that her career didn't necessarily require moving. "'Pursuing excellence', or whatever," I quoted her. That was what she often gave as our excuse. "You know how it is," I sighed long-sufferingly, sending Van an exasperated look. 

Van nodded sympathetically. He wasn't doing bad. When it came to casual conversation, he was good at seeming natural, even when his questions were probing. "So you move schools a lot?" He asked after a moment of thought. 

I waited, and he continued, filling in the silence. 

"We've always been here, so I can't imagine what that's like." 

'We'—was he referring to himself and Axel? Or perhaps he was talking about everyone in that massive house he lived in? 

"Yeah, you seem to know the place very well," I noted casually, switching the conversation to about him. "It's really nice to stay in one place, make it a proper home." 

"You don't stay long?" Van pressed, glancing at me. 

I shrugged. "We go here and there, but I'll finish high school here for sure." That was enough about that. 

"Speaking of which," Van changed topics as I expected. "What are your plans after graduating?"

I moaned dramatically, slumping over in my seat. "Don't even bring it up, I'll cry," I whined. Van glanced at me, snickering softly. "I've got no idea what I'll do."

Van hummed. "It's alright, we've still got time till application deadlines," he soothed. I sighed, tormented by the mere thought. 

"Are you planning on going to college?" he continued to ask anyways. 

"Probably gonna study business or something, I don't know," I conceded, throwing him a bone. He seemed satisfied with that revelation, so I took the opportunity to turn it back about him. "How about you? Law?"

Van hesitated. "Probably, yeah," he answered sheepishly. "If I get in, of course." 

This was better. "Nobody doubts that," I teased. "It's a matter of when you get in and where, isn't it?"

Van cleared his throat. "I don't want to get too ahead of myself, but I hope, yeah." 

I found his humbleness quite surprising. It was like he didn't show off when the topic was about himself. But I knew he was more than capable of being commandeering—he wasn't particularly shy. I wondered what motivated him, if it wasn't his own personal gain. 

"But I am more worried about Axel," he admitted.

Though it was a harmless comment, I couldn't help but note how Van lead the conversation to about Axel, of all things. It reminded me of how he was recording the conversation.

I briefly wondered what Van was trying to get at. Did he want me to say something bad about Axel? Why would he want that, to drive me away from him? But Axel was the one approaching me, so that didn't make any sense. Van obviously wouldn't expect me to sing Axel's praises, either—he knew I'd refrain from saying anything controversial, whether good or bad. So what did he want? 

I considered the opposite, impossible scenario—rather than drive me away, he was trying to drive me towards Axel. That didn't make sense—Axel wouldn't want that, that didn't make sense.

Or perhaps I was approaching it from the wrong angle. Maybe Van just defaulted to talking about Axel as a go-to, thought it was safe grounds. Or maybe he was trying to show off how close he was to Axel. I had to play it by ear.

"Really?" I asked neutrally, giving him the floor.

Van sighed, drumming his fingers on the wheel. "Yeah. I mean, he's not dumb, it's just hard to get him to concentrate on things he finds boring. If only he was as interested in his grades as he was in football, it would make my job a lot easier," Van ranted.

I hummed, encouraging him to continue. Van spoke as if he was Axel's caretaker. It made me question just why he cared so much. 

I thought about the shared mansion they lived in. Was it because Axel was the owner's son? Was there some family politics going on behind the scenes that forced Van to look after Axel? It didn't seem that way.  

"He's actually really good at applying things, but getting the things to stick in his head is just a pain in my ass," he continued. "Sometimes I have to bring math into football practice so he can actually pay attention," he snickered, and I chuckled as well when he glanced over. 

Van seemed almost proud—or endeared.

It was a bit amusing to hear Van speak like that—brag about Axel, about what they did together. He was shy and unforthcoming about his own success and achievements just moments ago, yet spoke freely, proudly, about Axel, of all things. 

What was there to be proud of about Axel? His face?

I was starting to catch onto something. It would be risky of me to bring it up, but I was feeling a bit spiteful about how he was recording and trying to get dirt on me, so I didn't resist the urge to. 

"You guys really are close," I noted after Van finished telling a story of how he bribed Axel into getting an A on a recent Calculus test. "No wonder people say you're dating," I said casually with a light laugh.

Van faze froze.

I bit back a grin and waited.

Van's face was tight. "What?" He gave a forced chuckle. "Who said that?" He demanded, voice strained.

I swallowed a snicker. Bingo. 

"Oh, you know how dumb rumours spread around," I waved it off, consoling. "Don't mind them, they're all ridiculous—there's no way you two would ever go out, right?" I reassured with confidence, fully aware that I was pouring salt in the wound.

Van remained silent for a long moment, jaw clenched. Please, could he make his crush on Axel any more obvious? His eyes flickered to where I sat, lounging comfortably.

"Yeah," he eventually forced out, badly masking his hurt and frustration. "There's no way." 

The mood of the conversation had shifted. It wasn't light-hearted but probing chatter, where Van masked his attempts to get as much information about me as possible while pretending not to care. Instead, it felt like he had turned a tiny bit unwelcoming. 

It was the small things, like the way his arms tensed, his forearm muscles flexing almost threateningly. His shoulders were raised, and while he was able to keep his face neutral, that was already an unfriendly change from the genuine curiosity and relative ease he had spoken with before.

I hummed. It would be fun to press harder, but I'd save that for another time. I needed to continue acting like I was there to be friends. 

"Yeah, I doubted it. Unless those really are your panties in the back," I teased, lightening the mood. Van relaxed a little, rolling his eyes.

Van was still brooding a bit, but surprisingly, he didn't change the topic. "They definitely aren't mine," he paused momentarily. "But who knows, really," he hesitated meaningfully, glancing at me.

"Axel has a... wide strike range, after all." 

I was the one who was reeling after that, and for a moment my lips remained parted, unable to determine what the best course of action was. What was I supposed to say to that? Should I be surprised? Was Van intentionally feeding me lies or gossip? Was this a well-known secret I should act like I already knew? 

I regained my composure in a moment, defaulting to playing oblivious, even though it was a weak defense. "Really?" I said, keeping my voice just casually disinterested enough as Van peered at me from the corner of his eye.

Why was Van implying Axel liked guys, too?