Page 89 of Too Many Beds

Ben isn’t surprised: his peculiar friend never shows himself around anyone else, but Ben’s reaction to his absence this time has been … unexpected.

He’s had roommates before, weeks or months of time when Luce’s presence in his life was replaced by a human boy. Previously, Ben missed his friend, but it feels different now, sharper and more irritating.

Maybe it’s because it has been nearly six months since his last roommate was released, or maybe it’s because during that time, Luce had stopped sleeping beneath the bed and crawled in next to Ben, warm and smelling of fire and safety. It made Ben’s heart race and his stomach tighten, his crush winding through his bones and organs like ivy up a wall.

But Ben never dared to make a move, never dared to treat Luce as anything more than his dearest friend. All that time, Luce never gave any clear indication of romantic interest, and he isn’t human. Ben has no idea how to approach the issue, and he shies away from even thinking about it too hard.

Of course, none of that matters when he wakes up to soiled sheets and the fading remnants of hormonal dreams scented with the tinge of smoke and the curl of his friend's mouth…

If Luce noticed Ben’s frequent and sudden retreats to the bathroom at four in the morning, he hasn’t bothered to mention it, instead simply cuddling into Ben’s warm spot with a sleepy little grumble at being disturbed from his rest.

The unresolved tension, guilt, and helpless longing leaves Ben feeling surly and prickly, and despite his best efforts, he finds himself taking out his temper on the boys around him. Hedoesn’t have a lot of friends at the reformatory, partly because he has never been particularly friendly and outgoing, but mostly because the majority of the teenagers locked up with him are unpleasant and violent, broken from whatever trauma led to the crimes that landed them in juvenile detention.

Ben has grown tall and strong enough that the newcomers often choose to avoid him when jockeying for position, and the few boys who have been here as long as Ben has know better than to bother him.

He sticks to himself as much as he can, but he is still prone to starting the occasional fight when a younger or more vulnerable kid finds themselves the victim of one of the more persistent bullies.

Todd, however, is getting on his nerves.

Ben clenches his teeth and resolutely stares at the words on the page in front of him, determined to read his novel and ignore the muttered cursing and discordant scales coming from his roommate, who has, for some unfathomable reason, decided to check out the cheap guitar from the underutilized music room in the rec.

Ben glares at the book in his hands, his focus slipping as Todd strums out an awkward tune. It’s not that he dislikes music; he just can’t stand how Todd is ruining the quiet he’s grown accustomed to. The walls feel like they’re closing in, the noise reverberating in his head in a drumbeat of irritation.

“Could you stop?” Ben snaps, not looking up from his book.

“Sorry, man! Just trying to learn.” Todd’s voice is cheerful, oblivious to Ben’s rising frustration. “I thought I’d practice while you read.”

Ben slams his book shut, the noise slicing through the room. “You thought the best time to practice guitar was when I was reading?”

Todd chuckles, undeterred. “You’re just jealous you can’t play. I’ll teach you, if you want.”

“No,” Ben mutters, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to calm down, “thank you.” The comment barely registers with Todd, who just shrugs and launches into another off-key riff.

Ben’s eyes flick to the empty space beside him.Luce should be here, he thinks. His head wouldn’t hurt if Luce were here. They could be talking about anything, or nothing at all. Instead, the bed feels heavy and lonely.

His mind drifts back to those nights when Luce would curl up beside him, whispering secrets and sharing stories of his own kind, foreign and frightening and strange, but lullabies in Luce’s lilting voice. Now? Now, the absence of Luce is a dull ache in his chest. He can’t help but wonder if Todd’s presence is a sign that he’s lost Luce for good.

“Hey,” Todd says, interrupting Ben’s spiraling thoughts. “You alright?” The guitar in his hands twangs unpleasantly and goes silent.

Ben clenches his jaw, not wanting to let Todd’s friendliness get to him. “Fine,” he grumbles, shifting on his bed. He hates that Todd seems to genuinely care.

“Look, I get it. It’s hard being in here. But it doesn’t have to suck all the time,” Todd continues, setting the guitar down and looking at Ben earnestly. “I can be your friend.”

“I don’t need a friend,” Ben shoots back, the words slipping out sharper than he intended. “What I want is my room back!”

Todd raises his hands defensively. “Whatever, dude. Just trying to help.”

Ben stares at him for a long moment, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Maybe it would be easier to let it out, to talk to someone. But he doesn’t want Todd to see how weak he feels.

“I’m fine,” he repeats, softly this time, though it sounds hollow even to him. Luckily, Todd either doesn’t hear or ignoreshim, turning his attention back to the stained chordbook on the desk in front of him.

A flicker of movement catches Ben’s eye. It’s subtle, just a shimmer in the corner of the room. His heart races as he turns, half-expecting to see Luce.

But it’s just the sunlight filtering through the window, casting playful shadows. Luce’s absence feels suffocating again, and Ben swallows hard. The light fades as Todd picks up the guitar once more, strumming an overly cheerful chord that sets Ben’s teeth on edge.

“I’m going for a walk,” Ben mutters, standing up.

“Okay! I’ll be here when you get back!” Todd calls after him, the enthusiasm in his voice making Ben feel even more irritable.

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