When I woke up, everything felt exactly the same as it had for the past few days. Stagnant. Numb. Like I’d hit pause on my life, but the rest of the world kept going.

This love thing... well, it kinda sucks, not gonna lie.

Chris had been avoiding me like I was radioactive. He even swapped shifts just to dodge me.

I mean, I can’t exactly blame him. But it still stung... more than I expected. More than I wanted to admit.

***

After lunch, I ended up at the bleachers. Didn’t know where else to go. I sat down, slumped into the familiar curve of my jacket, and stuck my hand into the pocket out of habit, then froze.

Right. The cigarettes.

Gone.

I’d thrown the pack away outside the shop after he gave me the lollipop. Probably one of the few good decisions I’d made lately.

But my fingers brushed against something else.

I pulled it out slowly.

A lollipop. A couple of sad little freebies I’d taken from the shop after closing alone yesterday.

I stuck it between my lips.

Great. At least now I’ll get cavities instead of cancer. Thanks, Chris.

I glanced around, almost without thinking. No Jamie either. He’d been giving me the cold shoulder, too. To be honest, I feel like an asshole.

This is messed up to say, but sometimes I kinda forget he’s a human being. I’ve been treating him like he’s some piece of meat or something. Just a prop. But he really does mean a lot to me... Maybe I should tell him that sometime...

It's like I have somehow created this entire orbit of miscommunication and self-sabotage. A solar system of bad timing and worse choices.

And I’m the idiot sun at the center of it all.

***

When the bell rang to mark the end of the school day later that day, I grabbed my bag and rushed out the door.

I couldn’t take the silence anymore. The pretending. Either Chris was going to tell me to screw off forever, or we were going to talk it out.

I’d take either at this point. I just wanted an answer.

I caught up to him near the side exit. He didn’t even turn when I called his name.

“Chris, can we talk?”

He stopped walking, just barely, and glanced at me like I’d asked him for a kidney.

“Not today. I have to study.”

A thunderclap shook the building as if to punctuate his mood. The rain had been picking up all day, and now it was full-blown cinematic.

“At least let me give you a ride,” I said. “Otherwise, you’ll get soaked.”

“I think I’m good, thanks.”

Ice cold. He might as well have slammed a door in my face.

“Come on, Chris... Don’t be an idiot.”

That did it.

He turned, glaring at me like he wanted to throttle me.

Honestly?

He looked kind of cute when he was mad. Better than when he pretended not to care.

“So now I’m the idiot, huh?” he snapped.

“Well... yeah,” I muttered. “But a cute one.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Come on,” I said, trying for a grin. “It’s just a ride. I’ll stay quiet. I swear.”

He scoffed again, but this time there was the tiniest flicker of amusement in it. His shoulders dropped a little.

“You know what?” he said. “Sure. So you can stop stalking me.”

Victory.

Not forgiveness. Not warmth. But a step.

We bolted toward the car, getting half-drenched along the way, and tumbled into our seats, panting.

I looked over at him.

“So—”

“You said you’d stay quiet,” he said flatly, wiping his glasses.

“Come on...”

“It’s fine,” he said with a sigh. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to, anyway. So go ahead.”

I exhaled.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t know you would care.”

“Yeah... me neither,” he admitted.

He rubbed his forehead like it physically hurt to say that.

“The thing is, I really don’t like seeing you miserable,” he continued. “And it’s so frustrating, because you do this to yourself. On purpose.”

“It’s not on purpose!” I snapped, louder than I meant. “Do you think I enjoy it? Screwing up every good thing I’ve got going? I don’t. I just... I don’t know how to stop it. It’s this cycle. Over and over.”

“Then break it,” he said simply.

“It’s not that easy.”

My grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“It’s like I’m carrying this pile of books, okay? Everything’s fine at first. Manageable. And then one falls—no big deal, I pick it up. Keep going. Then another falls. And when I bend down to grab it, two more hit the ground. And then more. And eventually, they’re all just scattered around me, and I don’t even know when or why it started.”

I swallowed hard.

“Maybe it was when I got thrown out of the closet. Or when I got my first F. I don’t fucking know, okay?!”

The wipers dragged across the windshield with a squeaky groan. I blinked. We were already in front of his house.

I hadn’t even realized I’d driven there.

“I... I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I didn’t mean to yell. I’m not mad at you. I’m just... yelling at myself.”

I dropped my forehead against the steering wheel and stayed there. Everything felt heavy.

Loud inside.

                       And stupid.

                                            Useless.

                                                            Hopeless.

My eyes started watering. I feel so fucking stupid. I screwed everything up with everyone.

Then, there was his hand on my shoulder. Warm. Gentle.

“Hey. Hey.”

His hand stayed on my arm.

“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “I know.” His voice was soft again.

Fragile, almost. Like if he said it too loud, I’d break even more.

I let out a breath that shook too much. Tried to rub my face dry to hide how much it hurt.

Shit...

“Do you wanna come in?” he asked. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to drive like this.”

I nodded, then shook my head. I didn’t know.

I was embarrassed.

Ashamed.

I pressed my palms to my eyes and tried to pull myself back together. At least enough to walk upright.

“Why do you still try?” I muttered. The words scraped out of me, raw and hoarse.

He didn’t answer right away.

Just looked at me.

Then, almost too softly to hear:

“Because I can’t pretend I don’t care. Even when you push me away.”

He looked down for a second, then back at me.

“Please. Just... come in.”

I nodded.

Because how could I say no to someone who looked at me like that? Like I’m not just a hopeless piece of shit.

***

Upstairs in his room, I dug into my pocket for the last lollipop.

All I really wanted was to sit outside in the rain, chain-smoking until my lungs gave out.

But this was all I had to quiet the craving.

We peeled off our soaked jackets. He hung his neatly on the back of his desk chair. I tossed mine on the desk, but he shot me a death glare, so I hung it up too..

He sat on the edge of his bed, watching me.

That’s when I realized I was just standing there like an idiot. With a lollipop in my mouth.

I pulled it out awkwardly. “Oh. Uh... sorry. Do you want some?”

I pulled it out awkwardly. “Oh. Sorry. Do you want... uh, some?”

Why did I say that? Why?

He laughed. “No, thanks. You need it more than I do.”

That relaxed me a bit.

I sat down beside him.

“You know why I hang out with Jamie?” I asked. “Because it’s low stakes. Low effort. Nothing to lose. Because emotionally... he’s probably the best I can pull.”

Chris rolled his eyes.

“Listen, probably I'm the one who needs to apologize.”

“Why?”

He took off his glasses and rubbed his face. He then looked at me, defeated.

“It wasn’t fair of me to get mad.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Not to me. You can make out with whoever you want. And when I said you do all this crap on purpose, I didn’t mean that.”

He leaned back on his hands.

“It's just... I don't like seeing you punishing yourself like that. It’s just like self-harm, Troy, you know that? You keep choosing to do things you know will hurt you eventually.”

I didn’t argue. He wasn’t wrong.

He let himself fall back onto the bed, feet still dangling over the edge. I followed his lead and lay beside him, both of us staring at the ceiling.

“You’ve convinced yourself you deserve it,” he said. “Just because you made some dumb decisions.”

His words weren’t angry anymore. Just... sad. And full of that quiet insight he sometimes surprised me with.

“You shouldn’t give up on yourself,” he added. “There’s plenty of good things about you.”

I turned my head toward him. “Like what?”

He smirked. “Fishing for compliments?”

“No,” I protested. “I just... want to know.”

Maybe I needed that more than I would’ve wanted to admit.

He didn’t look at me, but his voice shifted. Lower, honest.

“You’re brave, you know? Like you're not afraid of saying what's on your mind.”

He was blushing. So was I.

I would call it being dumb. But it was nice to know he saw me like that.

“You don’t stress about meaningless things. You don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

I swallowed. No one had ever said that to me before. Not like that.

I propped myself up on one elbow to watch him.

He stayed on his back, still gazing at the ceiling.

“Being with you...” he said slowly, “it quiets my head. I don’t know how to explain it. But it makes me feel safe.”

His eyes finally met mine.

And I leaned in.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but I kissed him.

Quick. Soft. Testing the waters.

I pulled back almost immediately, sitting stiff on the bed. He froze, too.

Shit. Did I screw up again? Did I misread it? What if—

Before I could finish spiraling, he leaned in.

He tugged lightly on my shirt, pulling me closer.

And then he kissed me. Just like that.

And it felt... like heaven.

The way he tasted. The way he kissed me back, slow and steady, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Then the front door slammed downstairs.

Chris jumped like he’d been electrocuted.

“Shit, it’s my dad.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. He scrambled off the bed and flopped into his desk chair, nearly falling out of it, then tossed me a math book like we were suddenly deep in homework.

It probably wouldn’t even cross his dad’s mind that his “straight” son had just been kissing me on the bed.

But it was cute that Chris thought otherwise.

***

Back in my room, I stared at my phone for way too long. Part of me wanted to give him space. Part of me wanted to ask a million things—what it meant, if he liked it too, if it was just a moment or the beginning of something real. What won out was something in the middle.

Me: I... really liked being with you today.

I hit send before I could talk myself out of it.

A few minutes passed. Then—

Chris: Me too... Getting that ride was the best thing I could’ve done.

My chest bloomed with something warm and uncontainable.

I couldn’t stop smiling.

It was kind of embarrassing. But not really.

I don’t know what this is yet.

But at least we’re not pretending it didn’t happen.