I toss my phone onto the bed and lean back, hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling like it might rearrange itself into an answer.

Jace is bi.

That wasn’t something I expected to learn tonight. Not that it’s a big deal—at least, it’s not supposed to be. I’ve known people who are queer. It’s not new. Just… different when it’s someone you were just texting about chips and music and band groupies.

He said it like it wasn’t a thing. Like it’s just part of who he is. Casual. Normal.

And I guess it is.

I’m not bothered by it. That’s not what this is. It’s just new info, dropped in like it’s no more important than what time the next gig is. And I guess I respect that—how he owned it, then moved right on.

I wonder if other people know. If Cole does. If his band does. Or if I’m just some random guy he decided to tell for no real reason.

Not that it means anything.

I grab my phone again. Scroll through the conversation. Reread the part where he said, “It’s not a thing.”

And for him, it clearly isn’t.

So it won’t be for me either.

I put the phone down, this time face-down, and shut my eyes.

Not thinking too hard about anything. Just letting it be.

I shift onto my back again, staring at the ceiling like it might offer better ideas than my brain.

Jace could be… cool to have around.

Not in some big dramatic way—just, like, as a friend. He’s not fake. Doesn’t care who’s watching. Talks like there’s no scoreboard, no angle. I don’t get that a lot.

Everyone I’m close to has known me since middle school. Since football started mattering. Since I got labeled as “the guy” and had to play the part whether I felt like it or not.

Jace doesn’t care about any of that. He barely even asked about it.

And for some reason, that makes it easier to talk to him. Like I can say dumb stuff and not have to explain it or clean it up after.

That’s rare. And yeah, maybe unexpected. But it’s kind of nice.

He could be a good friend.

I mean, if that’s even something he’s into. I don’t know how many "golden-boy" football payers he has in his contacts.

Still. It’d be cool.

I pull the covers up, finally starting to settle, and let that thought hang in the quiet:

Jace Ryder might actually be someone I could just be myself around.