“Never mind,” he mumbled, rolling onto his back and pulling the sheet up to his chest.
I didn’t say anything. Couldn’t tell him I was scared. Couldn’t tell him Iwantedto go. That I wanted him. That I wanted to kiss him on our parents’ front porch and sleep in the same bed and not pretend anymore.
But I wasn’t there yet. I didn’t know how to be.
So instead, I lay there next to him, breathing his air, sharing his warmth, and slowly building the wall between us brick by brick.
It wasn’t the trip. It was what it meant. Being in that house, knowing I was keeping a secret so loud it echoed in every room. Being near him and not allowed to reach for him, not the way I did now. Not without risking everything.
I looked away, voice flat. “Let’s just… not make plans yet.”
I grabbed my phone to distract myself from the way his expression shifted. Tru didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to. I could already feel the crack forming again between us.
We didn’t talk much the rest of the day, barely making eye contact. I caught up with him in the Dining Hall. Tru stood next to me in line for pizza. Our shoulders brushed for half a second, my whole body tensed, and I stepped away.
Tru didn’t react. Just studied me, cataloguing data.
Okay. So that’s how it’s gonna be.
Then Parker from my team trailed behind us with a tray full of fries, loud and obvious as usual.
“Yo, lovebirds. You two married yet?”
My blood ran cold. I laughed too loud, too fake, and slappedTru’s back like we were just guys being guys. “Only in tax brackets.”
Parker laughed. Tru didn’t. He didn’t even crack a smile. Just picked at his food before walking off.
Later, back in the dorm, I was still crawling out of my skin. Tru was reading, curled up in bed like some fucking dream I couldn’t let myself touch. So I picked a fight about the trash, of all things.
“It’s your turn to take it out,” I said flatly.
“I did it yesterday.”
“Pretty sure that was last week.”
He didn’t rise to it, just gave me a tired, knowing look. “You’re mad because someone noticed?” he asked.
“No.”Yes. My chest hurt. My jaw clenched. “I’m mad because you act like this is something it’s not.”
He set the book down slowly. “I didn’t do or say anything.”
“You don’t have to,” I said, and my voice cracked just enough to humiliate me. “It’s all over your face.”
The quiet that followed was worse than yelling. Worse than anything. I grabbed my jacket and left before I could do something even more stupid. Like, tell him how much I wanted to believe he was right.
That was followed by two days of silence. It was the longest I’d gone without touching him since that first kiss at the party.
We were back in the car, driving across campus in our shared Honda, fast food wrappers littering the floor, dashboard lights flickering because I still hadn’t fixed the fuse.
Tru sat in the passenger seat, picking at an apple as if he didn’t care, but I knew him. Every shift of his body, every subtle glance. He was waiting for me to say something.
Fuck that. The silence stretched tight, ready to snap.
“So,” he finally said. “Are you gonna tell my mom you’re not coming, or should I?”
I tightened my grip on the wheel, knuckles white. “Just tell her I have stuff to do here.”
“She’ll know you’re lying.”
