The response seemed to satisfy our classmates, who exchanged knowing looks and moved on to discussing weekend plans.
The rest of the study group session passed in a blur of academic discussion punctuated by assumptions about our relationship status. Someone mentioned a campus couples’ trivia night, and Jessica asked how long we’d been dating. Kolby told us how he met his girlfriend and reiterated how bummed they were not to get an apartment. Through it all, Bash maintained his calm composure, easily deflecting questions without raising suspicion, all casual charm, while I sat frozen in mortified silence.
Our next class was even worse. Professor Chen droned on about Henry Kissinger while I snuck glances at Bash, trying to decipher his expression. He seemed focused on the lecture, taking his usual careful notes, but there was something different about the set of his shoulders, a tension that hadn’t been there before.
Was he angry with me? Or upset about having to pose as a couple? As if yesterday’s debacle hadn’t been embarrassing enough, we now had to deal with this as well.
When class finally ended, we gathered our things in silence and walked back toward Cascade Hall. The late-summer air was warm and gentle, and students were scattered across the quad in small groups, enjoying the gorgeous day. It should have been peaceful, normal, exactly the kind of university experience I’d dreamed of having.
Instead, I felt like I was walking toward some sort of reckoning.
Back in our suite, I couldn’t bear the tension any longer. “About last night. About this morning. About everything, really. I’m terribly sorry.”
He set his textbooks down on the kitchen counter and turned to face me, his expression unreadable. “Sorry for what?”
“For…” I gestured helplessly. “For staring. For making things awkward. For forcing you to lie about us being a couple.”
Bash was quiet for a long moment, studying my face. Then he sighed and moved to our small couch, gesturing for me to join him. “Eddie, we need to talk about the situation we’re in.”
My heart plummeted. Here it was, the conversation I’d been dreading. The one where he explained that my behavior was inappropriate, that he’d have to report back to his supervisors, that this arrangement wasn’t going to work.
“I know,” I said quietly, sinking into the chair across from him instead of the couch. Distance seemed safer. “I’ve made things complicated, and I’m prepared to face the consequences.”
“That’s not what this is about.” Bash leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “The problem isn’t what happened last night. The problem is what’s happening now.”
I blinked. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“These apartments are for couples only. We knew that from the start. Like you, I’d hoped no one would actually ask us about it, but they are. We can’t deny it. Not only could they report us to the university for fraud, but it would also trigger massive curiosity. People are going to wonder why two guys who are not dating are spending every moment together, why we never date anyone else, why we’re so comfortable with each other. They’re going to start asking questions we can’t answer.”
The implications of what he was saying slowly sank in. “You’re suggesting we truly pretend to be a couple?”
“I don’t think we have much of a choice. Denying it would complicate things big time.”
“But we’re both straight,” I said, then immediately felt my cheeks burn. The words felt like ash in my mouth.
Bash was quiet for a moment, and something shifted in his expression. When he spoke, his voice was softer than I’d ever heard it. “I’m not. Straight, I mean. I’m bi, but nobody knows. Nobody back home, nobody here. It’s not something I’ve ever been able to be open about. You’re literally the first person I’ve told.”
The admission hung in the air between us, vulnerable and honest and completely unexpected. He wasn’t straight? Not in a million years would I have ever guessed.
But more than that, awe filled me that he’d entrusted me with this. He hadn’t told anyone, but he’d trusted me to be the first. Something loosened in my chest, a knot of fear and shame that I’d been carrying for so long, I’d forgotten it was there.
“Neither am I. I’m gay, but no one knows except my friends.”
Bash’s eyes widened slightly. “Yeah?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“Jesus, Eddie.” Bash’s voice was rough with something that might have been relief. “How long have you known?”
“Forever. Since I was ten, probably. Don’t forget I went to an all-boys boarding school. Plenty of opportunity to figure that out. And you?”
“When I was fifteen and had the biggest crush on my new PE teacher…” He chuckled. “Nothing ever came from it but it gave me some interesting dreams for a while.”
I was all too familiar with those.
We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of our mutual confession settling between us. I felt simultaneously exposed and relieved, terrified and liberated. Here was someone who understood, someone who knew what it was like to hide such a fundamental part of yourself.
“So,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “Posing as a couple.”
