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August 2017
By late August, the air had started to shift again into that weird limbo between summer and fall, when the evenings were still warm but the light felt different. Thinner. School was starting again soon, which meant Gabe would be heading back to college in a few days. So would Youngjae.
Luke tried not to think about it too much, but the thought of both of them being gone again made his stomach twist. Not because he’d miss Gabe (well, he would, obviously) but because it meant Young would be gone too. And that part? That part was stupidly complicated. Especially since they hadn’t talked since that night of the party. Oh, yeah. The night luke had KISSED HIM LIKE AN IDIOT.
To make matters worse, his parents seemed to adore Youngjae more with every passing day. They still felt guilty about what had happened over Christmas, about accidentally outing him in front of his parents, so now they overcompensated. They’d buy him little gifts when they went shopping, ask about his classes, invite him over for dinner like he was already part of the family. Luke couldn’t tell if it was genuine affection or penance, but either way, it made his skin itch.
When his mom had announced earlier that week that they were having a “little farewell dinner” for Gabe and Young before they went back to Harvard, Luke had wanted to sink into the floor.
“Luke, honey, it’ll be nice,” she’d said when she saw his face. “We haven’t had a proper meal all together in ages.”
“Yeah, because he’s not part of the family,” Luke had muttered under his breath.
“He might as well be,” mom had said.
“And why is that?”
“Because he and your brother are joint at the hip,” mom had said sternly. “Honestly, Luke. What is wrong with you? Maybe you should try talking to him more. The pair of you are going to be in each others lives whether you like it or not because he is Gabe’s best friend. Putting in some effort might do you some good.”
God, Luke wanted to yell.
Didn’t she realise how much those words had hurt him?
Now, as he stood in front of his mirror trying to convince himself to leave his room, the familiar weight settled heavy in his chest. He didn’t want to go downstairs. He didn’t want to sit across from Young like nothing had happened between them. He didn’t want to watch his parents beam at him like he was the golden boy who could do no wrong. He wanted to skip the whole thing. Lock himself in his room and pretend none of this was happening. But he could already hear Gabe’s voice floating up from downstairs, deep and loud, followed by his mom’s laughter. The smell of roasted garlic and butter filled the air. Luke sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He hated that Young still had this hold on him for absolutely no reason. That after everything, he could make Luke feel small just by existing.
“Just dinner,” Luke told his reflection quietly. “It’s just dinner. You can get through it.”
But even as he said it, his chest tightened, because he already knew he was lying.
Luke eventually dragged himself downstairs, every step heavy with reluctant energy. He’d pulled on what he liked to call his “best boy clothes”. It was actually just a dark button-up that actually fit his shoulders right and a pair of black jeans that made him feel more like himself. He’d even combed through his new navy-blue hair, the strands catching the light as he stepped into the dining room.
Everyone was already there. His mom was fussing over the food as she placed it down on the table, his dad was pouring drinks into the glasses, and Gabe was laughing at something Young had said. But when Luke appeared at the doorway, the sound seemed to fade for a second.
Young looked up, mid-laugh, and went still. His dark eyes locked on Luke, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Luke swore he could feel that gaze all over him. The surprise, the quiet admiration, the way Young’s lips parted slightly like he was about to say something but thought better of it. Luke’s chest squeezed tight. He should’ve felt proud. Triumphant, even. Because Young was looking at him like that. Like he couldn’t look away. But instead, all Luke felt was tired. Tired of Young’s back-and-forth glances, of the quiet things unsaid, of being pulled in one moment and pushed away the next.
“New hair,” Young finally said, voice soft. “Looks good.”
Luke gave him a short nod, his tone flat. “Thanks.”
Gabe, blissfully unaware of the tension humming under the surface, clapped a hand on Luke’s back as he walked past to get to his own chair. “Doesn’t he look like a total rockstar now?”
“Yeah,” Young said, still watching Luke. “He does.”
Luke looked away first, moving to take his seat at the table. His mom gestured for everyone to sit, still smiling in that overly bright, parental way. The table was beautiful—plates of roast chicken, salad, potatoes, garlic bread, the works. The kind of dinner you’d think belonged to a perfect family.
For a while, the conversation stayed light. Gabe talked about his upcoming classes, his friends, how crazy dorm life could get. Luke stayed quiet, picking at his food. Every time Young’s laugh slipped into the conversation, Luke felt it like a static charge in his chest.
Then his mom, with all the unfiltered curiosity in the world, turned to Young and asked, “So, how have your parents been? We haven’t seen them since Christmas.”
The question hung in the air.
Young froze for a fraction of a second. Then he smiled. It was clearly a practiced, polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “They’ve been okay,” he said softly. His eyes stayed trained on his plate. “They don’t really talk to me much these days.”
“Oh?” Luke’s dad asked, concern in his tone. “They busy with work?”
“No,” Young said simply. “They just don’t really want to see me. Not since they found out.”
The silence that followed was sharp. Even the sound of the cutlery stopped. Gabe’s hand tightened around his fork, glancing at his best friend in worry. Mom’s expression fell, the guilt flickering across her face painfully obvious.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, “I’m so sorry. That’s… awful.”
Young gave a tiny shrug, still looking down at his plate. “It’s okay. I kinda knew it would happen eventually. I just didn’t think it’d be this bad.”
Luke watched him quietly, his throat tight. The way Young said it, so calm and controlled, like he was used to it…made Luke’s stomach twist. He’d seen that kind of tone before. It was the sound of someone who’d accepted pain as normal. He wanted to say something. Anything. But he couldn’t. Because what could he say? That he was sorry? That he understood? He didn’t. Not in the way Young meant it. His own family loved him. They had never shunned him. He would never understand what it meant to be hated by your own family for something you couldn’t control.
The dinner went on, quieter now. The laughter had faded, replaced by soft murmurs and forced smiles. Luke pushed his food around his plate, stealing glances at Young from across the table. The other boy looked the same as always—composed, polite, beautiful. But Luke could see the hurt sitting behind his eyes. And all Luke could think was how strange it was that, despite everything that had happened between them, he still wanted to reach across the table and take his hand to make him feel better.
Luke’s mom, bless her heart, always meant well…but sometimes she didn’t know when to stop. “Don’t worry, Young. I’m sure they’ll come around. I mean, honestly. It’s not the end of the world and they’ll soon realise how wrong they were. Just you wait and see,” she said brightly, breaking through the awkward silence.
Gabe threw his a mom a fake smile. “Well said, Linda.”
Mom rolled her eyes, ignoring his sarcasm. “I’m just saying, they’re completely overreacting. So you have a boyfriend. It’s not a big deal!”
Luke stiffened immediately. His fork froze halfway to his mouth.
Young blinked in surprise, then smiled awkwardly. “Oh, uh, yeah..”
His dad joined in, leaning forward with a gentle grin. “We didn’t get to talk about him much last time. What’s his name?”
“Ryan,” Young replied quietly.
“That’s a nice name,” Luke’s mom said, clasping her hands like this was the most exciting news she’d heard all week. “What does he study?”
“Pre-med,” Young said.
“Pre-med! He must be brilliant. How did you two meet?”
Luke could practically feel the heat rising in his face. Every word made his stomach twist tighter. He tried to take a sip of water, hoping it’d distract him, but it didn’t help. He just wanted this conversation to end.
Young chuckled softly. “We met on campus. Well, at a party. He offered to walk me home because somebody ditched me.”
Gabe sheepishly smiled. “Hey, at least it all worked out in the end huh? If I hadn’t left you to fend for yourself, you never would have met the love of your life.”
Young cleared his throat sharply. “That might be a little far, but I get what you’re saying.”
“That’s so sweet,” Luke’s mom said, grinning ear to ear. “See? Everything happens for a reason. You deserve someone kind.”
Luke’s dad nodded in agreement. “Absolutely. It’s good to see you happy.”
Luke’s jaw clenched. Happy. Sure. Happy. He was so, so done with this conversation. The worst part was that his parents were trying to make Young feel comfortable to make up for what had happened last year, but every word felt like a knife twisting in Luke’s chest. He didn’t want to picture Young laughing with some dumb pre-med mature boy. He didn’t want to imagine them studying together, or holding hands, for all he knew, kissing in dorm rooms like it was the easiest thing in the world. His heart thudded painfully in his ears.
“Well,” he said suddenly, cutting into the conversation mid-sentence, “I think I’m gonna head upstairs.”
His mom blinked, surprised. “Oh, already? We haven’t even had dessert yet.”
“I’m full,” Luke muttered, already pushing his chair back. “You guys can have mine.”
“What? Why? You love my cherry pie.”
“I’m just not hungry,” Luke mumbled
“Luke,” dad scolded. “Don’t leave.”
“I’m finished though,” Luke said sharply.
He could feel Young staring at him.
“You okay?” Gabe asked with a frown, his tone cautioning.
Luke barely glanced at anyone. “Yep. I’m fine. Nice dinner,” he mumbled, even though his throat felt like it was closing up. “Thanks, Mom.” And before anyone could stop him, he turned and made his way up the stairs.
He didn’t slam his door when he reached his room, he just shut it quietly and leaned against it, his hands trembling. He could still hear the faint murmur of voices downstairs, his parents probably trying to smooth things over, Young probably trying to pretend everything was fine. Luke pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes, forcing himself not to cry again. It was pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his dark navy hair reflected faintly in the mirror across the room. He’d thought changing how he looked might change how he felt. That if he could be strong enough, confident enough, maybe his heart would stop being so damn fragile. But it hadn’t changed anything. He laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The house smelled like garlic bread and warmth and everything he should’ve loved, but all he could feel was the ache sitting in his chest, stubborn and hollow.
He told himself he’d stop thinking about Young tonight. Just one night where he didn’t care. But when he closed his eyes, it was Young’s voice he still heard—soft and careful, saying that stupid name.
Ryan.
Ew.
Luke stripped down to his sleep shorts and an oversized T-shirt that hung loose over his binder, just wanting the night to be over. He brushed his teeth without looking at himself in the mirror, flicked off the lamp, and crawled into bed. The faint chatter downstairs had faded now, replaced by the hum of the fridge and the soft creak of the old house settling.
He shifted under the covers and winced. His binder was making it harder and harder to be comfortable nowadays. He knew he was stupid. He knew he should take it off. Honestly, Gabe was right. Luke would rather risk his health just to feel more masculine, even in his own home. He knew he shouldn’t have been sleeping in it, but his dysmorphic brain ruled his world, so what the hell else was he supposed to do?
Fuck it.
Luke shuffled under the covers and awkwardly shuffled out of the binder. Once it was off, Luke let out a huge sigh of relief. He could actually breathe and move around and feel comfortable for once. Honestly, he just couldn’t wait to get surgery so he could just move around freely without something restricting his chest every goddamn day.
And bottom surgery…? Fuck, Luke didn’t want to become delusion but he REALLY wanted bottom surgery too. Honestly, every single cent he had was going towards this much needed surgery. He also knew his parents would help him with the cash and that he would eventually pay them back later. He just needed to turn 18 as soon as possible to he could finally get his dream body.
He was just about to close his eyes when there was a quiet knock at his door. He groaned. “Gabe, if you’re coming to give me a lecture about storming off—”
The door opened.
It wasn’t Gabe.
“Uh, hey,” Youngjae said softly from the doorway.
Luke shot upright, the blanket slipping off his lap. His heart jumped straight into his throat. “Oh my god, don’t just walk in!” He scrambled to pull the blanket up, clutching it to his chest like it was armour to hide the evidence of his shame.
Young held up his hands, a sheepish smile flickering across his face. “Sorry, I thought you said to come in.”
“I thought you were Gabe,” Luke muttered, glaring at the wall to avoid meeting his eyes. “You can’t just… fuck, what are you even doing here?”
Young hesitated in the doorway, one hand resting awkwardly on the frame. “I just… wanted to say bye. We’re heading out early tomorrow, and I didn’t want to leave without—” He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. “—you know. Saying something.”
Luke tightened his grip on the blanket. “You could’ve texted.”
Young gave a small laugh, trying to ease the tension. “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t get to see your stylish pyjama look. Very minimalist.”
Luke shot him a flat look. “Hilarious.”
Young smirked weakly but it didn’t reach his eyes. The humour slipped away as quickly as it came. He lingered there, the silence between them heavy and strange. “Anyway, I didn’t wanna leave until I saw you,” he said finally, his voice quieter.
“Does Gabe know you’re sneaking into my room right now?” Luke asked hastily, glancing behind Young to see whether his brother was snooping.
“Yeah, he knows,” Young said. “He’s downstairs.”
“And he’s not slightly suspicious that you’re up here saying goodbye?”
Young let out a small laugh. “You know, you’re the only who thinks its a problem if we’re friends. Nobody else cares. In fact, your mom was thrilled I asked to come say goodbye to you. She wants us all to get along.”
Luke huffed. “She thinks I could use more friends, that’s all.”
“Couldn’t you?” Young teased.
“Did you come to say goodbye, or to be an asshole?”
“To say goodbye,” Young rolled his eyes. Then he looked at Luke with a softer expression. “But I’ll, uh… probably see you again at Christmas.”
Luke’s stomach twisted. “Yeah?”
“If my parents haven’t decided they officially hate me by then.” He tried to sound casual, but the words came out brittle. He looked down, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve. “They’re still not really talking to me. Not properly. So I don’t know if they’re going to want me home over the holidays. If they don’t, I have a pretty strong feeling Gabe will drag me here with him.”
Luke’s irritation faltered. “Young—”
“It’s fine,” Young said too quickly. “I don’t really wanna talk about my parents anyway. They’ll get over it. Or they won’t. I’m used to it by now.”
The air in the room changed, like the joke had curdled into something sad. Luke didn’t know what to say. There was still that part of him that wanted to hate Young for everything, but hearing him talk like that made it almost impossible. He shifted on the bed, his voice quieter. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”
Young looked up, his eyes soft and tired in the half-dark. For a moment, Luke thought he might say something real, but instead Young just smiled that same practiced smile he always used when things hurt too much. “Yeah, well,” he said, taking a small step back toward the hallway. “It’s kind of my thing.”
Luke wanted to stop him. Wanted to tell him he was an idiot, that he still hated how complicated everything was…but the kind words stuck in his throat. Instead, all that came out was a pathetic, “hope you have fun at Harvard with Gabe and Ryan.”
Young stared at him for a long time.
Luke hated that he added the second name. He knew how it made him look. He knew he sounded completely and utterly pathetic.
Young nodded. “See you soon, Luke.”
“Yeah,” Luke said quietly. “See ya.”
Young lingered one last second before closing the door behind him.
The click of the latch felt louder than it should have. Luke sat there in the dark, blanket pulled up to his chin, his chest tight. For a long time, he stared at the spot where Young had just been standing, the faint scent of his cologne still hanging in the air. And when he finally lay back down, it wasn’t sleep that came. It was the kind of silence that burned.
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The first day of senior year arrived quicker than Luke had anticipated. He didn’t feel ready. He hadn’t even picked out an outfit until five minutes before Eli showed up honking in the driveway.
“Get your ass in the car!” Eli yelled out the window.
Luke rolled his eyes but couldn’t help a small smile. “You’re way too happy for this.”
“First day of senior year, baby!” Eli beamed, smacking the steering wheel for emphasis. The smell of new car leather filled the air as Luke climbed in.
“You finally got it, huh?” Luke asked, buckling up.
Eli nodded proudly. “My baby. Took all summer of tutoring middle schoolers, but she’s mine.”
Luke chuckled, running a hand over the dashboard. “She’s shiny.”
“I know,” Eli said, eyes gleaming before his smile dimmed just a little. “Nate would’ve loved it.”
The words hung there. Luke glanced at him quietly. Eli still smiled, still bounced his knee, still tried to act like nothing was wrong, but the way his hands gripped the wheel a bit too tight said everything. “Yeah,” Luke said softly. “He would’ve.”
Eli blew out a breath, forcing another grin. “Anyway, we’re gonna own this year. You and me. Senior royalty.”
Luke snorted. “Right. Because we’re definitely the royalty type.”
“A couple of homos? Of course we are,” Eli said. “We’re gonna be prom kings.”
“Nobody would vote for us.”
“I would!”
By the time they pulled into the school parking lot, the nervous energy in the air was thick enough to choke on. Everyone was back—hugging, shouting, showing off new haircuts. Luke felt a strange mixture of belonging and distance, like he was watching from underwater. They checked their schedules near the entrance. Eli’s face fell almost immediately.
“Dude. We have literally no classes together.”
Luke frowned. “None?”
“Well, apart from gym on Thursday.”
“That’s something at least,” Luke said in relief. “It’s like Sophomore year all over again.”
“Yeah,” Eli sighed dramatically, stuffing the paper into his pocket. “Guess I’ll just rot in AP Calculus alone. Pray for me.”
“You’ll survive,” Luke said, giving him a half-hearted hug and a small grin before heading down the hall to his own first class.
English. First period. His favourite subject, though it didn’t feel like it right now. He slipped into the classroom early and picked a random seat near the middle. Close enough to seem sociable, far enough to not be noticed.
The teacher, a middle-aged woman with a coffee mug that said World’s Best Overthinker, clapped her hands together. “Welcome to senior year, everyone! Big year. Big reading list. Big dreams.”
Luke smiled faintly, trying to let himself feel that excitement.
Maybe this year could be better. Maybe.
Then the door opened, and a boy he didn’t recognise stepped in. He was tall and tan, with messy dark hair and a slightly unsure smile. He had that new kid aura. His backpack straps were gripped too tight and his eyes were darting around like he was trying to memorise the room.
“Oh! Everyone, this is Noah Lowthorp,” the teacher announced. “He’s new to our school, so let’s make him feel welcome.”
A chorus of polite murmurs followed.
Then she turned to Luke. “Luke! You’re always so dependable. Why don’t you be Noah’s guide for the day? Help him get around, introduce him to people?”
Luke froze mid-blink. Internally, he screamed. Outwardly, he smiled. “Of course. I’d love to.”
He could already hear Eli’s teasing voice in his head—Teacher’s pet behaviour, Lukey.
Noah walked over and took the seat next to him. “Hey,” he said, voice easy and warm.
“Hey,” Luke replied, offering a tight smile. “I’m Luke.”
“I kinda figured,” Noah said with a grin tugging at his lips.
“Oh, shit,” Luke mumbled. “Yeah. Duh.”
“So, uh… why’d you get picked for this?” Noah asked, half teasing. “Do you do this a lot or something?”
Luke sighed quietly, tapping his pen against the desk. “No. Not really. I think it’s just because I’m apparently on track to be valedictorian this year.”
Noah raised his brows, impressed. “Oh, so you’re like the golden boy, huh?”
Luke scoffed under his breath, yet a part of him absolutely loved the fact that Noah had called him a boy without even flinching. The fact that Noah was a stranger worked well in Luke’s favour because he didn’t know Luke’s past or baggage. Right now, Luke was just an average BOY. “More like the golden teacher’s pet. Every teacher here loves me. It’s a curse.”
Noah laughed softly. “Could be worse.”
“So, who the hell moves to a brand new school in their senior year anyway?”
Noah laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, its not ideal. My dad’s actually the new principal this year. He got hired over the summer, and… well, I didn’t really get a choice.”
Luke let out a low whistle. “Damn. That explains why you don’t look nervous. You’re basically royalty now.”
“Royalty?” Noah grimaced. “More like the kid everyone’s gonna hate when they realise my dad runs the place.”
“Fair point,” Luke said. “Guess I’ll have to teach you how to blend in before they figure it out. I’ve been known to stick to the shadows.”
Noah shot him a look that was half amused, half grateful. They spent the rest of English talking quietly in the back. Luke filling him in on which teachers were chill and which ones would ruin your life, while Noah told him about his old school and how small it was compared to this one. There was something easy about talking to him; the conversation didn’t feel forced, not even when Luke teased him or rolled his eyes at his corny jokes.
By the time lunch rolled around, it felt weirdly natural that they sat together at one of the long tables by the window. Luke wasn’t exactly the “make new friends” type, but Noah had this calm energy that made it hard to stay closed off.
Halfway through their sandwiches, Eli appeared with his messy hair tucked under a beanie, his hoodie halfway zipped, and a wide grin. Well, until he saw a random new kid sitting next to Luke. “Uh, hi?” Eli said, sliding onto the bench opposite them. “Who’s this?”
“Eli, this is Noah. Noah, this is my best friend Eli,” Luke said, stabbing a fry with his fork. “Noah is the new kid. He’s also my assigned buddy.”
“Cool,” Eli said, giving Noah a curious look. “Welcome to hell.”
“Thanks,” Noah said. “Everyone keeps saying that, I’m starting to think it’s true.”
“Nah, it’s not that bad,” Luke said. “You just have to find your people. Like, there’s the music kids, the theatre freaks, the stoners behind the gym, the jocks and cheerleaders, and then there’s us.”
Eli nodded. “Yeah, we kind of float. You’ll see us at the GSA meetings too, if you’re into that.”
Noah blinked. “GSA?”
“Gay-Straight Alliance,” Eli explained bravely, taking a sip of his drink.
“Oh,” Noah said quickly, sitting up a little straighter. “Uh, I mean, I’m straight, but—”
Eli immediately cut in sharply. “That’s what the S is for, asshole. Don’t go having a stroke.”
Luke nearly choked on his water. “Eli, cool it.”
“What? I’m just saying,” Eli mumbled.
Noah’s ears went red. “Right. Okay. Good to know.”
Eli went back to grinning instantly. “Relax. No one’s gonna quiz you on your sexuality. It’s just a chill group. We talk, hang out, plan events. Sometimes it’s just an excuse to get free pizza.”
“Free pizza sounds good,” Noah said, trying to play it cool but still looking a little flustered.
Luke smirked at him. “Don’t worry. Eli just likes messing with people.”
Eli pointed at him with his straw. “Only people who take themselves too seriously.”
Noah shook his head, smiling despite himself. Luke could tell already that he liked this kid. Not in the crush way (he was done with that nonsense for now), but in the you’re going to fit in here kind of way. Maybe senior year wouldn’t be as unbearable as he’d imagined with not only one friend by his side, but two.
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