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September 2016
It was currently the kind of crisp morning where the air still held onto summer’s warmth but whispered that autumn was coming. The college campus of Harvard was a blur of movement. Cars were pulling up to curbs, parents were unloading boxes, freshmen were shouting across the lawn, and the faint sound of laughter carried on the breeze.
Luke followed a few steps behind his parents, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his black hoodie, watching as Gabe and Dad hoisted yet another box from the trunk. Mom was fussing over the checklist she’d printed out three times “just to be sure,” and Gabe looked two seconds away from losing it.
“Mom, I don’t need three sets of bedsheets,” Gabe groaned. “They have laundry here, you know.”
“You’ll thank me when you spill Gatorade all over your first set,” she replied briskly, already fluffing the pillow she’d brought from home.
Luke snorted under his breath. Gabe threw him a warning glare that said don’t start. But Luke wasn’t really paying attention to Gabe. Not entirely.
Just outside the room in the hallway, Young’s family was in chaos too. Mr. Wi was hauling a mini-fridge up the dorm stairs, muttering something under his breath, while Mrs. Wi stood beside an open box filled with neatly labelled containers, speaking rapid Korean that sounded sharp enough to cut glass.
“Eomma, please. It’s fine,” Young was saying, hands out in front of him. “Gwaenchanh-ayo.”
“I told you to wrap the cups separately, Youngjae!” she fired back, glaring at him as she gestured toward a shattered mug at the bottom of the box. “You don’t listen! Always in a hurry!”
“I did wrap them!” Young protested, but it was useless. His mom was already pulling out bubble wrap like it was a weapon.
Luke had never seen Young look so helpless. Yeah, he was all handsome, tall and broad-shouldered, but he was completely defeated by a five-foot-tall woman with a commanding voice. Mrs. Wi switched to English mid-rant, likely for the benefit of everyone else in the hall. “You should take care of your things better, Youngjae! You’re not a child anymore.”
“Alasseo, Eomma,” Young said through gritted teeth, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Youngjae,” she continued in Korean this time, her tone softer but still exasperated. Luke couldn’t catch every word of what she was saying, but he heard study, focus, Harvard, future.
Young mumbled something in response that made her sigh heavily before switching back to packing his dresser drawers.
Luke lingered near the doorframe of Gabe and Young’s shared dorm room, pretending to scroll through his phone, though his eyes kept drifting over to them. There was something oddly comforting about seeing Young with his family here. It was nice seeing him as just another kid with parents who nagged too much and expectations that hung heavy in the air. It broke that whole ‘wow the co captain can do no wrong’ image that he had in his head.
“Luke,” his mom called, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Can you go and give Gabe a hand with the bedding?”
“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, even though Gabe immediately said, “I don’t need help.”
“Yes, you do,” Mom said in that final, motherly tone that meant don’t argue.
Luke trudged over, grabbing the folded comforter from the box. “You know, if you stopped trying to impress Maddy all the time, maybe you’d actually have time to do this yourself.”
Gabe groaned. “Can you not?”
“Just saying,” Luke said with a smirk.
“She’s already texting me saying how depressed she is, dude,” Gabe said.
“Being a million miles away will do that to you,” Luke shrugged.
“God, don’t remind me. She keeps badgering me about this whole long distance thing but I don’t know if I can commit to it, ya know?”
“Why the hell not?”
“Come on, Luke. Think about it. Use your big brain.”
Luke stared at him blankly.
Gabe sighed. “New college. New chicks. Ringing any bells?”
“You’re disgusting,” Luke said monotonously. “This is why men ain’t shit.”
“Is that why you wanted to be one so badly?” Gabe shot back.
“Unfortunately,” Luke deadpanned.
As Luke set the comforter down on the bed, he caught a glimpse of Young again. His mom was still fussing (now about where to put the desk lamp) while his dad laughed quietly in the corner. Young met Luke’s eyes for half a second before quickly looking away, pretending to be busy arranging his books.
It had been months since that night at prom. Months since that innocent little kiss on the cheek. And even now, Luke could feel it—the awkward pull in his stomach, the flicker of something that hadn’t gone away. He tore his gaze away and busied himself with smoothing the bedsheets that didn’t need smoothing.
“Hey,” Dad said after a while, stepping back from Gabe’s dresser. “You three should take a picture together before we go. You guys basically grew up side by side.”
Luke nearly choked. “What? Why do I have to join them?”
“Because it’s a nice memory,” Mom said, already pulling out her phone.
“Yeah, come on, squirt,” Gabe added with a grin. “Get in the frame with me and Young. For old times’ sake.”
“Young and I,” Luke corrected.
Across the room, Young froze mid-sentence. “What?”
Luke clamped his mouth shut.
Mrs. Wi clapped her hands together, instantly delighted. “Yes! Sajin! Good idea!”
Before any of the boys could protest, both families were shoving them together, positioning them near the dorm window. Luke awkwardly crossed his arms across his chest while the older two boys positioned themselves on either side of him. Young tried to smile like he wasn’t dying inside.
“Closer!” Mrs. Wi ordered, motioning with her hands. “You’re friends!”
Luke muttered under his breath, “That’s debatable.”
Young’s lips twitched like he’d heard him.
When the photo was finally taken, both boys practically leapt apart, mumbling polite words as their parents cooed over how grown-up they all looked.
As the adults continued to chat, Luke found himself by the hallway window, watching students come and go. A crisp breeze swept in from the open pane, carrying with it that familiar smell of campus. He didn’t know why his chest felt so tight. Maybe it was the thought of Gabe leaving, or maybe it was seeing Young standing in the dorm room, looking right at home and so far away all at once.
When the last box was unpacked and both mothers had finally agreed that the dorm looked “cozy enough for two boys,” the talk turned to coffee.
Mrs. Wi was the first to suggest it, already checking her watch. “We’ll need something strong for the drive back,” she said, smoothing her son’s collar one last time. “There’s that café across the street. Come on, everyone.”
Luke’s mom instantly agreed, pulling her coat tighter around her. “Good idea. Boys, do you want to come with us?”
But Gabe’s phone was already buzzing in his pocket. He glanced at the screen and shook his head. “No, I’ll pass. It’s Maddy,” he said. “I’ll just take this outside.”
“Of course it is,” Luke muttered under his breath.
“Luke?” mom asked.
“Uh, nah,” he waved his hands dismissively. “I’ll wait here. I’m a little cold.”
“Suit yourself,” she nodded.
So just like that, Luke was left standing awkwardly by the window of Gabe and Young’s new dorm room while both sets of parents disappeared down the hallway, their voices and laughter fading. The door clicked shut behind them, and the silence that followed felt heavy.
Young was leaning against his desk, arms crossed, eyes flicking between the bed and the window. He looked every bit the polished college freshman—relaxed but restless, like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself now that the noise had gone.
Luke stood a few feet away, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, unsure whether to sit, stand, or just evaporate. The memory of the last time they’d been alone sat like static in the air between them.
“So,” Luke said finally, his voice a little too loud in the quiet. “Harvard, huh?”
Young glanced at him, smiling faintly. “Yeah. Harvard.”
“Big shot now.”
“Hardly,” Young said, chuckling. “You saw my mom. She’s acting like I’m six and about to go to summer camp.”
Luke laughed a little at that, the tension thinning just enough for him to move closer. “Yeah, she seemed pretty stressed.”
“She’s just worried,” Young said, his tone softening. “I’m her only kid. She’s never had to… you know, let go.”
Luke nodded, understanding more than he expected to. “You gonna miss them?”
Young hesitated. His gaze drifted toward the window, where sunlight cut across the desk and caught in his hair. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “Even when she’s yelling at me about bubble wrap.”
Luke smiled. “You kinda like it, though.”
Young shot him a sideways glance. “What, being yelled at?”
“No,” Luke said, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Being cared about.”
For a moment, the room went quiet again. Young’s expression shifted, his teasing fading into something softer. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I guess I do.”
Luke’s pulse ticked faster. He wasn’t sure when Young had moved closer, but suddenly they were standing only a few feet apart, the space between them charged and humming.
“You cut your hair,” Young said suddenly.
Luke blinked. “What?”
“Since prom,” Young clarified. “It’s shorter now.”
“Oh,” Luke murmured, fingers instinctively brushing the side of his neck. “Yeah. Mom said it makes me look older.”
“She’s right,” Young said, his voice lower now, quieter. “You do.”
Luke swallowed hard, unsure what to do with his hands, his body, or his breath. There was something in the way Young was looking at him. Not in the teasing way he usually did, but like he was remembering something. Luke tried to laugh it off. “Careful, you’re gonna make me think you’re flirting with me again.”
Young’s lips twitched. “Maybe I am.”
That froze Luke completely. For a second, he forgot how to move, how to breathe, how to exist. The warmth in his cheeks spread fast, and before he could come up with something smart to say, Young’s hand brushed against his. It was just a light touch, kinda hesitant, almost like he was testing if it was okay. Luke didn’t pull away. It was barely anything. The smallest, softest thing…but it was enough to send Luke’s heart thudding against his ribs. “This is new,” he murmured.
“It’s weird, right?” Young asked, just as quietly.
Luke’s eyes flickered up and he half shrugged. “Yeah, kinda. But also, I like it.”
“You do, huh? Pretty sure that’s the first real honest thing I’ve heard you say in a while.”
“You calling me a liar?” Luke cocked his eyebrows.
“No, I’m calling you deflective.”
“Excuse me?” Luke scoffed out a laugh.
“You tend to deflect when talking about things,” Young said matter of factly.
“Right. Didn’t realise I did that.”
“Maybe you should work on it so we can have more open and honest conversations,” Young said.
“You want me to be open and honest?”
“I do.”
“Okay, sure. Here’s something honest for you,” Luke gnawed on his lip. “This isn’t going anywhere no matter how much we may want it…is it?” he asked in a very quiet voice.
“What do you mean?”
“This,” Luke said, lifting up their joint hands. “Whatever the hell this is. You live all the way here whilst I’m still stuck at home. Hell, even Gabe is already thinking about other girls despite him being completely in love with Maddy.”
Young looked down at their hands and his face slowly morphed into one of understanding.
Luke smiled sadly. “Is that honest enough for you?”
Young looked at him then. “It never would have worked between us anyway.”
Luke tried not to flinch at that statement. “Why? Because you play lacrosse and I sit on the bleachers?”
“No,” Young said nonchalantly. “Because you’re way too cool for me.”
Luke flushed. “Shut up, moron.”
“I’m serious. You’re too smart for me too.”
“You think i’m smart?”
“Of course,” Young said honestly. “But I think sometimes, that mouth of yours gets you into trouble. You should avoid that.”
“What?” Luke frowned.
Young opened his mouth to reply when the door suddenly swung open. Their hands flew apart.
“Dude,” Gabe’s voice cut through the quiet. “Sorry, Maddy is obsessed.”
“She’s your girlfriend, Gabe,” Luke said quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets again and trying to act completely normal. “Of course she’s obsessed.”
Young stepped back, schooling his face into that easy grin. “She’s in love with you.”
Gabe nodded. “A little too much, if ya ask me. Anyway. Mom texted saying they’re grabbing some drinks for us. We should probably head down.”
“Right,” Young said, voice steady now.
As Gabe turned his back, Luke dared one more glance at Young. Their eyes met for just a heartbeat, long enough to remember what almost happened. Then Luke looked away, pretending to check his phone, while Young cleared his throat and bent to tie his shoes.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
By the time Luke and his parents pulled into the driveway of their home, the sun had already started to dip below the houses, throwing long orange light across the front lawn. The house looked exactly the same, with the same faded curtains and the same overgrown hedge Dad kept promising to trim, but it felt wrong. Too quiet. Too big.
Luke carried in one of the empty duffel bags from the car and dropped it by the stairs. His parents were already talking in low voices in the kitchen, trying to figure out dinner plans, but he didn’t join them. He just stood there in the hallway for a minute, listening to the silence.
It was weird without Gabe.
For the first time, Luke realised how much space his brother had taken up—his voice, his music, his stupid jokes yelled from down the hall. Even the faint smell of Gabe’s body spray still lingered in the air like a weird old ghost. Luke had always thought he was desperate to get his own space, to stop living in his brother’s shadow. But now that Gabe was gone, the emptiness didn’t feel like freedom. It felt like something was missing.
Still, there was one upside. Gabe had left his car behind. It was an old silver Honda that rattled like a tin can but still worked. Their parents had agreed that Luke could use it for school and errands, which meant no more waiting forty minutes for the bus every morning. It was independence, sort of.
After unpacking the few things he’d brought back from Boston, Luke flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. The quiet started to press on him again, so he grabbed his phone and called Eli.
Eli picked up after only two rings. “Hey, stranger.”
“Hey,” Luke said, smiling a little. “You busy?”
“Nah. Nate just left. We were working on his art project, but he had to get home before curfew.”
Luke raised a brow, even though Eli couldn’t see it. “An art project, huh?”
“Shut up,” Eli said, laughing. “We actually were working. Kind of.”
“Sure you were.” They both laughed, and the sound loosened something in Luke’s chest. “So,” Luke said after a moment, rolling onto his side. “Things still good with you guys?”
Eli hesitated for a second, then sighed softly. “Yeah. Really good. It’s still a secret, though. Nate’s not ready for people at school to know. I get it, but it’s… hard sometimes.”
Luke hummed quietly. “Yeah. I get that.”
Eli was silent for a beat, then asked, “How was the move-in? Survive saying goodbye to Gabe?”
“Barely,” Luke admitted, smiling faintly. “House feels empty already. I didn’t realise how much I… I don’t know. Depended on him.”
“That’s normal,” Eli said gently. “You two are close.”
Luke nodded even though Eli couldn’t see. “Yeah.” He hesitated. “Something else happened, though. Something…weird.”
“Weird how?”
Luke bit his lip. He hadn’t told anyone (not even his own reflection) what happened in that dorm room or at prom, or any of the awkward time before that. “With Youngjae,” he said finally. “It’s nothing bad, just… I don’t know. It’s confusing.”
Eli immediately perked up. “Confusing how? Like, he said something? Did something? Was he a transphobic asshole again?”
Luke groaned, covering his face with a pillow. “No. No, nothing like that. The opposite actually.”
“Huh??”
“Fuck. He kissed me,” Luke mumbled. “On the cheek. But it was—I don’t know, it felt like… more than that.”
There was a long pause on the other end. Then Eli, carefully: “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Luke muttered. “Oh.”
“Did you… like it?”
“I don’t know,” Luke said honestly. “I mean, yeah, I guess. But he’s gone now. He’s at Harvard with Gabe. We’re probably not gonna see each other for a really long time, so there’s no point in—” He cut himself off, sighing. “No point in dwelling on it.”
Eli was quiet for a while. Then, softly he said, “You are dwelling on it, though.”
Luke let out a small laugh. “Yeah. Maybe a little.”
“Just don’t overthink it, okay? Sometimes things happen and you don’t have to label them right away.”
Luke smiled faintly. “You sound like a therapist.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
They talked for a while longer; about Nate, about junior year starting soon, about whether the GSA would finally get their own bulletin board. Until Eli started yawning and said he needed to get some sleep. When the call ended, Luke lay there in the dark, phone still warm in his hand. The house creaked around him, familiar and lonely.
He told himself again that there was no point thinking about Young.
But the truth was, he hadn’t stopped.
God, how the hell was it fair that the dumb lacrosse jock could be an asshole for a whole year and then drop a bombshell that he had a CRUSH on Lola. And now all of a sudden, Luke is hooked like some pathetic shadow? Was this some kind of sick revenge? Was Young only doing this to get back at Luke for being a dick about the whole trans comment thing? God, this was awful. Luke hated it.
He lay there in the dark for a long time after hanging up with Eli. The quiet was thick, almost humming, like it was waiting for him to do something. He stared at the ceiling until his phone screen dimmed, then he turned it back on again, scrolling mindlessly, checking the time, opening and closing apps.
10:45pm.
He knew it was stupid. He knew it was impulsive. But the thought wouldn’t leave him alone. That look on Youngjae’s face in the dorm room—the small smile, the softness in his eyes before he’d said goodbye. Luke couldn’t stop replaying it. Couldn’t stop wondering what it meant.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he opened his contacts and tapped on Young’s name.
The dial tone buzzed once. Twice. Three times. Luke’s heart thudded painfully in his chest.
Then: “Hello?”
Luke froze. “Uh, hey.”
“Luke?” Young sounded surprised. Then, after a second, amused. “You’re calling me now?”
“Yeah,” Luke said, immediately regretting it. “I, uh, probably shouldn’t have. You’re busy, right?”
“Not really,” Young said. “We just finished team dinner. Everyone’s passed out or gaming or something.” A pause. “Is everything okay?”
Luke sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. I just… needed to talk to you, I guess.”
Young hummed softly. “Okay. Talk to me.”
Luke exhaled, trying to steady himself. “About… that night.”
Silence stretched between them. Then Young’s voice, quieter now. “I was wondering when you’d bring that up.”
“I just—” Luke hesitated. “I don’t know what that was, Youngjae. The dance, and then the—” He stopped himself. “You kissed me.”
“On the cheek,” Young said.
“It’s still a kiss,” Luke frowned.
“I know.”
“So what was that? Like, what did it mean?”
There was a soft rustle on the other end—maybe Young shifting on his bed, maybe running a hand through his hair like he always did when he was nervous. “Luke, I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” he admitted. “And I think maybe I let things get confusing. I didn’t mean to make you feel weird.”
“Weird?” Luke repeated. “You didn’t make me feel weird.”
“I just mean—” Young sighed, his voice careful now. “You mean a lot to me. You always have.”
Luke’s heart dropped. “But…?”
Young sighed. “But… I think we should just stay as we are. Friends. Or whatever this is.”
Luke’s grip on his phone tightened. “Why?”
“Because like you said earlier, I’m over here at Harvard,” Young said. “And you’re there. And I’m not gonna be back for a few years. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. I mean, you’re only a junior yet. You might meet somebody else, someone who’s actually there for you.”
“It’s not a big deal that I’m a junior,” Luke said quickly.
Young was quiet.
“It’s only 2 years,” Luke added.
Youngjae sighed on the other end. “I know. In the grand scheme of things, it’s barely anything. But still…You’re 16. You might meet somebody else. Somebody your age. Somebody who is there for you.”
Luke blinked, stunned. “So, that’s it?”
“Well, I—”
“You kiss me and then tell me to forget about it?”
“There’s not much else we can do.”
Luke wanted to scream YES THERE IS. They could have talked about it more. They could have agreed that the kiss, the dance and those goddamn looks meant something. But of course, this life hated Luke and everyone always let him down.
“Luke, i’m sorry. I just think that we—”
“No, it’s fine,” Luke cut in, his voice suddenly sharp. “I get it. You don’t have to do the whole gentle rejection thing to make me feel better. You don’t have to make it sound nice.”
“It’s not a rejection,” Young said quickly. “I’m just trying to be realistic.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Luke’s throat tightened. “Forget I even called.”
“Luke, wait—”
But he’d already hung up.
For a second, he just sat there, staring at the dark reflection of himself in his phone screen. Then he tossed it aside and flopped back on the bed, pressing the heel of his hand against his eyes. He told himself it didn’t matter. He told himself it wasn’t like they were anything anyway. That Young was just his brothers dumb, annoying best friend who crashed at their house more often than not. That Young was just an asshole who had dropped a bombshell on poor Luke and then disappeared to another state.
But the ache in his chest said otherwise. He’d thought calling would give him closure. Instead, it just made everything worse.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
The following days crawled by, heavy and slow, like wading through water.
Luke started his junior year. He did his homework. He laughed when Eli said something funny and nodded when teachers called his name, but it was all mechanical. None of it actually stuck.
It wasn’t even that he was heartbroken—at least, that’s what he kept telling himself. He just felt… hollow. Like he’d been holding on to something invisible, something that had kept him steady without him realising, and now it was gone.
Youngjae was gone.
Every time his phone buzzed, his stomach did that hopeful lurch, only for it to be nothing. A group text. A reminder. A random app notification. Never him. He hated how pathetic that made him feel. Eli noticed, of course. He always did.
“You’ve been quiet lately,” Eli said one afternoon at lunch, sipping from a carton of chocolate milk.
“I’m always quiet,” Luke muttered, poking at his fries.
“Yeah, but this is, like, moody quiet. Not normal Luke quiet.” Eli leaned forward, squinting at him. “Did something happen? With your family? Or school? Or—” He stopped mid-sentence, his expression softening. “Is this about Youngjae?”
Luke’s head snapped up. “What?”
Eli raised his eyebrows. “Dude, you literally told me something weird happened between you two.”
Luke looked away, face burning. “It’s nothing.”
Eli gave him a look that screamed liar. “You sure?”
“I said it’s nothing, Eli.”
Eli sighed but didn’t push. He was good like that. He knew when to stop asking. Still, Luke could feel his friend watching him, worry written all over his face.
After school, Luke drove home in silence. Gabe’s old car smelled faintly like his brother’s cologne, and the passenger seat was still littered with old lacrosse tape and empty sports drink bottles. It made Luke ache in a weird, quiet way. He sat in the driveway for a long time after parking, staring at his hands on the steering wheel.
He thought about the night of prom. The classroom. The dance. The warmth of Young’s hand at the small of his back. The way his name had sounded in Young’s voice. He thought about how quickly it had all dissolved into static after that.
By the end of the week, Luke had managed to shove it all into a box somewhere deep inside himself. When people mentioned his lacrosse star brother Gabe or the co-captain from the previous year Young, he shrugged. When Gabe called and talked about Harvard and lacrosse and dorm life, he smiled and said that’s awesome.
He convinced himself he was fine. He had to be.
But every night, lying in bed with the glow of his phone screen lighting his face, his fingers hovered over Youngjae’s name…But he never pressed call.
Luke was sprawled across his bed, half-buried under a pile of hoodies, sketching something aimlessly in his notebook when his door creaked open.
“Luke,” Eli whispered loudly, then stumbled inside before Luke could even answer. His hair was slightly messed up and he smelled faintly of deodorant and excitement—always a bad combo.
Luke frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting you off your ass.” Eli grinned and threw himself onto the edge of the bed, bouncing a little. “Come on. We’re going out.”
“It’s Friday,” Luke said flatly.
“Exactly.”
Luke blinked. “That’s not an answer.”
Eli groaned dramatically and grabbed one of Luke’s pillows, whacking him with it. “Get up. Nate’s waiting in the car.”
Luke shoved the pillow off his chest. “Why is Nate waiting in the car?”
“Because we’re going to a party,” Eli said, eyes sparkling like this was the best idea he’d ever had. “It’s being hosted by one of the seniors. There’s gonna be drinks, music, possibly regrettable decisions. Basically, everything a junior year Friday night should be.”
Luke’s eyebrows shot up. “A party?”
“Yes, Luke. A party. You know, the thing normal people go to instead of sitting in their rooms drawing sad trees?”
Luke looked down at his sketchpad where, sure enough, he’d been doodling a pretty depressing forest. “…I like my sad trees.”
Eli rolled his eyes. “And your sad trees will still be here tomorrow. Come on. We need to do something stupid before adulthood crushes us.”
Luke hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “You know I’m not really the—”
“Party type? Social type? Fun type?” Eli interrupted, counting each on his fingers. “Yeah, yeah. Heard it all before. But you’re coming anyway.”
“Eli—”
“Please?” Eli clasped his hands together, full puppy-dog eyes. “You never come to stuff. Ever. It’s one night. Just come, have a drink, make fun of people with me. We’ll leave if it sucks.. God, don’t you remember our first ever party together? It was fucking awesome! Your brother got into that huge fight and we had to carry him home? God, it was sick. Please please pleaaaase?”
Luke sighed and flopped back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. “You’re relentless.”
“I’m your best friend. It’s my job.”
Luke stared at the ceiling for a few seconds longer, debating with himself, before groaning. “Fine. But I swear to God, if it’s one of those parties where everyone plays beer pong and pretends they’re in a frat, I’m leaving.”
Eli grinned, victorious. “Deal. Now get dressed. Something not depressing.”
Luke glanced down at his oversized hoodie and sweatpants. “Define ‘not depressing.'”
Eli grabbed a random jacket from Luke’s chair and threw it at him. “That’ll do. Move it, Davies. Nate’s getting angtsy.”
As Luke tugged on his shoes, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes, but under the faint irritation, there was something else. A tiny, reluctant spark of curiosity. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe.
He followed Eli out into the night, the chill air biting at his cheeks as Nate’s car headlights flashed down the street. Music thumped faintly from inside the car, and Luke sighed as Eli pushed him playfully toward it.
“Let’s get wasted,” Eli said, grinning like a maniac.
Luke shook his head. “If I wake up with a hangover, I’m blaming you.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Nate leaned over from the driver’s seat as Luke climbed into the back. “Hey, man,” he said with an easy smile, the kind that made it impossible to dislike him even if you wanted to.
“Hey, Nate,” Luke said, offering a small wave before buckling in.
Nate glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Eli didn’t exactly give me a choice in this kidnapping so I apologise in advance.”
Eli, already settling into the passenger seat, grinned. “You love it.”
Nate snorted, throwing the car into gear. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go corrupt the quiet kid.”
“Not happening,” Luke muttered, slouching in his seat as they pulled away from the curb.
The drive wasn’t long (fifteen minutes, maybe) but it was filled with the kind of reckless energy only teenagers could generate. The windows were down, wind whipping through Eli’s hair as he sang loudly and off-key to whatever was playing on Nate’s playlist. Luke half-smiled despite himself, the city lights streaking past in a blur of gold and blue.
When they finally turned onto a street lined with parked cars, Luke’s stomach sank. The house at the end of the road was glowing—music pulsing, people spilling onto the porch, laughter echoing down the block.
“Holy shit,” he mumbled. “This is bigger than I thought.”
“Relax,” Eli said, slapping his knee as they got out. “I won’t leave your sight. Promise.”
“Yeah, until you see Nate doing something stupid and run off to rescue him.”
“Rude,” Nate said, locking the car. “I’m on my best behavior tonight.”
Luke raised an eyebrow.
Inside, the house was already packed. The air was thick with the smell of cheap booze, perfume, and too many bodies in too small a space. Coloured lights flashed across the walls, and someone had already started a game of beer pong in the corner.
“This is a lot,” Luke said, voice nearly drowned out by the bass.
Eli grinned, holding up three red cups like a magician revealing a trick. “Here. Liquid courage.”
Luke sniffed the drink cautiously. “This smells like battery acid.”
“Exactly.” Eli clinked his cup against Luke’s and took a long sip. “That’s how you know it’s authentic.”
Nate laughed and threw an arm around Eli’s shoulders, steering them toward the living room. “Come on. Let’s say hi before Luke decides to make a run for it.”
They wove through the crowd, greeting a few familiar faces from school—some from their classes, others from the GSA. To Luke’s surprise, nobody stared. Nobody whispered.
A few months ago, the idea of showing up to a party like this would’ve made him want to crawl out of his own skin. But things had changed, slowly and quietly. As the school year went on, people had stopped whispering about him. The rumours died down, replaced by whatever new drama was trending that week. Someone got suspended. Someone cheated. Someone broke up. And just like that, Luke was no longer the “trans kid.”
He was just Luke.
The thought still felt weird sometimes, like trying on clothes that didn’t quite fit yet, but he couldn’t deny the relief that came with it. Now, as Eli handed him another drink and Nate started an enthusiastic debate with someone from the basketball team, Luke found himself… almost comfortable. He took a small sip, wincing at the burn, and leaned against the wall, watching Eli laugh in the flashing light. For once, he didn’t feel like a ghost in his own life. He just felt like a boy at a party.
The night stretched on, the music getting louder, the air heavier, the crowd blurrier. Luke lost track of how many drinks Eli had handed him, or maybe how many he’d grabbed on his own. At some point, someone had turned off the main lights, leaving only the shifting glow of the LED strips pulsing along the ceiling. Everything felt slightly unreal, like he was moving through water.
Eli was still keeping close, laughing with Nate and a few of their GSA friends, but Luke was drifting a little, floating through the room in slow, dizzy waves. He found himself by the kitchen counter, blinking at a lineup of shot glasses that smelled like pure regret. A guy he vaguely recognised leaned against the counter beside him. He was tall, broad-shouldered and probably a senior. His dark hair was pushed back, his smile lazy.
“Luke Davies, right?” the guy said, pouring another shot and sliding it toward him.
Luke squinted. “Yeah. Uh, have we met?”
“Not officially,” the guy said. “I’m Spencer. I was on the lacrosse team with Gabe.”
Luke perked up at the name, even as his head swayed a little. “You know my brother?”
“Yeah, man. He’s a legend.” Spencer grinned and raised his glass. “Didn’t think I’d see his little brother here, though. You used to come to some of our games, right?”
Luke laughed softly. “More like all of them. Mostly because my parents forced me to.”
Spencer chuckled. “That blows. Gabe always said you were cooler than him anyway.”
Luke snorted. “He said that?”
“Yup. Said you were the funny one.”
“Guess that makes him the liar.”
Spencer laughed, then tapped his shot glass against Luke’s. “To being cooler than your siblings.”
Luke hesitated, then downed it. It burned like fire, but the warmth that spread through his chest felt good. Comforting in the worst way. Another glass appeared. Then another. He didn’t even remember who poured them anymore. All he knew was that his stomach was light and his cheeks hurt from smiling too much. Spencer was saying something, something about Gabe’s first game and how they trashed Riverton High, but Luke wasn’t really listening anymore. His brain was fuzzy, full of static, but he kept nodding, laughing at the right moments.
“Man, Gabe’s gonna lose his mind when he finds out you can actually handle your liquor,” Spencer said, smirking.
Luke grinned dizzily. “You think this is me handling it? I feel like I’m on a cloud!”
They both laughed, the sound loud and slurred and too bright. Somewhere across the room, Eli caught Luke’s eye and mouthed you good? Luke gave him a thumbs-up he didn’t quite feel. Everything was spinning just slightly off-center. Someone bumped into him, and Spencer steadied him by the arm, his grip firm but not rough.
“You okay?” Spencer asked.
Luke nodded, even though his vision swayed. “Yeah. Totally. Just, uh… gravity.”
“Gravity’s a bitch,” Spencer agreed, grinning.
Luke laughed again, falling back against the counter. He wasn’t thinking about what tomorrow would feel like, or what anyone would say, or how much he’d regret this. Right now, he was just another kid at a party, drunk and dizzy, with a senior telling him stories about his brother.
Luke was still at the kitchen counter when Eli appeared again half an hour later, cutting through the noise like a lifeline. His eyes were wide and worried. “Luke,” he said, voice sharp but quiet enough not to draw attention. “You’re done. You’ve had enough.”
Luke blinked up at him, grinning crookedly. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Eli said, stepping closer. “You can barely stand straight. Let’s just go home, okay? Nate’s outside and we’ll get you some water, and—”
“Eli,” Luke groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “You’re such a mom sometimes.”
Eli folded his arms, unimpressed. “You’ll thank me when you’re not puking all over yourself in thirty minutes.”
“I’m fine,” Luke insisted, but the words slurred at the edges. He swayed slightly where he stood, and Spencer reached out, steadying him again with a hand on his arm.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got him,” Spencer said easily, his voice low and smooth. “We’re just talking. He’s good.”
Eli’s eyes flicked to Spencer, and something about the guy’s casual confidence made his jaw tighten. “He doesn’t look good,” Eli said flatly. “Luke, come on. Let’s go.”
Luke exhaled heavily, annoyed. “You don’t have to babysit me, Eli. Seriously. I’m hanging out with Spencer. We’re fine.” Eli opened his mouth to argue, but Luke had already turned toward Spencer, forcing a grin. “Hey, can you show me where the bathroom is?”
Spencer’s smirk widened. “Sure thing. Upstairs.”
Eli’s hand shot out to grab Luke’s sleeve. “Luke. Don’t.”
Luke pulled away, frustration bubbling under the alcohol fuzz. “Eli, stop acting like my brother. I can take care of myself. Just go have fun with your secret boyfriend.”
Eli’s face dropped, his eyes flickering to Spencer to see whether the senior had caught on.
“Oops,” Luke flushed, “my bad.”
Luke barely noticed Eli’s defeated sigh as he followed Spencer through the crowded hallway and up the narrow stairs, ignoring the worried look Nate shot from across the room.
Upstairs, the noise dulled to a muffled bassline beneath their feet. The hallway lights flickered dimly, and the smell of cheap perfume and stale beer hung in the air. Spencer led him to a half-open door, pushing it wider with his shoulder.
“This one’s empty,” Spencer said, voice lower now. “You okay?”
Luke nodded unsteadily. “Yeah. Just… dizzy.” He leaned against the wall, laughing softly. His head was swimming, but in a weirdly pleasant way.
Spencer stood a little too close, his hand brushing Luke’s arm. “You’re pretty funny,” he said, his tone different now.
Luke blinked at him. “Huh?”
Spencer smiled lazily. “Didn’t think Gabe’s little brother would be this cute.”
Luke’s face heated, his drunken brain struggling to catch up. “You think I’m cute?”
Spencer nodded, stepping closer until the space between them was barely a breath. “Yeah. Always kinda wondered…” His hand drifted toward Luke’s waist. “…what you’d be like up close.”
Luke froze. His pulse stuttered. The warmth of the alcohol mixed with something else now—confusion, disbelief, the faint thrum of excitement that maybe, maybe someone actually liked him. Spencer leaned in, and Luke didn’t move. The guy’s breath was hot against his cheek, the smell of liquor heavy and sour.
Then Spencer murmured, his voice low and slurred: “I’ve always kinda been curious to know what’s under the trans kid’s clothes, y’know?”
The words sliced through the haze like ice water. Luke blinked, his stomach twisting violently. For a second, he thought he’d misheard, but Spencer was still smirking, eyes glassy and predatory. Something in Luke snapped. His throat burned and before he could stop it, his body lurched forward. The taste of bile hit his tongue, and he threw up…right across Spencer’s chest and down his shoes.
“Jesus—!” Spencer stumbled back, cursing loudly as the mess hit him.
Luke wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, trembling, disgust and shame and fury colliding all at once. “You’re disgusting,” he spat, voice shaking.
Spencer swore again, backing toward the bathroom door, his expression morphing from shock to irritation. “Fucking, hell. Gross! What the fuck is your problem!?”
“Don’t talk to me!” Luke snapped. He shoved past him, stumbling into the hallway, heart hammering. His vision was blurry, his chest tight, and the world was spinning again, but not from the alcohol this time. He just needed out.
He half-ran, half-staggered down the stairs, pushing through the crowd, ignoring the confused looks. The music was deafening again, the lights stabbing at his eyes. Somewhere, Eli’s voice was calling his name, but Luke didn’t stop. He shoved through the front door into the cool night air, gasping. The air hit him like a blessing after the suffocating press of bodies. He bent over, hands on his knees, breathing hard, fighting the urge to throw up again. He didn’t even know if it was from the drinks anymore, or from the shame clawing up his throat. All he knew was that Spencer’s words wouldn’t stop echoing in his head.
The trans kid.
That’s all he was, and that’s all he ever would be.
Luke wanted nothing more than to disappear.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve again, breath shuddering out of him. His throat burned, his stomach churned, and every inch of him felt filthy.
“Luke! Where are you?”
He flinched at the sound of Eli’s voice, all sharp and desperate.
“Over there!” Nate then called, and within seconds, Eli was kneeling in front of him, his face pale under the yellow glow of the streetlight.
“Oh my God, Luke,” Eli said, voice breathless. “Are you okay? What happened?”
Luke let out a strangled laugh that didn’t sound like him at all. “Fuck this!”
Eli blinked, startled. “What happened?”
“He tried to kiss me,” Luke blurted, voice cracking. “Spencer. He—he said—” His throat tightened, words clogging up like stones. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head hard. “Doesn’t matter.”
Nate’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “What did he do? Did he hurt you?”
“Nothing. No!” Luke snapped, too fast. “Just… nothing. It’s fine.”
Eli sat down beside him on the curb, ignoring the wet patch on the ground. “It doesn’t sound fine,” he said softly. “Luke, please, talk to us.”
Luke’s breath came uneven, his chest rising and falling too fast. For a second, he wanted to stay silent, to swallow it down like he always did, but something in him cracked. “He said he wanted to see what was under the trans kid’s clothes,” Luke whispered, voice hollow.
Eli went still. Nate swore under his breath.
Luke’s laugh came out bitter. “You know what’s funny? For a second, I thought he actually liked me. Like, for real. I thought maybe…I thought that maybe somebody finally saw me, you know? That I could finally have what you have. A normal relationship with a normal guy, but I can’t, can I? Because I’m not normal myself.” He shook his head. “God, I’m so stupid.”
“No, Luke,” Eli said as he reached for his arm.
Luke jerked away. “Don’t. Don’t try to make me feel better.”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are,” Luke snapped, his voice rising. “You always do that. You act like everything’s fixable. But it’s not, Eli. It’s not.”
Eli looked at him helplessly. “Luke…”
“I hate this,” Luke said, his voice cracking. “I hate being me. I hate walking into a room and wondering if people see me as Luke or as some experiment they can poke at. I hate that no matter how hard I try, I’ll never just be normal.” The words tumbled out faster and faster, the dam bursting open. “I hate my voice. I hate my face. I hate that I can’t go a single day without thinking about how I used to look. Everyone says it gets better but when? When does it actually start getting better? Because right now it just feels like I’m living someone else’s life and pretending it’s mine. I hate it, Eli. I hate it. And I hate me!”
Eli’s eyes glistened.
“Sometimes,” Luke said quietly, staring at the pavement, “I wonder if everyone’s life would’ve just been easier if I’d never transitioned. If I’d just stayed… stayed who I was before.”
The silence that followed was heavy. Nate crouched beside Eli, his voice low but steady. “Don’t say that,” he murmured. “Don’t you ever say that.”
Luke let out a weak laugh. “Why not? It’s true.”
“No, it’s not,” Eli said fiercely. “You’re not a burden, Luke. You’re my best friend. You’re—” His voice broke. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. You’ve been through so much, and you’re still here.”
Luke shook his head, tears spilling over. “I don’t feel strong.”
“You don’t have to feel it to be it,” Eli said. “Sometimes you just have to survive the night. That’s enough.”
“But I can’t,” Luke sobbed.
“You can,” Nate said firmly.
“Because you have us,” Eli added.
“And we’re always gonna be there for you,” Nate continued.
“Whether you like it or not,” Eli nodded.
For a moment, none of them spoke. The only sounds were the distant thud of the party and Luke’s uneven breaths. Then Nate stood and quietly shrugged off his jacket, draping it over Luke’s shoulders. “Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s get you home.”
Eli slid an arm under Luke’s, helping him to his feet. Luke leaned into him without fighting it this time, too drained to care. His eyes burned, his head pounded, but for once he didn’t try to hide it. As they walked toward Nate’s car, Eli whispered, “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”
Luke didn’t believe it, but for one small fragile moment, he let himself pretend he did.
Authors Note:
Okay so just to clarify something, I made a slight error in my book description/blurb so here is everyone’s actual ages.
Luke is 16 and is now a junior. So is Eli.
Nate is now a senior, he is 17.
Gabe and Young are both college freshmen and are both 18 years old.
Obvs Luke is 16 now and will soon be 17 sometime during his junior year.
That is all for now! 🙂
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