Chapter 65 Chapter Sixty-One
Alex’s point of view
I thought making it official would change something.
That was the logic I clung to, even as everything in me resisted it.
If Claire was my girlfriend, and not just someone I was seeing, not just a convenient distraction, then the doubts would quiet down.
The questions would stop circling.
The ‘thing’ I had with Demi would finally become part of my past instead of this constant presence haunting the edges of my day.
Labels usually had power.
Well that’s what people said and that’s what we were told to believe.
So I decided to use one.
It happened on a Thursday, ordinary enough that it felt almost insulting.
We were sitting on the bleachers after practice, the sky already dimming, the air cool enough to raise goosebumps on my arms.
Claire was talking about something her friend had done, it was something funny, something insignificant, and I just nodded along, only half-listening to what she was going on about.
I kept thinking about how Demi used to sit like this with me.
Not just on the bleachers, on the hood of my car, on my bed with our shoulders barely touching.
We were always close, always careful.
Claire bumped my shoulder lightly. "You're doing it again."
"Doing what?" I asked half interested.
"Leaving," she said. "You get this look like you're somewhere else."
Guilt flared hot and immediate because I knew she was right. "Sorry."
She studied me for a moment, then sighed. "Alex... what are we doing?"
The question made my heart stutter, I gulped and answered her.
"We're hanging out," I said. "I mean we’re dating and that’s what couples do."
She tilted her head. "Are we?"
The hesitation, that tiny pause before I answered, felt like a crack spreading.
"I want us to be," I said quickly. Too quickly. "I mean, I like you. A lot."
It wasn't a lie. Just... incomplete, half truth.
Her expression softened. "Awww really?, you know I like you too, a lot."
The silence that followed felt expectant, heavy.
"So," I said, forcing the words out, "do you want to be my girlfriend?"
The moment stretched.
Then she smiled. Bright. Genuine.
"Yeah," she said. "I do."
Relief hit me first.
Then panic.
I leaned in and kissed her, because that was what you did when moments were supposed to feel right.
Her lips were warm, they were familiar now.
People would see this.
People would understand this.
People would stop looking at me like something was unresolved.
That night, my mom smiled when I told her.
"That's nice," she said. "You seem happier than you were these past few days, I was beginning to worry."
I smiled back and hated how convincing it felt.
“Yeah I feel happy” I lied through my teeth.
“And I’m sure Demi would be the happiest for you, you no longer get to stay glued to his side, you have a new person to cling unto” she said laughing at herself as she walked away.
My heart skipped a beat at the mention of Demi, if only what she had said would be true.
.
.
.
At school the next day, the news traveled fast.
"Congrats, man," Kyle said, clapping me on the shoulder.
"You two are cute," Noah added before he winked at me “though I didn’t think that was your type” he added before he walked away, he was fast so I couldn’t get him to repeat what he said and to explain what he meant.
Claire held my hand openly now.
In hallways.
At lunch.
In front of everyone.
And I let her.
Across the room, Demi didn't look.
Not once.
That was how I knew it had finally worked.
He was done with me, I guess we’ll be back to friends.
And somehow, that realization didn't bring relief.
I felt somehow.
.
.
.
Days passed.
Then more days.
The weirdness between Demi and me didn't fade, it solidified into something rigid and permanent.
We acted polite towards each other.
We tried to be civil.
But we were still distant.
Our friends stopped asking what happened, they knew we were on bad terms and I’m happy they decided to let it go.
They didn't need to even ask anymore.
The answer was visible.
Alex has a girlfriend.
Demi feels replaced.
Except that wasn’t the case.
I started noticing the cracks in moments I couldn't explain away.
The way my chest tightened when Demi laughed with someone new.
The way my stomach dropped when I heard he might be transferring classes-which was rejected since we only had a few more weeks to go-.
The way I still reached for my phone late at night, thumb hovering over his name before I stopped myself.
Claire noticed too.
"You're quiet again," she said one evening as we walked back from a movie. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, no" I said immediately. "It's not you."
She stopped walking.
"That's not comforting," she said gently.
I looked at her, like really looked at her, and felt a wave of shame crash over me.
She deserved someone present.
Someone certain.
Someone who didn't carry another person's name like a secret bruise.
"I'm trying," I said instead.
She nodded, but her eyes searched my face, like she was reading something I hadn't said out loud.
I went home that night and lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling I'd memorized by now.
I'd wanted proof.
Proof that I didn't like men.
Proof that Demi had been a phase.
Proof that fear had been the only thing tying me to him.
I had my proof now.
A girlfriend.
Public affection.
A life that made sense to everyone else.
And still-
Still-
My heart ached in ways I didn't have words for.
I thought about Demi walking away that night, crying, while I stood frozen and confused.
I thought about the way he'd said he was trying to unlearn loving me.
I wondered if I ever would.
Maybe this was what denial looked like when it succeeded-not loud or dramatic, but quiet and convincing.
A life built carefully around the truth, never touching it directly.
I turned onto my side, pressing my hand against my chest, trying to understand the hollow ache that lived there now.
"I did the right thing," I whispered to the dark.
The dark didn't answer.