Chapter 48 FALL SEMESTER STARTS
Alex
The first day of senior year felt like walking into a firing squad.
Alex stood outside the literature building. Students streamed past. Some stared. Others whispered. A few pointed.
Everyone knew.
His phone buzzed. Elias.
Elias: You got this. Just get through today.
Alex: I want to go home
Elias: I know. But you can’t hide forever.
Alex: Watch me
Elias: Alex. You’re brave. You stood up to Carter. You can handle some stares.
Alex took a deep breath. The September air was crisp. Smelled like new textbooks and coffee from the campus café. Normal smells. Normal day.
Except nothing was normal anymore.
He walked into the building. Heads turned. Conversations stopped. Then started again in whispers.
His first class was Contemporary American Literature. Professor Hartley’s section.
She was already there when he arrived. Smiled at him like everything was fine. Like the whole internet hadn’t spent the last week debating his relationship.
“Alex. Good to see you. Front row has a seat.”
He sat. Pulled out his notebook. Tried to ignore the eyes on his back.
The girl next to him leaned over. “Are you okay? I saw what people were saying online. It’s so messed up.”
“I’m fine.”
“For what it’s worth, I think people need to mind their business. You’re both adults.”
“Thanks.”
Class started. Professor Hartley talked about the syllabus. Reading list. Assignments. Normal first-day stuff.
Alex tried to focus. Failed. His mind kept wandering to Elias at work. Whether people were whispering about him too.
After class, Professor Hartley called him back.
“How are you really doing?” she asked when everyone else had left.
“Honestly? Terrible.”
“I’m sorry this happened. None of it was fair to either of you.”
“People think he took advantage of me.”
“I know. But the people who matter know the truth. Your friends. Your family. Me. That has to be enough.”
“What if it’s not?”
“Then you keep going anyway. You don’t give them the satisfaction of breaking you.”
Alex’s next class was creative writing. Smaller section. Twelve students in a seminar room.
Everyone went silent when he walked in.
The professor introduced herself. Had them go around sharing their names and what they liked to write.
When it was Alex’s turn, his voice came out shaky. “I’m Alex. I write fiction mostly. Short stories.”
“What kind of stories?” the professor asked.
“Romance usually. Realistic stuff. About people trying to figure things out.”
Someone in the back snorted. Alex’s face burned.
“Sounds interesting,” the professor said pointedly. “I look forward to reading your work.”
Lunch was worse. The dining hall felt like a zoo. Alex got food and found a corner table. Hoped to be invisible.
Des found him anyway.
“How’s it going?” Des asked, sitting down.
“Everyone’s staring.”
“Let them stare. They’ll get bored eventually.”
“When? Because I can’t do three more semesters of this.”
“You can. You will. And I’ll be right here annoying you the whole time.”
Sana joined them ten minutes later. Dropped her tray and immediately started ranting.
“I swear to god, if one more person asks me if you’re okay, I’m going to lose it. Like yes, he’s fine. Stop treating him like a victim.”
“Maybe I am a victim,” Alex said.
“Of what? A loving relationship? Please.”
“Of public opinion.”
“Public opinion can suck it. You know what happened. Elias knows what happened. That’s all that matters.”
Alex wanted to believe her. But the stares kept coming. All day. Every class.
By the time he got home, he was exhausted.
Elias was in the kitchen cooking. Something that smelled amazing. Pasta and garlic.
“Hey,” Elias said. “How was it?”
“Awful. Everyone stared. Someone laughed when I said I write romance. Professor Hartley was nice but that almost made it worse.”
“I’m sorry.”
“How was work?”
“Weird. Jordan pulled me aside first thing. Said if anyone gives me trouble to tell him. But mostly people just avoided me.”
“Great. So we’re both pariahs now.”
“Apparently.”
They ate dinner in silence. The apartment felt smaller somehow. Like the walls were closing in.
“I need to tell you something,” Elias said.
Alex’s stomach dropped. “What?”
“Jordan offered me a promotion. Assistant editor. More money. More responsibility.”
“That’s great. Why do you look upset?”
“Because it means more hours. More travel. There’s a conference in October I’d have to go to. Three days in Chicago.”
“Okay. So go.”
“I don’t want to leave you. Not right now. Not when things are still hard.”
“Elias. This is your career. You have to go.”
“Do I? Or do I stay and take care of us?”
“You can do both. I’m not a child. I can handle three days alone.”
“Can you? Because you looked pretty miserable when you walked in.”
Alex set down his fork. “Don’t do that. Don’t use my bad day as an excuse to turn down a good opportunity.”
“I’m not making excuses. I’m trying to be realistic.”
“Realistic is you taking the promotion and going to the conference. I’ll survive.”
They cleaned up in tense silence. Both tired. Both on edge.
In bed that night, Elias pulled Alex close.
“I’m sorry,” Elias said. “About today. About everything being hard.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Feels like it is. If I’d just been more careful. If I’d waited until after I graduated to pursue you.”
“Then we wouldn’t be together. We’d have missed our chance.”
“Would that have been worse than this?”
Alex turned to face him. “Yes. This is hard. But I’d rather have this than nothing.”
“Even with everyone judging us?”
“Even then. Because I love you. And that’s worth fighting for.”
Elias kissed him. Slow and soft. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Probably not. But you’re stuck with me anyway.”
They made love quietly. Carefully. Like they were both afraid of breaking.
After, Alex lay awake listening to Elias breathe. Thinking about the semester ahead. Three more months of stares. Of whispers. Of being the guy everyone talked about.
His phone lit up on the nightstand. A text from an unknown number.
He almost ignored it. But something made him look.
Unknown: I told you it would end badly. He’s going to drag you down with him. Get out while you still can.
Carter. Still watching. Still trying to poison everything.
Alex deleted the message. Blocked the number.
But the words stayed. Circling in his head like vultures.
What if Carter was right?
What if loving Elias meant destroying himself?
What if this was all a mistake?
He pressed closer to Elias. Felt his warmth. His heartbeat. His realness.
No. Carter was wrong.
This wasn’t a mistake.
This was hard. But it wasn’t wrong.
Alex closed his eyes. Tried to sleep.
Tomorrow would bring more stares. More whispers. More people who thought they knew his story.
But they didn’t know anything.
Only he and Elias knew the truth.
And that had to be enough.
It had to be.