Chapter 124 Still Choosing Each Other

Chapter 124 Still Choosing Each Other
The next morning, something had shifted on campus. It wasn’t anything big just enough to feel it in the air.

People stared. Not in an obvious way, but long enough to notice. Every time Jay and Noah walked by, conversations stopped cold.

Phones came out, angled toward them with fake casualness. Jay acted like nothing was different.

Noah caught every detail the sudden hush in the halls, the quick glances that stuck just a little too long, the way people waited until their backs were turned before whispering again.

They headed to breakfast together. The dining hall was already busy, trays clattering, voices overlapping the way they always did. Jay grabbed a chair for Noah out of habit. Noah raised an eyebrow as he sat down.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being a gentleman.”

“You wouldn’t know how to be a gentleman if it bit you.”

Jay grinned and flopped into the seat next to him. “Hey, people evolve. Survival of the fittest and all that.”

Noah couldn’t help it he laughed, quiet but genuine. He reached for the coffee. “Don’t get weird about it.”

Somewhere close by, a whisper floated across the noise, just loud enough.

“That them?”

“Yeah, from the picture.”

“I saw it last night.”

A different voice, softer: “They actually look cute together.”

“Shut up.”

“No, really. Look.”

Jay caught every word. His smile faltered for a split second before he recovered. Under the table, Noah’s hand found Jay’s knee and squeezed. Jay glanced down, then their fingers threaded together and held on.

A younger student walked by and slowed down, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “You guys okay?”

Jay looked up. “We’re alive.”

The kid nodded, awkward. “Good. That’s… good.” He scurried away.

Noah turned to Jay, still holding his hand under the table. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Jay shrugged. “I dunno, I thought it was sweet. In a panicked, deer-in-headlights sort of way.”

“It wasn’t.”

“You still smiled.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did. I saw.”

Noah tried not to laugh, but it came out anyway soft, hidden behind his coffee.

“You’re impossible.”

“You figured that out ages ago.”

Across the room, Luca sat alone at their usual table. He kept watching, not really meaning to.

They both looked nervous Luca saw it in the way Noah’s shoulders bunched up and Jay sat just slightly in front of him, like he might block the whole world if he could.

But they still reached for each other. Still sat together. Still chose each other in front of everyone. That empty chair beside Luca? It felt even emptier now.

Because Jack wasn’t there.

All day, the comments kept coming. Some stung. A few were unexpectedly nice.

Someone had posted on the school forum: Let them play. Their relationship doesn’t change their talent.

Another one: Why do people care who two consenting people love?

But other posts—well, those hurt to read.

They should be kicked off the team.

Embarrassing for the program.

Coach should suspend them.

This is why players shouldn’t date each other.

Noah stared at his phone between classes, eyes fixed on the screen, letting the words sink in. Jay took the phone before Noah could say anything, thumb moving quick to lock it.

“Stop reading it.”

“I was just—”

“Don’t.” Jay’s voice was gentle but serious. He shoved the phone into his own pocket. “What total strangers think doesn’t matter.”

Noah glanced at him, the hallway packed with people, lockers slamming, noise all around. “And you’re immune to it?”

“No.” Jay’s face softened. “I just care more about what you think.”

Noah’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “I think you’re a pain in the ass.”

“Good. At least I’m consistent.”

“And stubborn.”

“Obviously.”

“And…” Noah hesitated, fingers playing with Jay’s sleeve. Jay just waited.

“And I’m glad you’re here. Even with all this.”

Jay’s joking faded. He grabbed Noah’s hand right there in the hallway, fingers lacing like it was the only thing he’d ever known how to do.

“Me too,” Jay said.

They didn’t move. Just stood there, hands linked, not hiding, not pretending right in front of everyone who cared enough to stare. Jay’s thumb brushed across Noah’s knuckles. Noah didn’t pull away.

For the first time since that photo went everywhere, it felt a little lighter between them.

Jay pushed open his door, flicking the light on with a practiced elbow. Sam sprawled across Jay’s bed, chip bag propped under his chin, looking like he meant to live there. He crunched loudly, eyes tracking Jay and Noah as they came in.

“Oh, look—it’s the scandal of the week,” Sam said, dusting crumbs off his shirt. He didn’t even pause. “You guys don’t actually care what people say, do you?”

Jay just shot him a dry look. “Would it make a difference if we did?”

Sam snorted. “You? Suddenly reasonable? Nah. No way. God, you’re reckless.”

Jay grinned, unfazed. He caught Noah’s hand held it, not hiding a thing and, just because he could, pressed a quick kiss over Noah’s knuckles. “Honestly, Sam? I only care about him.”

Sam groaned, tossing a handful of chips at Jay’s head. “Gross. So sappy. Love sucks—you both suck.”

Jay didn’t bother dodging. A chip bounced off his hoodie and hit the carpet. Noah let out this soft laugh, almost surprised to hear it from himself.

Jay tugged Noah closer, close enough that their shoulders bumped against the battered bookshelf.

The air in the room felt weird tense, sharp at the edges, but they didn’t let go. If anything, Jay’s fingers threaded tighter with Noah’s, like he thought he could hold him steady just by refusing to let go.

For a while, nobody said anything. Sam stretched across the bed, pretending not to care he did, everyone knew, but he hid it anyway.

The silence, though, it wasn’t empty or awkward. Just full of stuff unsaid, all the hurt from outside that somehow didn’t seep into this room.

Noah leaned into Jay’s side, head dropping, just barely, against Jay’s shoulder.

Jay turned a little, pressing his face into Noah’s hair almost shy, almost like he needed to breathe him in just to make the world fade away.

Sam rolled his eyes, but you could see the ghost of a smile at the edge of his mouth. “You guys are—whatever. Don’t come crying to me when the whole school melts down.”

Jay just grinned. “We won’t. You’d offer zero help anyway.”

Noah squeezed Jay’s hand. “I’m glad you’re reckless,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Jay’s answer was quiet too, meant only for him. “Me too.”

So yeah people talked. Phones flashed. The world spun outside, sharp and noisy and full of opinions that stung.

But with jay, behind a messy locked door, they just sat. They just held on. And somehow, that was enough.