"So it's all fake? You're just pretending to be a couple?"
"Not exactly… but yeah. We're not a couple. Not like that."
"And you're telling me this because…?" There was a flicker of hope in his eyes.
"I don't like this tension between us," I said honestly.
"Yeah…" Nick exhaled. "Me neither."
I gave an awkward smile and turned back to the screen.
"Alan?"
I glanced at him. Something had changed in his expression. He looked… decided.
"Yeah?" I asked carefully.
"You know how I feel about you," he said. "At first—yeah, I won't lie—it was just your looks. I wanted you physically. But the more we talk, the more I realize…"
"Wait," I cut in. "Nick—"
"No." He shook his head. "When I heard you and Alma were 'dating,' the only thing I regretted was not making the first move. So I'm doing it now."
He took a breath.
"Alan Holivan, I love you. Not as a friend. Not anything like that. I love you. I want to be with you. I should've said that a long time ago."
"…Nick," I muttered. "That's a bit…"
"I know," he said quietly. "It's a lot. Just… think about it."
"…Okay," I said, not really sure what I was agreeing to.
"And one more thing—"
I turned toward him—
—and he leaned in and kissed me.
He didn't push.
I didn't pull away.
So I… tested it.
I parted my lips slightly.
And in that moment—
I understood something.
Kissing a guy felt better.
Not "fine."
Better.
Especially with the way Nick's hand rested carefully on my injured shoulder, like he was afraid to hurt me, while his other hand slid up my neck and into my hair.
There.
A sharp spark ran through me—fast, sudden—
I pulled back.
"…That's just something for you to think about," he said, a small smile on his lips as he turned back to the screen.
I had no idea what was happening in the movie anymore.
By Friday, I finally decided to talk to Alma.
But I couldn't find her anywhere.
Which was weird.
She was always around before.
Now it felt like she was avoiding me.
I pulled out my phone.
"Hey!" Her voice was bright. Too bright.
"We need to talk," I said.
"Sorry, Alan, can it wait? I'm a little busy."
"No," I said flatly. "We need to talk now."
A pause.
"…Okay," she said, the brightness gone. "Lounge. Ten minutes."
I grabbed two coffees and went outside.
She showed up early.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Alma smiled, almost gliding toward me, placing her hands on my shoulders.
"Alma…" I frowned as she leaned in, almost brushing my lips.
"What? Bad mood?" she asked, sitting down beside me, still holding onto me.
"Stop," I said, more seriously this time, gently removing her hand.
She blinked.
"…Alright. What's wrong?"
"I want to talk about last weekend. And about the rumors spreading around the academy like a damn virus."
"What about them?" she asked, genuinely confused.
"I don't remember us ever agreeing to date," I said. I felt my face heat up. "What happened that night… look. I'm sorry. I was drunk. I wasn't thinking. I should've thought about what would come after."
She went still.
"…So you used me," she said quietly. "And now you're done?"
"No—damn it, that's not what I'm saying," I exhaled sharply. "I'm saying I like you, Alma. I do. But as a friend. I care about you. As a friend."
"As a friend…" she repeated, letting out a slow breath. "So yeah. You used me. And now you're throwing me away."
"That's not—" I stopped, forcing myself to calm down. "I'm sorry if it looks like that. I didn't want to hurt you."
"If you didn't want to hurt me, why are we even having this conversation?" she snapped. "I'm not asking you to love me. That can come later. It happens all the time—people start dating, then they fall in love."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Or what—you just don't want people knowing you're dating a former whore?"
"I told you already—your past doesn't matter to me," I snapped, my voice rising. "Get that through your head already. I'm trying to tell you I want things to go back to how they were. Before. Before that night."
"Oh," she said quietly. "So you just don't want the hassle. You want to pretend it never happened."
She laughed once. Dry.
"That's perfect, Alan. Really perfect."
Her voice hardened.
"I thought you were different. I actually started to feel something. And now you just want to erase it? No. That's not how this works."
She shook her head.
"I can't just go back to how things were. And what happens when you get a girlfriend? Did you even think about that?"
"Alma…" I said, tired. "I really am sorry."
"Then give us a chance!"
"Try to understand—"
"No," she cut me off. "You're just overwhelmed right now. I get it. Really."
She stood up.
"Let's talk later. When you're fully recovered. We'll go on a proper date. Spend the whole day—and night—together."
She smiled.
"I promise you'll change your mind."
She leaned in, kissed my cheek—
—and left before I could say anything.
I sat there, staring at the two untouched coffees.
Cold already.
"That went badly, huh?"
I looked up.
Nick.
"…Yeah," I muttered. "How am I supposed to talk to her if she doesn't listen at all?"
"Next time, don't argue," he shrugged. "Just make it a fact."
A pause.
"Want to watch a movie? I've still got seven discs left."
"…Yeah. Sure. I'll just stop by my room first. Need to switch the bandages."
"I'll help. Grab your stuff and come over."
"Doesn't look as bad as before," Nick muttered, flinching slightly as he touched the healing wound on my shoulder.
I sat on his bed while he worked.
The bandages came off.
The air hit the skin—cold.
But it didn't hurt much anymore.
Healing was doing its job.
"Alright… face next," he said, gripping the edge of the bandage—
—and yanked it off in one sharp motion.
I winced.
"Sorry. Better to do it fast."
He frowned, carefully cleaning the uneven, raised stitches.
"…You'll have a scar," he said quietly, placing a new dressing.
Then he looked at me.
That same look.
The same one from before.
His hand was still resting against my cheek.
He leaned in.
Slowly.
This time—
more confident.
I didn't move.
Didn't pull away.
Didn't stop him.
He closed the distance—
and stopped just a breath away from my lips.