I pulled my hand back from Ethan's. My heart raced, and I couldn't find my voice as I stared at him, the weight of his confession hanging heavily in the air between us. He was gay. The realization felt surreal, as if I'd stepped into someone else's life for a moment.
"I'm gay. I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. I can justâleave," Ethan said, rising from his chair, a look of uncertainty crossing his face. My instinct kicked in, and I grabbed his arm to stop him.
"Don't. Just... sit down," I urged, my voice steadier than I felt. He hesitated but finally settled back into his seat, his eyes searching mine. "When did you start... knowing about it? Or feeling it?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of my shock.
"Knowing I was gay?" He echoed, and I nodded, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. "About three years ago," he admitted, his voice softening.
"So, Alissa knows that you're gay?" I asked, my thoughts racing. I could see the nod in his eyes before he confirmed it with a slight dip of his head.
"Alissa knew from the beginning. Back when I was in Chicago, I was bullied because people found out I was gay. Alissa helped me by pretending to be my girlfriend, and in the process, she ended up falling for me," he explained, his gaze drifting to the table.
I took a sip of my coffee, trying to quench the dryness in my mouth. "So, you decided to split up before things got any worse?" I said, piecing together the fragments of his story. It was a lot to absorb.
"Yeah. It was the right choice," he replied, looking up at me. "Hailey," he said softly, reaching out to hold my hand, the warmth of his touch bringing back memories of simpler times.
God, I missed when he called me "baby girl."
"Yeah?" I replied, raising an eyebrow at him, sensing the weight of the moment.
"It's just... I can't believe that you are..." he trailed off, sadness creeping into his expression.
"Gay," I finished for him. "I can't believe it either," I said, trying to inject some lightness into the tension.
"Look, if you think I'm going to hate you for being gay, you've got it all wrong. I love you for who you are, and I think it's incredibly brave of you to tell me," I said earnestly, and I meant every word.
His smile flickered to life, a spark of relief shining in his eyes. But I couldn't shake the mixed emotions swirling inside meâhappiness that he felt safe enough to confide in me, sadness for the struggles he had faced, and a deep, hollow ache that I couldn't quite define.
Ethan stood and moved to sit beside me, close enough that I could feel his warmth. "Thank you so much, Hailey. I love you, and I'm grateful to have you as my best friend," he said, pulling me into a hug.
I wrapped my arms around him, feeling the familiar comfort of his embrace, but a pang of hurt shot through me. He had just put me firmly in the friend zone, and while I had worked hard to move on, the sting was still there. "I love you too," I said, forcing a smile.
He pulled back, and there was a hint of joy in his eyes, but it didn't quite reach his smile. "So, who were you with last time? I saw you at the mall a few months ago, flirting with someone," he asked, a teasing tone creeping into his voice.
Ethan chuckled, the tension between us lightening slightly. "That was Taylor. My boyfriend," he said, the words feeling strange but refreshing on his lips. The idea of him being in a relationship with a guy was still a hard concept for me to wrap my head around.
"Do you want to meet him? Taylor is really amazing, and I think you'll likeâ"
Before he could finish, a loud thud broke through our conversation. I turned just in time to see someone punch Ethan in the face. My heart sank, adrenaline rushing through me as I jumped to my feet. "Ethan!" I shouted, rushing to help him up.
Cayden stood there, fists clenched, his expression twisted in anger. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I demanded, fury boiling inside me.
Ethan wiped his nose, looking stunned but resolute. "What the hell, man?" he shot back, getting to his feet. Cayden advanced toward him, and instinct kicked in again. I stepped in front of Ethan, my gaze steady.
"Let's not do this here," I said, keeping my voice calm despite the storm of emotions raging within me. People were staring, and the last thing I wanted was for this to escalate further. "Let's go outside," I told Cayden, who glared at Ethan before storming out of the coffee shop.
"I'm so sorry about that," I turned to Ethan, but he just flashed me a sad smile.
"It's fine. Now, go talk to your boyfriend," he said, the words hanging heavily in the air. I wanted to tell him that Cayden wasn't my boyfriend anymore, but I swallowed it down, nodding instead.
"Thanks, Ethan," I replied, feeling a mix of guilt and determination as I left the coffee shop to confront Cayden.
Outside, I spotted him leaning against the wall, smoke curling from a cigarette. I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I approached him. "What the hell was that?" I demanded, anger bubbling to the surface.
He met my gaze, annoyance flashing in his eyes. "I saw the two of you together and didn't like what I was seeing," he said, flicking his cigarette away.
"Didn't like what you were seeing? Are you following me?" I shot back, disbelief creeping into my tone.
"No!" he snapped, but the tension in his voice gave him away.
"He was flirting with you!" he accused, stepping closer, his voice rising.
"Cayden, he's my friend! You can't just punch him because you're jealous!" I argued, my patience wearing thin. "And didn't I tell you before that we're over? You don't own me, and you can't dictate who I talk to or who I hang out with."
His expression darkened, frustration spilling over. "I know it made you mad that I didn't tell you about my relationship with Taylor."
"Mad? You have no idea. I was heartbroken, Cayden. You broke my heart," I said, my voice rising as anger mixed with sadness. "You kept it a secret for over two months, and I wanted to fight for what we had, but you wouldn't even tell me that you loved me."
He looked at me, the shadows of regret crossing his features. "IâI do. I do love you," he finally admitted, but it felt hollow. I wanted to believe him, but his words lacked the sincerity I craved.
A tear slipped down my cheek, and I wiped it away angrily. "Then I'd like to see you prove it," I said, turning away from him. I couldn't stay there a second longer, not when my heart felt so heavy.
I walked toward my car, desperate to escape the pain swirling around me, but I could feel his gaze on my back, heavy and pleading. I got in and drove away, the road ahead a blur of lights and emotions.
***
I stumbled through the front door just after 11:30 PM, a full hour past my curfew. The house was dimly lit, and as I stepped inside, I caught sight of my mom pacing anxiously in the living room. Her eyes met mine, a mixture of concern and frustration etched on her face.
"Where have you been?" she demanded, her voice tight. "It's late. I was worried sick."
I crossed my arms defensively. "Oh? Now you're worried?" My tone dripped with sarcasm, and I saw her flinch at the harshness.
"Hailey," she said softly, taking a step toward me.
"I'm not in the mood," I warned, my voice rising.
"Please, let's talk about this," she pleaded, her expression shifting to sadness.
"I DON'T WANT TO TALK," I shouted, letting the pain seep into my words. I turned on my heel and started to head upstairs, needing to escape the suffocating tension. But my mom's voice stopped me again.
"Hailey, I love you. And I love Liam too. He makes me happy. I feel like a different person when I'm with him. I hope you understand that."
"And I hope you understand that what you're doing is breaking my heart," I replied, my voice cracking. I wanted her to be happy, but why did it have to come at my expense?
Once in my room, I closed the door behind me and locked it, needing the barrier between us. I leaned against the door, my body sliding down to the floor as tears streamed down my cheeks. Everything felt heavy. My mom was moving on, and I was still stuck, grappling with the reality that Cayden was going to be my stepbrother.
I pushed myself off the floor and walked to my closet. I crouched down, rummaging through old boxes until I found two scrapbooks.
Settling onto my bed, I opened the first scrapbook I had made when I was ten, filled with photographs of my family. Flipping through the pages, I landed on my favorite shot: my dad kissing my mom's cheek while I beamed between them, my eyes shut tight in delight.
I paused, tracing the image with my fingers, lost in that moment of pure joy from my childhood.
Next, I opened the more recent scrapbook I had put together over the holidays. It contained photos of me, Amelia, my mom, Caleb, Ethan, and Cayden. I flipped through the pages, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over me. I spotted a picture of Cayden and me at the beach, taken during our spring break.
Amelia had snapped it as we sat on the sand, watching the waves roll in at night. I remembered that moment vividly, the warmth of his shoulder against mine.
The next page held a group shot of all of us, smiling together. James had convinced a beach house employee to take a series of photos, and we all wore silly expressions in one of them. I laughed at our ridiculousness, but my heart fluttered when I noticed Cayden staring at me instead of making a funny face.
That lingering gaze sent a rush through me. I smiled at the photo, my heart tightening with bittersweet memories as I placed it back in the scrapbook.
As I flipped to the next page, something caught my eye. I pulled out two photos from the beach trip. In the first, we were all smiling at the camera, and I noticed a figure in the background wearing sunglasses. He looked vaguely familiar.
In the second photo, the same guy stood behind us again, but this time he was staring directly at the camera, shades removed. My heart dropped as I recognized him. It was Trevor.
The realization sent chills down my spine. He had been following me all along.
I closed the scrapbooks, a knot forming in my stomach. This was the last thing I needed right now.