When Evan's secret crush on the school's golden boy, Aiden, gets exposed, his world falls apart. Just when he thinks it can't get worse, Aiden asks him to be his boyfriend. What begins as a confusing arrangement slowly turns into something real—something neither of them expected.
Chapter 1 - 2
It was one of those quiet mornings when the school felt too big for the number of hearts beating inside it.
The halls were wide and sunlit, echoing with the sound of sneakers, laughter, and the occasional locker slam that made teachers sigh from across the corridor.
Among the hundreds of students who passed through those polished floors every day, there was one who always seemed to shrink into his hoodie as if the world were a size too large for him.
His name was Evan Reed.
Seventeen. Freckles scattered like constellations across his nose. Hair the color of burnt chestnut that never quite decided what direction it wanted to rest in.
He wasn't the kind of boy who drew attention — not deliberately, anyway.
He walked quietly, carried a stack of books that seemed heavier than necessary, and smiled to himself like someone who had too many thoughts and nowhere safe to place them.
And that "safe place" had always been his diary.
A small, navy-blue notebook with frayed edges, tucked neatly in his bag between old assignments and gum wrappers.
It was his one companion that didn't talk back, didn't laugh, didn't ask why he wrote so much about a single boy.
That boy being Aiden Cross.
---
The cafeteria buzzed like a hive that morning.
Football posters lined the walls, announcing Homecoming: Two Weeks Away! in bold red and gold letters. The smell of fries and ketchup clung to the air, and the clatter of trays made conversation a little louder than it needed to be.
Evan sat at his usual spot near the window, surrounded by three of the only people in the school who treated him like a human being rather than an extra in a bad teenage comedy.
Mara, with her bubblegum-pink hair and endless bracelets that jingled every time she moved her hands. She was sharp-tongued but loyal.
Then there was Theo, a lanky boy who wore suspenders ironically and always carried his camera, claiming he was "documenting youth in its raw, tragic beauty."
And lastly, Jenny, quiet but fierce, the kind of girl who would stare down a teacher if she believed someone was being treated unfairly.
They were misfits, all of them, but that was what made them a perfect match.
"So," Mara said, stealing one of Evan's fries. "Did you do the bio homework, or did you once again decide to die an honorable death on the altar of procrastination?"
Evan smirked faintly, pushing his glasses up. "I did it. Mostly."
"Mostly?" Theo asked, camera strap hanging around his neck like a statement piece. "That's what my grandma says when she's not sure if she left the oven on."
Jenny giggled softly. "At least he tried. That's more than you did, Theo."
"Hey," Theo said, mock offended. "I was busy—"
"Taking pictures of pigeons?" Mara cut in. "You call that art?"
"Don't disrespect my models."
The table burst into laughter. Evan laughed, too — quietly, like laughter was something he had to borrow. For a brief moment, he felt normal. Like he wasn't the boy with a diary full of impossible feelings.
---
But his peace never lasted long at Crestwood High.
Just three tables away sat the royalty of the school — Aiden Cross and his team of football demigods.
Aiden was laughing, a hand running through his golden-brown hair, dimples flashing whenever he smiled. His letterman jacket hung casually off one shoulder, and he looked like someone painted to perfection.
And maybe that was why Evan couldn't stop looking at him.
He told himself it was just admiration — the way some people admired stars or art — distant and untouchable.
But then Aiden would smile, or speak in that calm, deep voice, or casually drape his arm over a friend's shoulder, and Evan's stomach would twist like he'd swallowed a confession.
Mara noticed. Of course, she did.
"You're staring again," she whispered without looking up from her tray.
Evan blinked, flustered. "No, I wasn't."
"Sweetheart, you were practically writing sonnets with your eyes."
Theo grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Let the man dream, Mara. It's harmless. Unless he starts reciting poetry in the middle of class again."
Jenny elbowed Theo. "Don't tease him. It's cute."
"It's tragic," Mara corrected. "Aiden Cross doesn't even know Evan exists."
Evan smiled weakly, stirring his soda with the straw. "It's fine. I'm not planning to… you know… do anything about it."
And he wasn't.
He was content just watching from afar, living inside the words he wrote about Aiden — the quiet fantasies, the what-ifs that would never reach the air.
At least, that was the plan.
---
The trouble started after lunch.
It happened so fast, like watching dominoes fall in slow motion.
Evan had just finished math class and was heading toward his locker when he felt a shove from behind. His backpack fell with a thud, books spilling out like confetti.
"Oops," came a mocking voice.
Evan looked up. Chase Miller, the unofficial leader of the hallway tormentors, stood there grinning, flanked by his two cronies, Liam and Nate.
Chase was tall, broad, and had the permanent smirk of someone who thought the world existed for his entertainment.
"Sorry, Reed," he said, bending to pick something up — except he didn't pick up Evan's textbooks. He picked up the navy-blue notebook.
Evan's stomach dropped.
"No, wait—"
But Chase had already flipped it open.
"Oh-ho, what's this?" he said, flipping through the pages dramatically. "A diary? Oh man, this is gold."
"Give it back, Chase," Evan said quickly, reaching for it, but Liam blocked his way, laughing.
"Don't be shy, Evan. Let us hear some of your poetry," Chase teased, pretending to clear his throat.
"Let's see… 'The way his smile lights the field makes the stars jealous.' Damn, Reed, you're a romantic!"
Laughter erupted from nearby students who had begun to gather.
Evan's face went pale. "Stop it! Give it back!"
"Oh, and who's this about?" Chase grinned, turning the book toward the crowd.
"Oh wait—here it is! 'Aiden Cross looked at me today. Just once. I thought maybe he remembered me from middle school.' Aww, that's adorable."
More laughter. Phones out. Videos recording.
Evan lunged forward, desperate, but Nate grabbed his arm. "Relax, lover boy."
Chase continued reading, milking the crowd's reaction.
> "If only he knew how much I loved him. If only I could tell him."
The laughter turned crueler, sharper.
And then — silence.
Because Aiden Cross himself had walked into the hall.
His friends followed, confused at the commotion. His eyes landed on Chase first, then the diary, then Evan — red-faced, trembling, eyes wet with humiliation.
"What the hell's going on?" Aiden asked, frowning.
Chase smirked. "Just story time, man. Turns out you've got a secret admirer." He waved the diary in the air. "From our boy, Evan Reed."
Aiden froze. His jaw tightened. His teammates laughed uncertainly, not sure if they should join in or stay quiet.
Evan couldn't breathe.
The world tilted.
Without another word, he pushed past them, snatched what was left of his backpack, and ran.
---
He didn't stop running until he reached the park three blocks away.
The trees swayed gently, the pond reflected the early afternoon sun, and the only sound was his uneven breathing.
He dropped onto the nearest bench, clutching the diary against his chest like a wounded bird.
It was over. Whatever normalcy he had was gone.
He imagined the whispers spreading through classrooms, the looks, the smirks.
He imagined Aiden laughing with them.
Tears slipped quietly down his cheeks.
He didn't even hear Mara until she sat beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey," she said softly. "I saw what happened. Theo's trying to talk to a teacher about it."
Evan shook his head. "Doesn't matter. They all know now. Everyone."
Mara's hand tightened. "You didn't do anything wrong."
He looked at her, eyes glassy. "I wrote about someone who'll never look at me the same way again. That's wrong enough."
---
That night, he sat at his desk under the dim glow of a single lamp. The diary lay open again — pages crinkled, words smudged by the afternoon's tears.
He picked up his pen and wrote slowly,
> "Dear diary,
I think today, a part of me died.
Maybe the part that still believed love could stay secret forever."
Outside, rain began to fall.
He closed the book, unaware that tomorrow — that same boy he loved from afar — would be waiting for him after school, with an offer that would change everything.
♥ • ♥ • ♥
The rain stopped just before the final bell rang the next day, leaving the pavement slick and shining like glass.
The smell of wet grass clung to the air, and puddles reflected the gray sky.
Evan didn't wait for the bell to fully finish ringing before slipping out of the building.
He just wanted to go home, lock the door, and pretend yesterday had never happened.
He kept his hoodie up, head low, hoping if he moved fast enough, no one would see him.
But of course, whispers still followed him down the hall.
It was impossible to ignore the quiet laughter or the not-so-subtle glances in his direction. Some students nudged each other when he passed. Others just smirked.
The funny thing about humiliation is how it lingers. Even when the crowd moves on, the shame sticks to you like static.
He didn't even stop by his locker. His backpack was lighter now anyway — the diary was back home on his desk, folded shut like a wounded memory.
He was halfway down the school's front steps when he heard someone call out.
"Evan!"
He froze.
That voice—he knew it instantly. It had the kind of confidence that made people turn automatically. A voice used to being listened to.
When he looked up, Aiden Cross was standing near the bike rack, one hand resting on the handlebars of his sleek black bike.
His letterman jacket was zipped halfway, his hair slightly damp from the earlier rain.
Evan's first instinct was to run the other way. The last person he wanted to face was the one whose name had been read out loud to the entire hallway yesterday.
But Aiden was walking toward him already, and somehow Evan's legs refused to move.
"Hey," Aiden said when he stopped in front of him. His tone was casual, but there was something uncertain behind it. "Can we talk?"
Evan blinked, unsure if he was hearing right. "Talk? About what?"
Aiden shifted his weight, scratching the back of his neck. "About… yesterday."
The words alone made Evan's stomach twist. He looked away. "It's fine. You don't have to say anything. I know it was weird."
Aiden sighed. "Yeah, it was weird. But I didn't laugh."
That made Evan glance up. "You didn't stop them either."
Aiden looked like he wanted to argue but couldn't. "You're right. I should have." Then he nodded toward the field. "Walk with me for a minute?"
Evan hesitated, torn between confusion and curiosity.
The rain had left the grass soft and the air cool, and maybe—just maybe—he wanted to hear what Aiden had to say.
He finally nodded.
They walked in silence at first, past the empty bleachers that gleamed silver in the weak sunlight.
The field smelled of wet dirt and cut grass. From the distance, the faint echo of laughter from the locker room carried through the wind.
Evan shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
Aiden stopped and turned to face him. His eyes—blue and steady—met Evan's.
"You liked me. That's what your diary said, right?"
Evan's heart thudded. "That was—those were old notes. From middle school."
"Still true?" Aiden asked quietly.
Evan blinked, caught off guard. "Why are you asking me that?"
Aiden took a deep breath, almost like he was bracing himself. "Because I was thinking… maybe we could try something."
"Try what?"
Aiden's lips curved slightly, but it wasn't quite a smile. "Us."
Evan stared at him, certain he misheard. "Us? As in—you mean—like dating?"
Aiden nodded. "Yeah. Dating. Secretly, though. I'm not ready to deal with the school turning it into another circus."
For a moment, Evan couldn't speak. His mind was trying to keep up, flipping through every reason this could be a dream or a trick.
"Why would you even want that? You don't even… you're not…"
"Gay?" Aiden finished for him, shrugging. "I don't know what I am. I just know I keep thinking about what it'd be like. To be with someone who really sees me, not the captain, not the popular guy. Someone who actually means it."
Evan blinked hard, processing. "And you think that's me?"
"I think I want to find out."
He said it with that steady, confident tone again—the one that made it hard to tell if he was serious or just curious.
But Aiden's expression was calm, unreadable, and in that quiet, uncertain way, it was exactly the kind of thing Evan had always imagined him saying in those old diary pages.
A small, helpless laugh escaped him. "You're serious?"
Aiden nodded. "Yeah. I am."
Evan's chest felt tight and dizzy all at once. He wanted to ask a hundred questions, but the idea of Aiden actually wanting this—wanting him—was too overwhelming.
"And you want it to be secret," he said after a moment. "Because…?"
Aiden's jaw tensed. "Because I'm not ready for people to know. Not yet. I don't even know what this is for me."
Evan hesitated, his heart torn between joy and uncertainty. But then he saw the way Aiden looked at him—like he really was curious, like he really wanted to try—and all those quiet fantasies he had ever written down came rushing back.
He smiled, small and trembling. "Okay."
"Okay?" Aiden repeated, surprised. "You mean you're in?"
Evan nodded. "Yeah. I mean… if that's what you want."
Aiden's grin finally broke through, soft and genuine. "Good. We'll start slow. Just us."
Evan's heart fluttered wildly. He nodded again, trying not to look too eager. "Okay."
As Aiden turned back toward his bike, the silence between them settled into something different—awkward but not uncomfortable.
Before he left, Aiden paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "And Evan?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't let what happened yesterday get to you. People forget fast. You'll see."
Evan smiled faintly, though he wasn't sure if that was true. "Thanks, Aiden."
Aiden gave a small nod before riding off, the tires kicking up thin streaks of water on the road.
Evan stood there for a long while, watching him go, the wind lifting the edge of his hoodie.
His thoughts were tangled somewhere between disbelief and hope.
He knew what he should be feeling—skepticism, caution, maybe even fear—but all he felt was a growing warmth in his chest that refused to fade.
For the first time since the diary incident, he smiled.
---
That evening, back home, Mara called him three times before he finally picked up.
"Evan Reed, if you're hiding because of yesterday, I swear—"
"I'm not," he said quickly, sitting on his bed, diary open beside him. "Something… happened."
Her tone softened. "What do you mean 'something happened'?"
He hesitated. "Aiden talked to me."
There was a sharp pause. "Talked? Like apologized?"
"Kind of," Evan said, unsure how to explain. "He… asked me to be his boyfriend."
"What?!"
Evan winced, holding the phone away from his ear. "Keep your voice down, please."
"Are you serious right now?" Mara hissed. "Evan, that boy is the reason your diary turned into a school-wide comedy show yesterday!"
"I know. But it wasn't his fault. He said he didn't laugh."
Mara groaned. "Of course, he didn't laugh—he doesn't need to. He's got everyone else doing that for him. What's the catch?"
"He just wants it private. That's all."
"That's not all and you know it," she muttered, then sighed. "You're going to do it anyway, aren't you?"
Evan smiled faintly. "Probably."
"Unbelievable," she said, though her tone was more tired than angry. "Fine. Just don't let him play you, okay?"
"I won't."
"Evan," she said seriously, "promise me."
"I promise."
When the call ended, Evan stared at his reflection in the mirror.
He still looked like the same awkward boy with messy hair and too many freckles, but his eyes—his eyes looked alive again.
Maybe this was stupid. Maybe it would all fall apart.
But maybe, just maybe, it would be something beautiful.
He picked up his pen and wrote in his diary again.
> "Dear diary,
Today he asked me to be his boyfriend.
I said yes. I think I might regret it, but right now, it feels like flying."
He smiled to himself, closed the diary, and for the first time in days, fell asleep with his heart feeling just a little bit lighter.
♥ • ♥ • ♥
The week after Aiden's unexpected proposal felt like stepping into a different world—one where Evan didn't quite know how to breathe yet.
School hadn't changed on the outside. The bell still rang too early, teachers still handed out quizzes that could ruin a person's morning, and the cafeteria still smelled faintly of burnt fries and detergent.
But for Evan, everything suddenly had a pulse. Every time his phone buzzed, every time he caught a glimpse of Aiden across the hallway, it felt like he was living inside a secret he couldn't tell anyone.
Except Mara, though she kept narrowing her eyes at him during lunch and saying things like, "You're smiling too much for a boy who was publicly humiliated a week ago."
Evan would just shrug, stabbing at his mashed potatoes. "Maybe I've discovered inner peace."
"Inner peace my foot," Mara muttered. "You're glowing. Stop glowing, it's suspicious."
Jenny laughed. "Leave him alone. Maybe he's just happy for once."
Theo adjusted his camera strap, watching Evan carefully. "Happy, huh? Sounds dangerous."
Evan rolled his eyes, pretending not to hear. But he was happy.
Even though it made no sense, even though it was risky and weird and probably doomed, he couldn't help it.
Aiden Cross had asked him out. That alone was enough to light up his entire week.
---
Their first date wasn't even supposed to be a date.
It happened on a Thursday evening after school. Aiden texted him for the first time—just a short, casual message.
> Aiden: Hey.
Aiden: Meet me behind the bleachers after practice?
Evan must have stared at the screen for five full minutes before typing back.
> Evan: Why?
Aiden: Because I said please.
He didn't actually say please, but somehow the message made Evan grin anyway.
He waited until the field was empty, the sunset spilling gold across the grass. Aiden was already there, sitting on the lowest row of bleachers, still in his football jersey.
His hair was damp, his skin flushed from practice, and he looked annoyingly perfect.
"Hey," Aiden said when Evan approached.
"Hey," Evan replied, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pocket. "You said you wanted to talk."
"I did." Aiden smiled slightly. "Or maybe I just wanted to see if you'd actually come."
Evan arched a brow. "And if I didn't?"
"Then I'd have to stalk you, obviously."
Evan laughed before he could stop himself. "You're terrible."
"I'm honest," Aiden said with a smirk. "That counts for something."
They sat together for a while, not saying much. The field lights flickered on one by one, and the sound of distant traffic filled the quiet spaces between their words.
It wasn't a traditional first date—no movies, no dinner, no flowers.
Just two boys sitting shoulder to shoulder on cold metal seats, pretending they weren't both nervous.
Aiden tossed a small pebble onto the field. "So, you really wrote about me for years?"
Evan groaned softly, covering his face. "Can we not bring that up?"
Aiden chuckled. "It's kind of flattering, you know. I mean, embarrassing for you, but flattering for me."
Evan peeked at him through his fingers. "You're enjoying this too much."
"Maybe," Aiden admitted. "But you have to admit—it's a little funny."
Evan sighed but smiled anyway. "It's not funny when it's your actual trauma."
Aiden's grin softened. "Fair enough."
For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Then Aiden turned, his voice quieter.
"You know, I wasn't joking when I said I wasn't joking when I said I wanted this. I don't know what I'm doing, but I want to try. With you."
Evan's heart skipped. He nodded slowly. "Okay."
---
Date: September 19, Tuesday
Their second date came a week later.
Aiden had texted him again that morning.
> Aiden: You doing anything after school?
Evan: Homework. Why?
Aiden: Boring. Meet me at Westview Mall at 5.
Evan almost said no. He hated malls—too many people, too many mirrors—but curiosity and the image of Aiden waiting there won easily.
When he arrived, Aiden was leaning against the railing near the fountain, dressed in jeans and a gray hoodie.
No team jacket this time. Just a boy trying not to look too recognizable.
"You actually came," Aiden said, smiling.
"You told me to."
"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd say yes that fast."
"I didn't," Evan said, adjusting his backpack strap. "I stared at the message for fifteen minutes."
Aiden laughed. "You're honest. I like that."
They wandered the mall aimlessly at first—past stores that smelled like expensive perfume and kiosks selling phone cases.
Aiden bought two sodas, handed one to Evan, and they sat on the edge of the fountain.
Evan tried to act normal, but he couldn't ignore how close their knees were.
He kept looking down, afraid his face might give him away.
"So," Aiden said after a while, sipping his drink. "Tell me something about you I don't know."
Evan blinked. "Uh, I don't know. I like astronomy. I draw sometimes."
"That's not embarrassing enough," Aiden teased. "C'mon, something juicy."
Evan thought for a second. "I once tried to impress someone by pretending I could skateboard."
"And?"
"I broke my arm."
Aiden burst out laughing, nearly spilling his soda. "Oh my God, that's actually perfect."
Evan chuckled despite himself. "You're enjoying my pain again."
"Yeah," Aiden said between laughs. "But you make it sound adorable, so it's fine."
They talked for over an hour—about random things, school gossip, how Theo once almost got detention for taking "artistic photos" of the principal's car. It felt natural, easy.
Eventually, they ended up in the arcade near the food court.
Aiden insisted on a racing game, and within ten minutes, he was shouting things like "You're cheating!" while Evan calmly drifted past him for the fourth time in a row.
"You're definitely cheating," Aiden said, pointing at him.
"I'm just better," Evan replied, smirking. "It's called skill."
"Oh, is that what it's called?"
Aiden leaned closer, eyes gleaming, and for a second, Evan forgot to breathe.
The arcade lights reflected in his eyes, and everything else faded—the noise, and the blinking machines.
Then Aiden leaned back, smirking again. "You're dangerous, Reed."
Evan laughed, shaking his head. "And you're dramatic."
When they finally left the arcade, the sun had dipped below the horizon.
The sky outside the mall was streaked with pink and blue, and the evening breeze felt soft and calm.
Aiden walked him halfway home, keeping his hands in his pockets. "You know," he said casually, "you're actually fun to hang out with."
"Thanks, I think?"
"It's a compliment," Aiden assured him. "You make things feel… normal."
Evan smiled faintly. "Normal's good."
"Yeah," Aiden said, glancing at him. "Normal's really good."
They stopped at the corner where Evan's street began. For a moment, they both just stood there, uncertain how to end it.
"See you tomorrow?" Evan asked.
"Yeah," Aiden said. "And don't tell anyone about today. Not even your friends, okay?"
Evan nodded, though something inside him tugged at that. "Got it. Secret."
"Good."
Aiden gave him a small wave before turning away, his footsteps fading into the e
vening quiet.
Evan stood there long after he was gone, heart beating too fast for a simple "normal" day.
Words ~ 4097