You and Charlie, Michael said, lowering his voice like the walls might be listening. People are talking… and, look, I know you two are a thing.
I froze, my hands still dripping over the sink. My mind scrambled for something—denial, a joke, anything—but nothing came out.
What are you saying I asked, though my heart was beating so fast it felt like it might burst out of my chest.
It seems you get it all wrong, I blurted, forcing a weak laugh. We're just besties, you know… close friends.
Michael shook his head slowly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. No need to tell lies. I've seen you two together more than once. I know everything.
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. In that moment, I realized there was no point hiding. Michael was trustworthy—and he already knew.
Alright, I said quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them. Fine. We're together.
Now you're lying again, he countered, eyes narrowing slightly. Maybe I should come out straight: I know you guys are deeply in love.
I exhaled, caught between panic and relief, unsure of what to say next.
Michael… I said carefully. You really shouldn't say things like that out loud.
I didn't, he shrugged. Just you and me in here.
There was no mockery in his tone. His smirk softened into something sincere. Hey, it's okay. I'm glad you told me. Really. You don't have to hide around me.
I blinked, surprised at how calm he was. You're not going to tell anyone?
Of course not, he said, shaking his head. You trust me, right? I trust you. That's enough.
A quiet breath escaped me, the tension in my chest easing. For the first time since he'd cornered me, I felt safe letting the truth settle between us.
After talking with Michael, I stepped out of the restroom, my thoughts heavy. I needed to see Charlie—needed his voice, his face, the one thing that grounded me.
I found him near the lockers, scrolling through his phone. Charlie, I called softly.
He looked up, a small smile lighting his face. Hey. You okay?
I nodded. Yeah… I just needed to talk to someone.
Someone in particular? he teased.
I smiled faintly. Yeah. You.
His grin widened as he shut his locker. Then I'm all ears.
But even as we spoke, a pang of sadness crept in. His reaction was calm, almost too calm. Not the warmth I secretly craved. And it hit me—this was my fault. I was the one who asked for less affection in public. The rules I set had built this distance.
Charlie, I said, quieter now. I have something to discuss with you after school.
He tilted his head. After school? Okay. Sure. What's up?
It's… important. Just you and me.
Alright, he said easily. We'll talk then. Don't worry about it now.
I nodded, but the heaviness in my chest lingered.
After school, we met at our favorite spot in the park. The air was still, the world quieter here, just the two of us.
But the calm didn't last long. The moment I mentioned Michael, Charlie's expression shifted. The faint smile he wore evaporated, replaced by something harder—hurt, frustration, betrayal.
You told him? His voice was sharper than usual, and for a moment, I wished the ground would swallow me whole.
I hesitated, guilt flashing across my face. I… yeah. I did.
Charlie stepped back slightly, shaking his head. Unbelievable. Just this morning you told me you didn't want anyone knowing. And now you go and tell Michael everything yourself? He let out a hollow laugh, more bitter than amused. God, I just don't get it.
I thought— I started, but my voice cracked.
No. Don't I thought me, Charlie snapped, cutting me off. Do you even hear yourself? You make me promise to keep things quiet, you draw the line on what we can and can't do in public, and then you turn around and confide in Michael? What the hell am I supposed to think?
I know, I said quickly, tears prickling at the edges of my eyes. I know it doesn't make sense. But I trusted him, Charlie. I didn't want him to hear rumors—I wanted him to know the truth from me.
Charlie raked a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. That doesn't make it better. You don't get to decide that on your own. You went behind my back. His jaw clenched. You don't even realize how much that hurts.
I do, I whispered, desperate to make him understand. I do realize it. I just panicked. He cornered me and—
And you broke, Charlie cut in again, his voice low but tight with anger. You broke, and now I have to live with that.
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. His eyes, usually warm, were cold tonight, full of a disappointment that made me feel smaller than ever.
Finally, he spoke again, softer this time but no less heavy. I think I need a little space. Just for me to wrap my head around things. Because… what if he spills it out? What if all of this gets out?
I stepped closer, shaking my head. No, don't do this. Please—we can talk through it now. I don't want space. I want us to fix this.
Charlie's arms stayed crossed, his gaze steady but full of hurt. You want to fix it? Then you should've thought of that before telling him. I can't just flip a switch and be okay. Not right now.
We went back and forth for what felt like forever—me begging him to listen, him pushing me back with silence, sharp words, and tired sighs.
And then, finally, I gave in. Not because I wanted to, but because I had no strength left to fight him.
Okay, I said softly, broken. If that's what you need.
He didn't answer. He just turned and walked away—no hug, no lingering glance, no reassurance that we'd be okay.
I stood there, watching him disappear into the distance, each step pulling him further away from me, and yet anchoring the guilt deeper in my chest.
When I got home, the silence was worse. No message. No call. Nothing. I curled up on my bed, hugging my knees, and the sadness hit hard.
I felt really alone. Achingly alone. My chest ached with the thought that maybe I had ruined everything—by telling Michael, and by giving Charlie the space he asked for but I didn't want to give.