Chapter 6
Carl stirred awake.
The early morning light crept in through the half-closed blinds, soft and gray. He blinked slowly, disoriented for a second, until he turned and saw Robert lying next to him.
His sleeping face was calm—peaceful, even. Carl's chest tightened a little. He allowed himself to watch for just a moment longer before a phone began to ring.
Carl shut his eyes quickly and pretended to be asleep.
Robert stirred, reaching across Carl carefully. He answered the call in a hushed tone, then slipped out of bed and padded out of the room.
Carl slowly opened his eyes. His heart was still racing from the night before, and his gaze drifted down to the clothes scattered on the floor—his uniform and Robert's shirt. He ran a hand through his messy curls and exhaled.
The door creaked open again. Carl shut his eyes once more.
Robert stepped inside, looked briefly at Carl curled under the sheets, then bent down to gather the discarded clothes. He didn't say anything. Just picked them up, tossed them into the laundry basket, and walked into the bathroom.
Carl heard the shower start. Water running.
When Robert came out, his hair was damp and combed back. He had changed into a fitted shirt and dark slacks, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, a watch on his wrist. He took the laundry basket out, then went into the small laundry room to throw the stained clothes in the wash.
The soft clinking of plates followed next—Robert in the kitchen.
Carl finally sat up, rubbing his face. He moved to the bathroom for a quick shower, then wandered into Robert's room again, pulled open a drawer, and picked one of Robert's shirts.
It smelled like him. He slipped it on.
In the kitchen, the smell of something frying filled the air.
Carl walked in barefoot, hair still wet. He sat quietly at the small dining table.
"Good morning," Robert said without looking up.
"Morning," Carl replied, biting his bottom lip as his fingers played with the hem of the shirt.
It was awkward.
Robert plated the eggs and toast, bringing it to the table. They ate in silence, both stealing quiet glances.
After a pause, he added, "Your uniform had stains… I put it in the wash."
"That's fine," Carl said. "I'll just have another one sent."
He picked up his phone and called, arranging for a new uniform to be delivered to the address.
Robert checked the time and stood up, grabbing his bag. "You can wait for your driver here."
Carl nodded. "Okay."
Robert made it halfway to the door before he hesitated.
He turned.
And without a word, he leaned in and kissed Carl.
It was slow—intentional. Not rushed like last night. This one held something else.
Carl kissed him back.
When Robert finally pulled away, his voice was soft.
"See you at school."
Then he turned and left.
Carl stood by the window, watching Robert disappear into his car, his lips still tingling from the kiss.
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Theo Salazar had lived in Willowridge all his life. The old town had its charm — neat lawns, silent streets, and rules that wrapped around everything like invisible chains. He didn't mind rules. What he did mind was Carl Hale.
Carl — rich, detached, always walking like the world owed him nothing, but had still handed him everything. He barely talked to anyone, just sat with his hoodie up and eyes half-lidded like he was better than the rest of them. Theo didn't get it. He hated how people whispered about Carl's mansion, his last name, his parents. He hated how Carl never tried and still drew attention — even Theo had caught himself watching him once or twice in class, annoyed by how effortlessly calm he always looked.
Theo had worked for everything. A scholarship. A part-time job at the bakery. Smiling at teachers. Keeping his grades perfect so he wouldn't lose his place at St. Augustine. He had no mansion, just a cracked apartment and bills his mother couldn't always pay. He didn't want to envy Carl—but he did. Not for the money. But for how easy he seemed to exist.
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Theo walked briskly through the quiet streets of Willowridge, his backpack slung over one shoulder, earbuds in, the early morning sun brushing gold across the rooftops. The school wasn't far — fifteen minutes on foot — but each step felt like a countdown. Another day of pretending.
As he neared the gates of St. Augustine, he caught sight of a sleek black car pulling up. The door opened, and out stepped Carl Hale. Of course.
Theo slowed, just slightly, watching as Carl adjusted his blazer and ran a hand through his messy brown curls, his face unreadable as always. He looked...annoyingly effortless, stepping out of luxury into a world he probably didn't even want to be in.
Theo's jaw clenched. What do you even have to worry about, Hale?
He didn't realize he'd been staring until he heard his name.
"Theo!"
He blinked, snapping his head around to see Marcy and Julian waving him over, their faces bright. Instantly, he plastered on a smile — the one he'd practiced a hundred times. Friendly. Approachable. Normal.
"Hey, guys," he said, voice light as he jogged to catch up.
They all walked into the school building together, chatting about the upcoming exam, while Theo sneaked one last glance over his shoulder. Carl was already ahead, alone as always, disappearing through the hallway like the world didn't matter.
Theo exhaled through his nose and turned back to his friends.
Just another day in Willowridge.