EPISODE 12
746 Words
Nathan had spent months watching Tristan from afar, witnessing the changes that had taken root within him. The once carefree bad boy, always smirking, always teasing, had transformed into someone colder, more distant. Tristan no longer laughed as freely, no longer roamed the school hallways with that devil-may-care attitude. Instead, he buried himself in his studies and basketball, his expression unreadable, his presence untouchable.
Nathan saw it all. And it tore him apart.
He wanted to talk to him, to tell him everything—that he was sorry, that he missed him, that he regretted every word, every action that had pushed Tristan away. But every time he thought about approaching him, he froze. Tristan had changed, and Nathan had no idea where he stood with him anymore.
So, he waited. Their final exams were around the corner, and Nathan decided to give Tristan the space he needed. But once the exams were over, he would find a way to reach him—no matter what it took. Even if Tristan lashed out, even if he treated him like nothing more than a stranger, Nathan would endure it all if it meant earning his forgiveness.
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Drake had been holding back his feelings for Tristan for over a year. He had admired him from a distance, felt his heart race every time Tristan laughed, every time he flashed that cocky grin. But lately, things had been different. Tristan had become serious, more mature. And instead of fading, Drake's feelings had only grown stronger.
He couldn't keep them hidden anymore. He had to confess. Even if Tristan didn't feel the same way, he couldn't live with the regret of never telling him.
After practice, as they both stood catching their breath, Drake turned to Tristan. "Hey, you free tonight?"
Tristan wiped the sweat from his forehead, glancing at Drake. "Depends. What’s up?"
Drake swallowed his nerves. "Dinner. With me."
Tristan raised a brow but didn’t hesitate long before nodding. "Sure. Sounds good."
Drake exhaled in relief. "Great. I’ll pick the place. Let’s shower and head out."
They walked toward the locker room together. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and soap as they stood under separate showers, the warm water washing away the exhaustion from practice. Drake stole glances at Tristan, his toned muscles, his sharp features softened under the water’s spray. He felt his heart pound harder than it ever had during a game.
They finished up, dressed, and headed out after bidding Dylan goodbye. Drake had chosen a quiet but stylish restaurant. As they settled into their seats, Tristan looked around approvingly. "Nice pick. Didn’t know you had taste."
Drake smirked. "There’s a lot you don’t know about me."
Tristan chuckled. "Fair enough."
They ordered their meals and drinks, and as the conversation flowed, Drake felt his nerves ease. Tristan smiled—really smiled—for the first time in what felt like forever. And it made Drake's heart clench.
As they finished eating, Tristan reached for the bill. "I got this."
Drake shook his head. "Hey, I invited you. I should—"
"I insist," Tristan interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. "Let me do this."
Drake hesitated but relented. "Alright. Just this once."
Tristan smirked. "We’ll see."
They walked out of the restaurant, the cool night air wrapping around them. Drake felt a sudden surge of courage and slipped his hand into Tristan’s. Tristan didn’t pull away. If anything, his grip tightened slightly, and they walked like that to the car.
As they reached Drake’s house, he hesitated before getting out. Tristan followed.
"Thanks for inviting me out, Drake. I really had a great time," Tristan said sincerely.
Drake’s heart swelled. "You're welcome. And… thanks for coming."
Tristan nodded. "We should do this again sometime."
Drake smiled, trying to ignore how fast his heart was beating. "Yeah, we should."
"Goodnight, Drake."
"Goodnight, Tristan."
And before he could overthink it, Drake leaned in and placed a quick peck on Tristan’s cheek. The second his lips made contact with Tristan’s skin, panic set in, and he turned on his heel, practically sprinting toward his front door.
Tristan stood frozen in place, his fingers instinctively brushing over the spot where Drake had kissed him. Slowly, a small, amused smile formed on his lips.
He shook his head, chuckling softly to himself before heading back to his car and driving off, his mind swirling with thoughts he wasn’t ready to confront just yet.
- Writer
