It was raining heavily outside, the kind of rain that hammered against the windows like it wanted to break in. James sat on the edge of his bed in his dark room, staring at nothing. He couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan — the way he had looked at him in that janitor closet, the way his breath had hitched, the way his body had trembled under James’s hands. The almost-kiss. The real kiss. The way Ethan had moaned into his mouth before pushing him away.
James sighed and stood up. He walked to the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. His eyes drifted to his jacket hanging on the chair. Without thinking, he grabbed it, shrugged it on, and snatched his car keys from the desk.
As he headed downstairs, his mother appeared in the hallway, arms crossed.
“Where do you think you’re goin
