Secretly In Love With My Highschool Bully

Intervention.

The holiday kicks off, and I spend most of my time catching up on all the novels I’d been putting aside, the series I’m woefully behind on, and, of course, all the events I missed during the semester.

If you don’t already know this about me, I’m an avid C-drama fan, a certified BL lover, and, unfortunately, a complete face con.

About a week into the holiday, Mom and Aunt Elise begin making subtle moves that they seem to think aren’t painfully obvious.

First, Mom sends me over to Ryan’s house with a pie she claims she “accidentally made too much of,” and I just go along with it.

Then Aunt Elise sends Ryan over to our place carrying a basket of fruits she supposedly bought “too many” of.

When they realize these covert operations aren’t working, they organize a small family gathering.

I try declining the invitation, but Mom quite literally drags me there while completely ignoring my protests.

When we arrive, we find Aunt Elise in the kitchen while Uncle James helps her peel potatoes.

“Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Montague,” I greet politely.

“Good afternoon, Gavin dear, but when did we go back to such formal greetings?” Aunt Elise asks, turning toward me with amusement.

I smile sheepishly and place the dish I’m carrying onto the counter.

“I’m gonna head to the backyard now,” I mumble before immediately making a run for it.

I hear their laughter behind me, and despite myself, I smile a little too.

As I round a corner, I slam directly into what feels like a wall of muscle. I nearly topple over before a hand quickly steadies me.

I look up and immediately freeze.

Ryan.

And unfortunately for my sanity, Ryan has seriously filled out.

He now has muscles no sixteen-year-old should reasonably possess, and when you add those to his white-blond hair, striking blue eyes, and cleft chin, the result is basically a walking magazine cover.

“Hm. If you’re done ogling me, can I pass?” he asks with the faintest smirk.

Heat instantly rushes to my face.

“Who was ogling?” I snap back, trying very hard to ignore the blush steadily spreading across my cheeks.

I glance around and realize we’re standing near his room.

“Where are you going anyway?” I ask.

“If I remember correctly, this is my house, and I can go wherever I want,” he replies dryly. “Anyway, I’m getting water.”

With that, he heads toward the kitchen.

I immediately slip into his room and realize not much has changed.

My chair is still sitting exactly where it used to be the last time I was here.

Somehow, that small detail makes my chest ache.

Because despite how much he avoids me at school, it doesn’t seem like he hates me enough to erase me completely from his life.

I settle into the chair and start reading a book on my iPad, quickly getting absorbed in it.

The sudden chill of something cold against my cheek startles me out of my concentration.

I look up to find Ryan pulling back a cold bottle he’d apparently pressed against my face.

“What?” I snap.

“Why are you such a nerd?” he shoots back immediately.

“None of your business,” I mutter, glaring at him.

For a moment, he simply watches me quietly before walking over and lying down on his bed.

“Ryan… what’s wrong with you?” I finally ask once the silence becomes unbearable.

He stiffens slightly before slowly turning to look at me.

“What do you mean?” he asks cautiously.

“What happened this last semester?” I clarify softly.

“Nothing,” he says with a shrug, as though it’s insignificant.

“Talk to me, Ry. I’m your friend,” I plead.

“I said nothing. Can you just drop it already?” he suddenly yells.

I flinch instinctively.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s raised voices. They terrify me, and Ryan knows that better than anyone.

Remorse flashes across his face almost immediately. He shifts like he wants to walk over to me, but then he seems to think better of it.

Without another word, he stalks out of the room.

I remain sitting there, my eyes burning hot.

For a few brief moments, it had almost felt like things were back to how they used to be before high school.

And yet I still can’t figure out what changed us so badly.

From his reaction, there’s clearly something going on, but the fact that he refuses to talk to me about it makes me feel like maybe I’m simply not enough for him anymore.

Or worse—

Maybe whatever he’s going through is somehow my fault.

The gathering eventually ends later that evening, and as we walk back home, I keep replaying Ryan’s reaction to my questions over and over in my head until the hurt settles heavy in my chest all over again.