Escaping Closets.

CHAPTER THREE

Maya leaned against the oak tree, sketchbook balanced on her knees as she captured the campus quad in charcoal strokes. Eli watched from a nearby bench, pretending to read his biology textbook but really stealing glances at her concentrated expression.

They'd met in Art History last semester. Now they studied together every Wednesday, shared inside jokes about their eccentric professor, and had somehow become each other's closest confidant at university. Eli had fallen for her laugh first, then her mind, then everything else.

"You're staring again," Maya said without looking up from her drawing.

"Just admiring your technique," Eli replied with a small smile.

Maya snorted. "Right. Come see for yourself then, art critic."

He moved to sit beside her, shoulders touching. The familiar scent of her lavender shampoo made his heart ache.

"It's beautiful," he said honestly. Her work always was.

"Thanks." She bumped his shoulder. "Hey, did I tell you Zoe asked me out? The girl from my Sociology class?"

Eli felt the familiar twist in his chest. "That's great," he managed. "She seemed nice when I met her at that party."

"I'm nervous. It's my first real date since coming out." Maya tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Any advice from my best gay friend?"

Eli laughed despite himself. "Just be yourself. She already likes you, obviously."

"You're the best." Maya closed her sketchbook and squeezed his hand. "What would I do without you?"

Later that night, Eli called his older brother.

"I don't know why I keep doing this to myself," he said, staring at his ceiling. "Falling for someone who can never love me back the way I want."

"Because love doesn't always make sense," his brother replied. "But friendship is its own kind of love, you know?"

The next Wednesday, Eli brought Maya's favorite coffee and listened as she excitedly told him about her date. He smiled genuinely, despite his own feelings, because her happiness mattered to him. Maybe someday his heart would catch up with what his mind already knew - that some loves weren't meant to be romantic, but were precious all the same.